The cottage is very quiet.
The only sound is the clock ticking behind me.
The smell of beeswax furniture polish lingers in the air, I polished the piano. Mr.Crouch, our piano tuner, came with his box of tricks , put on his apron, slurped one mouthful of milky tea and set about making my boudoir grand even grander.
The cat is caught between two cushions, comfortably slumped on the armchair.
The door is locked and the rain is still drip, drip, dripping.
I didn’t get to bed until 5.00 this morning. Try as I might I could not sleep. I tried lying on my left side, lying on my front, lying on my right side. Putting my arms over my head, under the pillow and on top of the duvet. I tried meditating, counting sheep and lying on my back whilst banging my toes together three hundred times. ( an old yogic practice I’m told). In the end a bowl of porridge with cinnamon and agave syrup sent me off.
I was wakened three hours later – phone call from brother.
An hour later – a phone call from the oosbind.
And hour late a call from the dawter.
I decided to stay in my bed until the rain stopped…….
I’m still processing the girls gig. The people that came, the people that didn’t come. The ones that bothered the ones that couldn’t. How comfortable she was in front of an audience, how lovely Robin her guitarist is, what a good night they gave us, the first of many.
In my sleepless hours I’d printed off nine pages of prayers for Darfur. Staggering how all the disciplines said the same thing. Peace, peace and more peace. I read them aloud and made myself cry.
So today I got up at 1.00.
Had a long bath, read Joanne Harris, then made supper whilst listening to Danny Baker.
Butternut squash soup, with turmeric and cayenne, a little coconut milk and a lot of garlic.
A big green salad with avocado and juicy tomatoes.
And my very own version of tarka dal.
Two different kinds of yellow lentils, garlic, tomato puree and whatever magic I can find in the spice cupboard, somehow it tastes like nothing else I know.
I had tea with an exceptional woman who never lets the grass grow under our feet,
And supper with an other exceptional woman who tells me stories that keep me moving.
23.59 and the washing up is done, all calls have been made and the only sound is the clock ticking.
The hands have just moved to midnight.
00.00 no time at all. 00.00 and for one minute there really is no time like the present.
THIS weekend is the ‘Supermoon’ – as close as it gets to the earth. As full and powerful on the tide of emotion as the oceans. Forewarned is forearmed! And perfect astrological timing for the Wesak.
Jeni, your insomnia makes me think of plate spinning. What will happen if you let them drop? Sometimes we try so hard that it’s only when we give up, we succeed. I know i know – easier said than done..
I caught a brief view of the last posting from ‘mumsy’ the other week. A mild case of sour grapes. Some blog and twitter accounts are blasted with some truly diabolical diatribe. There is a lot of suppressed anger bubbling away under the surface out there, just looking for a target.
I saw a lovely posting from Rhianon the other day, and it seems to have disappeared into the ether! Your late piano teacher sounds wonderful. Beautiful music, like an exceptional teacher has the power to touch the soul. That has to be true power.
On another sweet note, your chocolate brownies Rhianon went down a sensation. Wickedly unhealthy but PDG.
Pretty Damn Good!
Love Light LV
ps, Jeni your preview posting clock is an hour behind – no time like the present!
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Dear Jeni i hope you are well, My PC does not seem to allow me to contact your blog now??? Im doing a test OK, More Later Love from Terry in Putney Heath, Cheers to all the usual crowd! love Terry.
Dear Jeni. i seem to be able to get thru to you again, Thank God! You must have wondered where i was HaHa! Well I did have a week away at Easter in wet and windy Torquay then a week later i took my German friends from Berlin down to Torquay for a weeks holiday so i was down in Torquay 2 times in April Ha Ha! The weather was attrocious both times, but Udo the German Prison Guard and his lovely wife Barbara seemed to enjoy it. I hope your Family is OK esspecially your Mum down in Brighton, Will contact you again soon God Bless You Jeni! and LV and Marmite etc, Love from Terry