1. The world is white when we go to sleep but grey with mist when we wake up. Even on the dullest day though – when the tree line and the ends of the fields are all but invisible – the walk to the post office never fails to cheer me up.
2. I rest my head on Carla’s head, my eye socket accommodating the curve of her skull. Her fur is so soft against my cheek as we breathe together.
3. The moment we realise we’re wearing the same cardigan.
1. A few people have suggested we have a second bathroom installed on our lower ground floor – near the area which will be our office – but if we did, we’d have no reason to race up the stairs, pushing past each other, pulling back on jeans’ waistbands, when we both realise we need to wee at the same time.
2. I work hard all day – nothing from my to-do list and hardly any billable hours – but I tick off a range of things that have been nagging at me for weeks, perhaps months. For the first time in a while, I feel like I’m making progress on my life rather than just treading water.
3. The walk to the post office is delightful – until the very end, it feels like a walk through a country village and it’s just far enough to warm me up without being an over-exertion or taking all day.
4. We eat enchiladas for dinner, the second helping of a batch from earlier in the week. “Is there anything better than baked cheese?” I ask John as I chew on a perfectly browned piece. He replies: “Twice as much baked cheese.”
5. I have a fantastic evening’s play on World of Warcraft – I complete some quests that had been bugging me (because they’d been too hard before) and successfully sell some items at auction so I won’t have to worry about game-money for a while. The interface overlays my dreams though, so possibly played it a little too much…
1. I lean on my fists in thought. The skin on my metacarpus is dry and smells faintly of chlorine. It reminds me of a year ago, when I swam three times a week – the shocking cold of the nearly empty pool, pushing myself to go forever faster, floating in my own world as the reward for my hard work, then the light, energised feeling of the walk home. I *must* start going again.
2. When life gives you lemons… I can’t face a journey along the icy slush to buy nice bread for lunch so just get a loaf of cheap sliced white from the nearby convenience shop instead. It’s too bland to eat on its own but perfect for toasties. Cheese, beans and tabasco – sizzling pockets of joy.
3. In the colourless, muffled world of snow, my other senses are enhanced to compensate. Standing at the bus stop opposite Kebabish is hell. I’m nearly drooling by the time the 670 arrives.
4. Returning from dinner with Katherine, I find there are pretty ice patterns on the inside of the porch windows. The first time I’ve ever seen that happen.
5. Boron cuddles close for warmth. With the duvet around him, he’s like the Cheshire Cat – just a head – but just two giant eyes instead of a smile. In the low light, they’re two black orbs surrounded by the thinnest lemon ring, with white flickering into momentary view as he looks around.
1) It’s late (past noon) even though I’ve been up for hours but I have a wonderful breakfast. The cold milk, the crunchy cereal, the perfectly brewed tea.
2) The people at the Post Office – Judith & Chris – are lovely. The actual village around here has long since dissipated but the spirit of it still lives on in a small way with them.
3) Bad films are made good by funny friends.
© 2024 Louisa Parry