Yesterday was a looooong day. It started early at 9am. Yes, I know that’s not technically early, but my evening meds usually make me snore the morning away, and pretty much nothing short of a full brass band will wake me. Waking up at any sort of reasonable time requires great efforts of willpower and a lot of poking from Mr W. Not that sort of poking, dirty sods. Suffice to say, waking at 9am is not an easy task, so for me, that’s bloody early!
The reason for my 9am start was a visit to the lovely ladies at the Shine clinic, who are attempting to fathom my typically non-conforming symptoms and set me back on the right track. My hospital visit culminated in a chest x-ray, sporting the fetching get up on the left. So attractive! From there we went to munch a scrummy near 2 year old whose energy (despite not having a nap!) was exhausting!
And yesterday evening H & I went to the theatre to watch Sister Act. A fabulous girly evening, thoroughly enjoyable. It did, however make an early start into a rather late finish. So in between the morning’s activities and the evening’s outing, I knew I had to make time to rest. And this time is the real subject of today’s post.
We recently had a decking area fitted at the bottom of our garden. It’s very us, a hotchpotch of ideas & materials, nowhere near finished, and is evolving on an almost daily basis, but it is now usable. Over the weekend we christened it with some of our fabulous friends, and yesterday I chose to take advantage of the weather & curl up on it to rest. Let me try & paint you a picture;
From my nest under a fluffy blanket I can take in the whole of our (rather small) garden, and see into the lounge of our house. It’s unusually tidy, due to hosting friends the previous day, and four of our five cats (yes, five; crazy cat lady, keep up) are playing or lounging nearby. Birds are twittering from their perches in the trees, along with the faint sounds of a neighbours music, and there’s a waft of citronella from the candle keeping the midges away.
There’s a slightly chill breeze, but the sun has peered out from behind fluffy white clouds. Next to me, an nearly empty mug bears witness to a cuppa, drunk, for once, at exactly at the right temperature, with the slightly sludgy dregs telling tales of a naughty dunked biscuit.
Mr W is in the lounge happily tinkering with a clock. A bumble bee has found the spoon of sugar water I put out earlier when I saw him struggling. A butterfly seems to tease the cats as their watchful gaze sees it stay just high enough to evade capture.
There were dozens of things I should probably have been doing with that time, but not one of them was as important as the peace I was experiencing. In those moments, the calm I felt was like a waterfall, and as I allowed it to wash over me I knew that this was a fixed point in time, a moment I would never forget. I basked in the knowledge, knowing the opportunity to feel it was a rare & precious gift, to be savoured an appreciated as such. Until, of course, I needed a piss. Double doses of water tablets will do that for ya.