afternoon

I love my life. I can go trip down our marble staircase in my blue rag socks, cords, and a tshirt, hair flying with or without hairpins, and make it into the kitchen turning on the toe of my bluest, fuzziest, stripiest slippers. Returning the milk to the refridgerator and kicking the door shut are automatic now . . . pouring myself some espresso on top of the milk, blankly staring at the window for a second, then humming my way back upstairs to read.

My shutters are open, but the windows themselves are closed, so I can see the overcast sky and the odd light playing on my balcony, but it is still shut out of my cozy room. I love overcast mornings. Even when I have to drive through a drizzly sort of fog to get anywhere. The pavement seems wet and dark and earthlike, and the sky seems to be an entity of itself. Trees are blurred with the wind and speed of my traveling eyes, but their thousands of shades of greens don’t go unnoticed.

Time to turn on the Dave Brubeck Quartet, time to put a sweatshirt on because the afternoon is getting a little cold and I’ve done my messy chores for today. And I’m going to take that walk later this evening. Gotta walk for a minute, breathe some different air.

So, that’s where I am today:)

p.s. on a more sulky note, I miss my friends that I have pocketed in different parts of the world. this is very selfish of me because I know they’re having perfectly splendid times doing what they love, but I miss them all the same. “I am youth, hear me whine!”

evening

pruny fingered once more, whistling to Dave Brubeck . . . got a good bit of "A Tale of Two Cities" read, thankfully, and realised how much I liked Charles Dickens. I forgot how much I love to read his stuff:) So windy and rambly and out there somewhere . . . utterly a romantic . . . got a lot of work done today too, which was nice.

Most all of the woodpile is in boxes in the garage now, and some of it is burning merrily . . . kitchen is clean . . . my room is swept . . . my organiser is begun . . . and I'm sure all of that is just fascinating to all of you, seeing my count on my fingers the mundane doings of my physical life . . . go back and reread the bit about Dickens.

So, yes, now I need a cup of tea. Yes, I think tea is in order. SOMEBODY MAKE ME SOME TEA!!!!!

My room will soon be a haven for studying. My armchair will be cleared of the things that come out of my pocketses when I get home, the trunk at the end of my bed will be stacked with books, my computer desk will stay clean, and my little table will be scattered with undusty bits of paper and ink and random pens. My book stands will be full of books that I'm actually reading and not just gazing at fondly as I pass them. My bed will be made up so that I can lean against the pillows at the top end and catch the light that comes through the window in the afternoons. *hums about studying*

When the weather gets a little warmer I can drag a quilt out onto my balcony and sit and read on my little bench with a cup of tea or a cafe' latte or something . . . maybe I can finagle to get a sister or other unsuspecting family member to come by every now and then . . .

go to sleep. that was a long entry.

*yawns*