Day off
I stayed in bed until ten o’clock today. On a Wednesday! The house quiet, dog curled up at my feet, good book, sun shining in through the window (which via the trees makes an interesting PowerPoint presentation of abstract art on my wall), permission granted to not turn up for work.
Bliss.
Almost...Isn’t there always a catch? In this case it’s a throat that’s been filed with an emery board, cough to rival my chain-smoking Aunt Agatha’s and nose that drips with more ferocity than the tap in the bath – which of course we keep a bucket under. Der!
Now I sit in the sun, in my pjs on the back deck. Drugged and nasal sprayed, it’s almost enjoyable. I close my eyes and feel the warmth on my lids, listen. The wind in the gum trees sounds like a million children shaking bits of tinsel. A yappy dog in some far away neighbour’s yard barks spasmodically at some phantom intruder. (Or maybe a real one!) The Belgrave train trundles along through Heatherdale and Mitcham stations and I can hear the bells on the boom gates today. A child shrieks happily from the playground in the park and of course I hear birds: noisy minors, Indian Mynahs, currawongs, ravens, turtle doves, magpies, gazelles, feather gliders, electric eels, trumpet fish, ancient Egyptian mummies – woops, dozed off. And the wind chime my father made for me.
I’ve given the dog a bone (sounds like a song) and she thinks it’s Christmas, Mothers Day, Hanukka, Melbourne Cup all rolled into one. She’s gnawed it as much as she can and is now in the process of burying it, digging it up and burying it somewhere else. It’s comical to see her wander all around the garden with the bone in her mouth, trying to decide where to put it next.
The chooks are huddled together in a group watching her every move.
I have always loved being outside. And I have always loved mornings – there’s a different feel to the afternoon altogether.
Sitting outside, on a lovely sunny morning, doing nothing, without feeling guilty is BLISS.
Even with a lurgy.
Bliss.
Almost...Isn’t there always a catch? In this case it’s a throat that’s been filed with an emery board, cough to rival my chain-smoking Aunt Agatha’s and nose that drips with more ferocity than the tap in the bath – which of course we keep a bucket under. Der!
Now I sit in the sun, in my pjs on the back deck. Drugged and nasal sprayed, it’s almost enjoyable. I close my eyes and feel the warmth on my lids, listen. The wind in the gum trees sounds like a million children shaking bits of tinsel. A yappy dog in some far away neighbour’s yard barks spasmodically at some phantom intruder. (Or maybe a real one!) The Belgrave train trundles along through Heatherdale and Mitcham stations and I can hear the bells on the boom gates today. A child shrieks happily from the playground in the park and of course I hear birds: noisy minors, Indian Mynahs, currawongs, ravens, turtle doves, magpies, gazelles, feather gliders, electric eels, trumpet fish, ancient Egyptian mummies – woops, dozed off. And the wind chime my father made for me.
I’ve given the dog a bone (sounds like a song) and she thinks it’s Christmas, Mothers Day, Hanukka, Melbourne Cup all rolled into one. She’s gnawed it as much as she can and is now in the process of burying it, digging it up and burying it somewhere else. It’s comical to see her wander all around the garden with the bone in her mouth, trying to decide where to put it next.
The chooks are huddled together in a group watching her every move.
I have always loved being outside. And I have always loved mornings – there’s a different feel to the afternoon altogether.
Sitting outside, on a lovely sunny morning, doing nothing, without feeling guilty is BLISS.
Even with a lurgy.
Comments
Hope you are over your lurgy. Like you, I love sitting outside. I have a large deck off the back of my house in Brisbane and love sitting out there in the morning sun, especially during winter. Enjoying your blog very much. Hope the writing is going well.
Cheers,
Lynn
Nothing like a back deck.
Cheers
Carole