This Week

= happy jules

A warm bed in the country

I spent this last weekend in the country with friends. When I say 'the country', I mean it in most quintessentially English way possible -- chintz curtains, geese squawking at 6am and many references to Jane Austen. There are few places I'd rather wake up than in a warm bed in the country, sun streaming through flowery curtains, the smell of bacon and toast and coffee wafting up steep stairs... wish you could have been there.

Waiting

How much time do I spend waiting. I don't mean literally waiting for a bus, or a train, or a friend who's late for coffee. I mean mentally waiting for things/events/people to show up in my life... It struck me today that sometimes I'm so focused on where I want to be, what I want to change that I forget about now, this moment. A tired me propped up on cushions under a stripey blanket, typing away for prosperity and practice into a white laptop. I've given up a few things for Lent, vices mostly - coffee, alcohol - but I've also given up waiting. We live here, now, not five years down the line, and I hope I can make the most of it.

Black Against the Sky

There's a song by Beth Orton with the lyrics

See the trees, black against the sky

Maybe you know it. Ms Orton is poetic beyond words and I love her graceful tone. One of my favourite visual images is of the trees in winter, black against the sky in the fading half-light, English tea-time. Something magical happens in that slice of time that's not-quite-day, not-quite -evening. It's not even 'dusk', that comes later, rather the beginning of the fading of the day. It's my favourite time of day. Some get tired then, the afternoon almost over, home beckoning, the thought of small hands grabbing onto a skirt... But as the light fades and the trees draw their black lines gracefully across a fading grey canvas I smile.

Black against the sky.
There they are.

Blogiversary #2

I started this blog two years ago, almost to the day. Was I different then? Probably. Can I remember? Vaguely.

Grateful #4

Great-full for these gorgeous things this week:

1. Bright as Yellow by Innocent Mission: discovered on a gift cd from a friend across the pond. Includes the classic line, 'I don't wanna be rose, I don't wanna be pale pink, I want to be bright as yellow.' Don't we all!

2. Jaffa Cakes: recently rediscovered and highly underated... lush. This list would of course be incomplete without the inclusion of something edible.

3. Cecil: He's a stuffed monkey, around 60cm tall, with ridiculously skinny arms and legs. He's made from brown/blue suiting and has a felt, hand-embroidered face. I made him myself and if that makes me odd then I don't care. Next up: Agnes, a pale grey rabbit with Liberty ears.

4. Friends from far away: who still make me laugh, challenge me and speak into my life from far away. Love you guys.

Tony Takitani

Imagine....

Heavy rainfall - peas in a collander... heavy piano chords, minor key, grey, tungsten light... a beautiful tree, black against the sky... the click of a slender heel, loneliness you can grasp in your hands.

Tony Takitani is a beautifully crafted adaptation of the short story by Haruki Murakami. The emotion is so beautiful it very nearly killed me.

Affection

Affection is an underated emotion. We talk a great deal about love, (often when we mean lust), too much about hate, and not enough about the raw depth of affection. There are a smattering of people who grace this life who I have a deep-seated affection for. I can't explain it. They may be good friend, they may not. Often I don't know much about their everyday lives, I don't see them at work, at home, I don't understand their jokes... but I have an affection for them that is as deep as love but more simple. Like Victoria sponge cake, sponge and jam with no pretence...

Weekend in the country

Tea, and I love you very much

Peace

All the misfortunes of men come from one thing only: their not knowing how to remain at peace in a room at home. -- Pascal, Pensées