Blissful thinking

The towels have been in a 60 degree cycle and are now blowing about on the washing line.
Magnolia petals are strewn over the lawn, and the newly laid grass seed has been eaten by the little birds pecking away at it.
A box of vegan cheeses have arrived, a packet of wire wool and four boxes of oaty milk are on their way. I await my Everfresh sprouted loaves to be delivered. Internet shopping is easy although my heart goes out to the delivery folk who stand a paths length away and place the boxes on the ground.
Then to wash or not to wash the hands after picking up the parcels, so to err on the side of the neurotic I opt to wash.
This morning the dawter and I kept our distance and walked down to the sheep who kept theirs. Through the avenue, round the chickens up to the gate, touched it, turned round and greeted a lovely couple of old wimmin with their ten year old dog. The wimmin have lived together for years and have the pink glowing cheeks of early morning porridge and knitting in front of the fireside whilst the wireless mumbles in the background. One now has a zimmer frame whilst the other holds the dogs’ lead.
The wind blew away the cobwebs.
Got home and sat in the garden to meditate. By the time I came in for a banana and coffee my hands had turned into ten frozen fish fingers.
The air here is still and there is very little noise. My jeans are tight round the waist, that’s what comes of coronavirus binge eating, I intend stepping out of the denims into some pj’s after I’ve hung out the last load of washing.
The studio at the end of the garden has finally come into its own, the old git has set it up so we are now able to do voice overs for whomsoever needs them.
Conspiracy theories abound; solutions, confusions, timetables, longevity, comparisons. I’m surrendering. Every day feels like Sunday so I’m surrendering. Can’t go shopping. so I’m surrendering. Can’t see my friends or family, so I’m surrendering. We have bottles of champagne in the cellar, I never drink, but a glass of bubbly with him and her is a good way to end the day. When the fizz has all gone I’ll do one of them dissolving vitamin c tablets in a pint of water, that’ll do. This surrendering lark is the only way to go.
Appropriate behaviour for such times. No blame, no shame, just giving in and staying well. No advice, no judging, just giving in and staying well. No fear, no anxiety, just trying to stay cool. We have honey bees and bumble bees joining us every day, the butterflies have returned. We have worm casts and scudding clouds. We have young neighbours who are looking after us with remote shopping and pictures of puppies. We have American friends calling every day, family in different shires who call whilst their cooking. The dawter sits out in the dark at 8.o’clock, looking up at the stars and having virtual chats with her self isolating mates she calls it ‘Drunk on the driveway’. First night there were five of them, last night fifteen….
I’m showering and bathing reading and cooking. I’m being good to myself and ignoring anything that makes me affeared. Little telly, little radio, lots of music and plenty of vacuuming to lift the gloom. I’ve just lit an incense cone and the old git has lit the stove. I’ve turned all the clocks an hour forward so that when I surrender tonight I wont have to wander round the house twiddling knobs.
The young left-hand neighbour will bring us our Sunday papers, and the young right- hand neighbour will deliver us some potatoes. Every day I send out affirmations to help heal us all, and genuinely collapse into a state of total gratitude. What more can we do in such times.
From North to South from East to West I wish you all the very best, I wish you health and hope and lots and lots of foamy soap. I wish us all the will to change, to exist in a consciousness back-upped with bliss. I wish you this.