The builders next door have gone home. The dog across the street is asleep. The neighbour has turned his radio off and gone inside. The quiet is so nice that I don’t want to go to bed. I just want to sit in the dark and listen to the peace.
It somehow feels luxurious to open a bottle of bubbles by yourself on a Friday night. No-one else home, nothing to celebrate, but the bubbles in the glass give the evening an air of lightness and seem a portent of a good weekend to come.
A coffee subscription is a marvellous thing. I don’t have to think about whether I need beans because I get a delivery every couple of months from Mikro in Torquay. It brings me much joy to arrive home to find the blue box of goodness tucked behind the bass sculpture next to my
There is merit in starting, even if one does not finish immediately. The grass is daunting this month, growing like someone’s been sprinkling cocaine on it. I have made a start! Half cut grass is a start. The rest is not so terrifying now.
The wind has dropped and the world seems calmer after wild stormy weather today. My house is beautifully quiet as there’s no-one else home. I’ve been noodling about doing a bit of cooking and cleaning in between practising. It’s quite heavenly.
Image: Gustave Leonard de Jonghe “Woman at the Piano with Cockatoo” 1870
There’s been a chill in my bones all day, so when I got home this evening I put my socks on the heater to warm up. How glorious the feeling of thrusting my icy feet into toasty warm socks, and then into fluffy slippers!
I got all energetic and lifted the lid of my piano to record today. It gets a much better sound than using my phone sitting on the top! I’ve joined a songwriting club and have to write and record a song every week. This is not an easy ask, but it is very
While walking to the shed this afternoon my attention was caught by a familiar yet unidentified scent. I looked around and realised my Green Wattle has bloomed. It is a mass of fluffy, yellow balls with a distinctive perfume that reminds of growing up in the bush in Smythesdale.
Ah, quel plaisir, what a joy to get up this morning to a clean kitchen. Dry dishes were put away and there ensued a delightful moment of emptiness, as though my kitchen were having a spiritual moment of zen nothingness.
I am the first to admit domestic chores are not my strength. Thus, it is lovely when I do the dishes and clean the kitchen after dinner. I’m already looking forward to getting up in the morning to the novelty of a clean and tidy kitchen.
