Marnie and Will sent us photographs of their Riad in Marrakech.
Pretty.
Light.
Beautifully clean.
I felt SO hard done by.
Jim says I will never be able to have a good holiday because I don’t know how to relax and because I want everything to be perfect.
My nephew says I don’t know how to have a good holiday because I am not practiced in it.
I had my first holiday, in England, when I was 35.
My brother and I were not shown how to have a good time, it’s not my parents fault they weren’t shown how to paint the town red either.
Road to Marrakech – Part Two
Waking up to the call to prayer made a change from the East Sussex starlings. Our room overlooked the garden with two tortoises an array of plants and an old fishing net.
Once we got the electricity back we could see that our room was big, the bed semi-soft, the shower cubicle red earth colour, whilst one wall in the bedroom was tastefully covered in mutli-coloured woven bamboo.
The wavy lines, however, were not conducive to sunstroke, local beer belly or extreme exhaustion. It was like post boat spin when you’ve travelled to Zebrugga and back in a force 8 gale and then have to interview Mr. Roy Hattersly at the House of Commons – but that’s another story.
blighty
Apart from sun stroke, food poisening, exhaustion, and shock, I am very well thank you. Once I have unpacked, mowed the lawn, done the accounts, sorted my washing, driven to London, found the post box key, paid the bills and emptied my head I will be back to normal. See you then.
Sunday funday.
After a breakfast of scrambled eggs – Bill Granger style – bacon, fresh coffee and toast, I drove Aj back to his car.
21 year old boys who play American football really are sweet arm candy.
The wind was fresh, although this evening its even fresher. The branches on the trees, over-looking the balcony, are waving their leaves around foppishly.
BB drove back into London so Sunday took on a bit of the-old-folks-at-home-scenario.
night time reveries
The cottage has a hole where the dog used to be.
Emmy, the cat, sleeps on the bean bag. I wonder if she is missing him too. But It is only my vain imaginings.
The clematis flowers, huge great big purple ones, have burst their buds round Jims shed.
The re-potted purple sage has kicked up a fuss. It did not like being moved into a new terracotta pot. So now the roses, instead of having their purple companion, drop their petals over a dishevelled droopy herb which looks like its sulking.
Humbugs
Its Wednesday evening. I don’t know whether it’s me, my age, the planets, the weather, the time of the year, my impending holiday, my impending tax bill, my impending birthday. I don’t know whether its because I am not exercising, not exercising enough, not exercising at all, I don’t know whether its because I am … Read more
Chewsday
Why Oh Why do I do it to myself?
It’s too late for anything really BUT…
I’ve just watched a documentary about The Berlin Philharmonic.
The individual working within the group. The sense of excitment and terror at performance, the notion of all pulling together and then the one voice. The need to communicate.
It was profoundly moving.
THE CHALK GARDEN
By the time I got home last night my feet were humming, my back singing and my brain all of a concert. I fell into bed, cut out the noise of the old git, the daughter, her friend and the throbbing balls of my feet.
I fell asleep immediately until 6.00
Went back to sleep until 8.00
Did all my admin. and now, at 9.38, I am wacking out yesterdays adventures.
Hold on while I say goodbye to the Northern spouse.
Walk on the West Side.
The weather was 25 degrees.
The little red car had its roof down, made for a comfortable drive to LBC.
The show went so quickly. A really swift 3 hours.
Straight to the acupuncturist. After which I made a decision.
North, South, Eats and West.
Dear June, Is my ‘oosbind in mint condition?
What do you think?
He was six years older than me 32 years ago which makes him nearly 92%older than the number you first thought of.
It’s 00.04. Four minutes past the witching hour although it feels like 7 in the evening and I’ll tell you why…..