Calmly my breathing continues,
Silent in fact as I watch the horizon.
You are close to me, you are seeing through my eyes,
Even though you are not here in person.
Let’s have a coffee here together,
Before we hurry off to the next destination.
The colours and simplicity of the view,
Each sip, I feel with you each sigh of appreciation.
If you were here, your hand would find mine,
Our fingers meeting between us,
As small fish cause splashes below,
And the sand is disturbed as they fuss.
I know you would enjoy just sitting,
And escaping the every day.
It is important to relax and think sometimes,
To regroup with your goals so they say.
Sunshine moments and diasies,
Words and worlds of fantasy.
Followed by a stint at the laptop,
And 808 words I’ve written make me happy 🌸
‘All packed?’ I say to my son who is checking his snaps whilst spinning aimlessly on the eBay-purchased office chair at the bottom of stairs in the hall. He broke the previous one – by spinning, his 6’4″ frame causing too much centrifugal force and the chair took its final breath and deposited him at the bottom of said stairs.
‘Come play a board game and give your eyes a break. I found that train one we used to like when you were small.’
His empathetic nature is beautifully illustrated with his peaceful arrival on the beanbag while I set it up.
Purchased one Christmas with my father in mind, as a suitable post-turkey-meal occupation, it became a way to learn the names of some English towns and the route trains took (and still do) en route to Glasgow.
As we played (and he ultimately hissed into the station a little ahead) we used my google maps to follow the route, using the satellite option to actually see the meandering path those engineers once chose, the rivulets they crossed and the roads they followed.
‘Check out this old station… you can see where the carpark may have been! That’s so cool…’ his fingers expertly zoomed in and out upon the birds-eye views. I smiled. Shared time. A little history and lighting the fires of intrigue.
New meets old (engineering).
Old meets young (mind).
How lovely that half hour was…… ☺️
PS.. I wonder if this was the train journey taken by JK Rowling when ‘they say’ she was jotting ideas down for a novel… about a wizard boy…
Shall we? Blueberries… be rude not to wouldn’t it.
Drop them in the batter or sprinkle in the mix as starts cooking…
Love the sizzle don’t you?
I made 11.
I ate 4 (my son managed the rest).
Now we are off for a walk for extended family member birthday. Man of the Woods sadly cannot join us as weather is dry and hence crops need drilling, or the ‘drill by‘ date will have passed, making it too late for the corn to grow properly during the spring.
Farming is not something you can simply ‘put off til another day’.
I couldn’t be bothered with wellies but it did rain last night, so I’m preparing myself for soggy feet, about which I shalt not sweat. I’m thinking it through an damage limitation exercise in place to keep mental state intact 🌸
Enjoy your day off work if you are fortunate to be so. 🐣
Have you missed me? I’ve been cleaning the grout between the bathroom tiles. I knew I’d find a use for that buzzy toothbrush; the one I could never decide whether to hold flat against the surface of each tooth as it vibrated, or whether to move it back and forth, negating the need for the spin. However, place a little bleach on the head and work the buzzy brush into the grout and you’ve got yourself a seriously effective tool. I think it could become a thing!
Some unwritten rule floats around my head the day before any weekend, that the house needs to be prepared for returning family members. This rule I usually stamp on quite happily, but this morning my energy levels were such that I reacted to it. I proceeded to even use the hoover that had been waiting patiently in the living room where I placed it last week after a vague plan wafted briefly around my mind.
When did you last investigate between the cushions on the sofa to enable the sucky hoover tube to be fed? (Go look now if you’re home, I dare you! Everyone will wonder what the hell you’re up to!). By lunch time, the whole ground floor had been hoovered (or vacuumed if you prefer the correct term), the kitchen was spotless, dishwasher had somehow completed two loads and now sits empty with the inner door’s stainless steel sparkling. Even the kitchen window got the water+vinegar followed by newspaper drying treatment and the results are really quite stunning. I should try this more often.
It was as I gathered the week’s worth of Daily Telegraphs scattered across one half of the kitchen table, that I came across a supplement from last weekend which grabbed my attention. No way! WTF? Are you having a laugh? I think I already shared with you my decision for Lucy’s vineyard to need to exist nearer to Milan than my previous pictured area of Tuscany. A few days back I researched maps around the Lombardy region and learnt about town names and the river Po flowing east into the Adriatic. So imagine my pleasant surprise to find this article … housework could wait a few minutes I decided, and I popped a purple L’OR capsule in the Nespresso machine!
Actually I had to wash the windows by the way, because last evening while relaxing in front of a surprisingly worth-a-watch film which the kids picked up last summer, then left in the cellophane, we snapped our heads towards the kitchen in response to what must be a bomb. In actual fact, a hen pheasant had misjudged the windows at either end of the kitchen to be a superb tunnel through which to fly (and this was before I’d cleaned them remember). BABY DRIVER (2017, John Hamm, Jamie Foxx, Ansel Elgort and Lily James). Slight mess. We’ll put her breasts in the pot later, god rest her soul.
I can’t stop reading Joseph’s suggested book. I’m nearly to page 100. I think I’m turning Japanese, I really think so. I mean, has Matsu done the same self-esteem course for goodness-saké? He appears to know all about everything. He (Matsu, the life-long housekeeper of Stephen-san‘s family’s summer house, for those who don’t know Gail Tsukiyama’s THE SAMURAI’S GARDEN) has taken Stephen to a shrine up in the woods on the side of the mountain, at which they should relax and leave any frantic thoughts of their day behind. Stephen is full of angst having recently found out his father has been having an affair for the last twelve years. Twenty year old Stephen is confused about how he feels now he is in possession of this news; confused, betrayed, hurt, alone yet protective of his mother.
They start a conversation and Stephen become angry and shouts at Matsu …
“It is the anger speaking, not the man.” Oh my word. I think I’m falling for Matsu and all he stands for.
As I read, I learn how sentence structure works for Gail. I see how her choice of vocabulary builds not only a picture, but the straightforward tone of her ‘voice’ lulls me daily, soothing and calmly educating me. I am totally seduced by this novel and will most definitely buy another of her six published titles.
Now go away, I’ve a tidy room to go sit in and admire! Jokes, I don’t want to go really – lets hang out some more over the weekend, yes? x
PS. Where can I get a bonsai tree?
Relax. Just for once.
I hereby give you permission to read to the end of this post (🤣) then put your phone down, on silent, leave the iPad in a different room, poor yourself a drink or pop kettle on for a cuppa and find an old cowboy film on the telly or play some music, sit back and relax. You deserve it. Stop worrying about everyone else for a minute, will you?
I decided to do this earlier and read my book for two hours in PJs in the sofa. How decadent! I felt guilty. Why? ‘Learned behaviour’ … or … ‘habit’ .
One I seriously intend to break 💪🏼💫
Card design; CathTateCards