Leaf watching
Walked up to Downs school this morning to deliver my invoice, then into town to pick up a prescription and go to Sainsburys, little chores but happy to be strolling in the sun for an hour or so. Then home to work on another concept for the French folks, and a little bit of copy brushing on some stuff for Beth. Also sent some more poems out, as lots are pinging back from competitions at the moment as non-winners. Richard though, had some poems placed in the Guernsey poetry competition, which I did not enter, placed fifth and sixth in the Open category, and second in the Channel Islands category. A wonderful bag of placings.
Also sat in the garden for a bit. I have a garden and I can sit in it. For the first time in my life I fully understand why people can become obsessed with their gardens. Birds were singing and there was the sound of children in a school playground on the hill across the little valley. I looked at all the seedlings we have in our cold frame, and at our three shrubs, which seem to be growing before my eyes, and watered a few pots. The cats love it when I am out there too, springing about the place. I find myself looking at leaves.
My Eurostar tickets have arrived for next week. What could be more restful than hurtling towards a pitch in foreign city under kilotonnes of rock and sea?
Lorraine working late, and Beth not at home till this evening, I had a quiet evening feeling somewhat sore-throated. I cooked a pork and chorizo stew and watched an old interview with Jeanette Winterson on iPlayer. I admire her as a writer and a person great deal. I think of her book Why be happy when you could be normal? a lot. Beth home with a cold, Lorraine home very tired. I gave Lorraine stew. And so to bed.
Also sat in the garden for a bit. I have a garden and I can sit in it. For the first time in my life I fully understand why people can become obsessed with their gardens. Birds were singing and there was the sound of children in a school playground on the hill across the little valley. I looked at all the seedlings we have in our cold frame, and at our three shrubs, which seem to be growing before my eyes, and watered a few pots. The cats love it when I am out there too, springing about the place. I find myself looking at leaves.
My Eurostar tickets have arrived for next week. What could be more restful than hurtling towards a pitch in foreign city under kilotonnes of rock and sea?
Lorraine working late, and Beth not at home till this evening, I had a quiet evening feeling somewhat sore-throated. I cooked a pork and chorizo stew and watched an old interview with Jeanette Winterson on iPlayer. I admire her as a writer and a person great deal. I think of her book Why be happy when you could be normal? a lot. Beth home with a cold, Lorraine home very tired. I gave Lorraine stew. And so to bed.
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