As I have told you before, many times, the reason why I post so much of my past is that my present is without incident. Been there, done that, and now wear the tee shirts - fine as silk with use and washing - as shorty nighties.And to prove it to be true I shall recount this one day, today.
I woke at eight, a good night, turned my radio off at midnight and did not linger too long in that awful 'I'll never fall asleep' limbo. I stretch, testing limbs, ligaments and cartilages. Think about getting up, but JP. is at the door, Milou high in his arms looking down on me. I say 'Good morning', stroke the dog and the man and they leave.
I'm up when they return from their walk although I have taken an age to decide what to wear from my stock of black leggings, black tops and well worn boring sweaters. My dilemma is over the quantity of each I might need today. Yesterday was a three layer day but, we are told by the all-knowing weather girls, that today will be wet and windy with an easterly wind making it seem colder. [sorry...but if it is 6degrees then surely it should feel 6 degrees] I make it four layers-it is always cold in the kitchen first thing, more so if JP has decided that it isn't cold and has not switched on the electric fire to heat the room. He is later than usual as he met Stavros [ our dentist and friend] and discussed football results for fifteen minutes.
I did tell you...
He has the papers, the kettle is on and places laid [what a star] so I feed Milou, make the tea or coffee and make my toast. We eat and read. I comment a lot, read out stuff, and he does a lot of uhmming and grunting in lieu of responses. I do the code word puzzle...then we swap papers, taking less time with them as they virtually give the same information.
This morning we washed the large windows in the living room-he banging on the outside to point at the places I had missed and I doing the same back to him.
One piece of mail: Damart sent me a key to a brand new Puegeot: It is mine if I buy at least £20 worth of merchandise from their new catalogue and my name is pulled out of the box. Yeah,right!
Then I go upstairs to be greeted by LM's [youngest daughter] cat . And she too has a routine that she hates to vary. She leads me here to the study where I switch on Paco [computer] then leads me elegantly - there is no other word to describe the gait of any cat, especially one like Mollikins who has an inflated opinion of her own importance - into my bedroom where she jumps on the chair in front of my dressing table and waits for me to make my bed. I then brush her.
I spend a little while logging on, reading any comments and just looking around.
Downstairs again, plump cushions, vac. if needed and dust, always there is dust which doesn't show when the sun don't shine.
See what I mean?
After lunch I took Milou for a walk, short or long depending on weather and state of joints. Then I watched Doctors and finished my latest book Last Train from Liguria by Cristine Dwyer Hickey, I cannot rate it too highly...beautiful writing and heartbreaking story.
About five o/clock I start to think about preparing supper, though the menu has been fixed since breakfast-a daily 'must have' discussion broached by JP for whom meals are the most important part of the day-it will be seafood risotto-green salad and the ubiquitous cheeses.
TV comes next...and, since having Sky plus, and the ability to record so much I'm in heaven with The Good Wife, Grey's Anatomy, Bones, NCIS, et al.
By ten thirty we are abed. JP. with a book and me to listen to the radio, stations 2,4,7 or Classic FM.
During this one day the phone has rung three times; all of the calls were 'scatter sales'.
It has been too cold and wet to garden or to dry clothes.
Things will change with the weather, when we can eat outdoors and I can fulfill my ideas for planting, take longer walks with Milou or even do some watercolours. But, till then, this is our lives, kiddos.
Now you know why I draw on the days when things happened, when we were young and adventurous [or stupidly careless].
Hope I haven't bored you too much.
How do you think I feel?