I'm sitting in the ktichen, on the table newspapers surround me like train sleepers, buffering and comforting me against another long day of cleaning and rearranging in the old homestead.
But for now, I'm wallowing in the moment that is the tick of the new kitchen clock and the whine of the still busy washing machine, working more relentlessly than I at this time.
Larry has gone a Sunday visiting his Mum; our son is sleeping over again, at his mate's home, (does every teenager think the grass is greener), Pippa is sleeping soundlessy upon my right foot; darling daughter is sleeping, probably shoring up energy for some petulant sneering when I attempt to waken her in an hour or so. I'll leave it to the last moment, no masochist I!
It is 9 am, no I must correct this, it is 10am british summer- guffaw- time! I have eaten two pieces of toast, butter and raspberry jam with a cup of tea, I am contemplating having the same again, but my good side is arguing with my bad side. The ST Culture has been devoured as has the Magazine, I will leave the hard stuff until tonight or maybe Wednesday - just before I chuck them out for recycling, then flick through for those crucial speakeasy columns that shout out to me, read me, read me or my short print life has been in vain.
If the conservatory 0r in FFF speak, the sun lounge (circa 1971 speak obviously) was organised I could be sitting in the warm dappled sunlight, in my imagined wing chair and with a good book, the likes of which hasn't been firmly in hand for the last 4 weeks. A joy which will no doubt return, when I have exhausted the 357 to do lists rattling around in my mind and handbag, kitchen surfaces and bedside table. Oh! to declutter this mind.
I could remonstrate with the idea of losing an hour overnight and so less time to do things ... remember the few years back in 70's land when the powers that be trialed no time changes and we arrived at school in darkness, loved it! But I am feeling that in sitting apart from the usual fervent and furtive rants , trouble shooting and organised chaos, I am ready to draw a line and say Enfin, enough!
I am breathing in this quiet time, this adonis of bare, naked moments, pushing away all thoughts of industrious endeavours and effortlessly taking the pleasurable time to breathe deep of the lazy Sunday morning and check in and say Bonjour, Good day and hello, to share with my friends and mentors, copains and heroes.
My glass is half full and I am enjoying the moment.