Bank Holiday drizzle

There are those days when rain wraps you in a shawl of languor. Time stops. The only movement the dipping, dripping leaves.
The silence is heavy with clock ticks and rain drops.
King Solomon is licking his fur and the bell round his neck is tinkling ever so slightly.
Emmy is asleep in the piano room, curled up on a big kitchen chair.
Jim is in the studio preparing to leave tomorrow. Leeds is calling.
The girls arrived for Jim’s birthday. I made the most delicious cauliflower cheese with Emmental, to go with salmon, new potatoes and little green peas. There was home made blackberry and apple pie. My teeth and tongue are still stained with the black berry juice.
The noise of five females is still hanging in the air. Big noise, big mess, big gap.
I’m on BBC Sussex tomorrow. I’ll be home just in time to wave the old git off.
Then I will be enveloped in silence again.