A Breather

samedi, le 10 octobre 2009

It was pure bliss to wake up this morning to the sound of birds happily chatting away in the trees. For most of this week the shrill screeching of electronic devises has woken me to tell me it is time to get out of my feathered nest and get my nose to the grind stone.

This morning I could stretch out, turn around, cuddle behind The Princess’ back and wonder what the birds were discussing. The Princess gave a big, lazy yawn and thought they were probably discussing where the juiciest worms were to be found. I reckoned they were discussing flight paths of the day.

I had a long, pampering bath and was sipping some soothing tea when My Bountiful Friend called. I hadn’t seen her in about three weeks either. This whole work thing really has this strange ability to get in the way of life!

The Fairy was having playmates over and My Bountiful Friend was dying for some adult conversation. I was simply dying for conversation. We chatted like great friends do who haven’t seen each other in a while. We were both talking at the same time. At any given point we each had at least four stories going. I don’t think we successfully managed to finish one of them. We did get around to discussing matters of life, of death, of the heart.

My Bountiful Friend made us the most wonderful Oeuf Cocotte for lunch. With a tummy tingling with delight and heart full of soul food, I headed back late afternoon for The Princess’ walk.

This evening I have been keeping one eye on the Internet and one eye on the TV. I’m tracking The Athlete’s performance in the Ironman World Championships. I have huge admiration for her single-minded determination and discipline. Not only does she have a very demanding corporate job, but she still finds the time participate in very demanding endurance sporting events and often wins her category. Truly inspirational stuff! Her swimming time has been on par with two years ago, but she’s burning up the track with her bicycle!! Way to go, my super human friend!!

Watching The Presidents Cup without L’homme is not quite the same. But it’s just one of many ‘without L’homme’ things that I’m getting used to. Watching it on my own is at least better than not watching it at all!

To all NaBloWriMo participants: One third of the way done! Two thirds to go!

(The story in the photograph: The Story Teller is delighted that it’s weekend. That means she gets to curl up on her favourite bed and explain to humans how work should be approached!)