Radios, Waves and Whipped Cream
Wed 25th, Oct, 2017
Mid-morning here in Sydney and I’m sitting quietly with a lovely coffee (topped with a mahusive pile of whipped cream and brown sugar, yes my muffin top is definitely in the building), the French doors are open, the curtains are blowing in the breeze, Barls is collapsed on the carpet (grey wool twist just in case you’re interested), he’s recovering halfway down the hallway after a good half hour of ball chasing, somewhere in the distance the sound of the waves are crashing and a nearby neighbour’s radio is softly playing away…
I’m meant to be having a re-charging day-off day and while I’m hardly running around up to my eyes in stuff, I have an urge to start moving things around (furniture), rip every cover off every sofa and bed and wash the life out of everything and generally start organising things to within an inch of their life (still not attempted the Wardrobe of Floral Dresses I Do Not Wear Doom)…it must be a Spring thing.
I can tell you, as one who has far too much experience of foofing around the house, I am going to rein myself in and NOT start dragging things around the house and partaking in humongous loads of laundry (Australian sunshine drying day or not)….I am no longer either that young or that stupid…it will not end well and the other residents who now have uni and jobs and high school will get home from their respective long tiring days to a headless chicken of a woman roaming around, knackered, up to her eyes in cushion covers wondering why on earth she started it all.
I will instead be the calm, sorted, provider of a nice clean abode to arrive home to…glowy lamps on, candles lit, a big pot of something bubbling on the hob and the lovely bouquet of flowers bought for me yesterday arranged just so…
I will also be in ironed pyjamas.
In my dreams.
See you, one and all.