Rainy days and Mondays are perfect.

  ‘Rainy days and Mondays …’  Paul Williams did not like them.  I loved both yesterday.  Don’t love drab, soot cloudy sky in perpetuity, or bone cold, but yesterday, the rain and the beginning of a new week was perfect. No death eaters in sight.

No thinking of them yesterday.  I choose instead to work in the Orangerie, a diamond view of the Kitchen Garden at Ham House. Echoes of 1672 on a rainy day – there is birdsong, and the dripping of drops from the eaves.  Old books, warm kitchen cafe and tea.  Lots of tea.

Standing in what could have been a scene from Bridget Jones, only I waiting for the bus with the huddled in Richmond, narrowly missing the wave of water every time a bus stops here, I knew it would be a long walk.  The House is far for the footed and public bus travellers.  It meant a walk in the rain, with bag, another bag and countryside challenges.  I had three options:  the river walk, which may have swollen and cut off the path, the meadow and turnstiles, possible deep drifts of water and horses to tread lightly past – and the longer, but safer option in the wet.  Longer being the operative word. It’s a Winnie-the-Pooh kind of thing and this was English country living mouse time.

In the quiet of the Orangerie, I sat still.  Worked in stillness. Beginning of the week plans and execution of business, immersion of garden and planting for future crops. The tulips are budding, the ducks conversing on the river and I am telling you this because it all felt … so peaceful. So very English countryside life. Unhurried and uncomplicated which is anything but what some of our lives are in Silver Street.

I work seven days a week.  Commute most of these.  Taken to pencil writing in the diary for all the changes that happen – it’s just the way it is at the moment, so when it rained, was Monday and a good one and I wanted to share it with you.  Times you just have to find the quiet corner and be still.

Would have been a good time to pen a poem, but that was asking a little too much.  Time ran out.

Puddle luscious, drenched and not a care in the world, for a Monday.  Was a good one. A new page didn’t care if the hair went wild kind of day.  Find the same, just for a little while.