Tomorrow, tomorrow for sure.

Magnificent Watercolours by A Paris Breakfast.

 

Pretty … or more appropriately,  P…R…E…T…T…Y overwhelming have the last few months been.  Victor of them all, cherub named Procrastination.  I know I do it, blooming hell, I am the champion of the disease, and yet here it comes, and there it goes.  Tomorrow, tomorrow for sure.  It is the beginning of a new day, a new agenda, a whole new life for me.

To begin with the travel plans. Not so much.

To look for meaning full, financially viable work.  Not so much.

Sell up everything, tell no-one and find my little place I can ‘Escape to Chateau’ in, discovering hidden talent for flytraps and septic tanks amongst the reveal of antique tapestries that tell stories of conquerors and the fates.  Not so much.

Instead, of late, I watch them, dream about them, listen to men with gravelled British accents reading books by John Le Carre whilst calming the inner tantrum child that is still unable to get to my children, drop tales of english history in the cobbled streets of London and my destiny at the Italian lakes.  I have tempered my own rhythm and quelled my own storm.  And I am now officially a member of the Bennet family. Thank you Jane Austen.

I am embroidering.

The mind continues to unravel like the threads on my desk. The concentration on the physical doing helps though and the hours pass quickly, endless cups of tea, endless, endless cups of tea.

We all wait.  Make the most of it. My relationship with Boris is tenuous at this point. A fully vaccinated British citizen who must face the hell of hotel quarantine and watch in disbelief as the favoured escape restrictions to enjoy Wimbledon.

I am embroidering and dreaming of that French patisserie. Summer in London and cow parsley.

‘At the still point, there the dance is.’ T.S.Elliot

At the still point is where I find myself.  Am teaching myself that it is what is needed to be safe and wait for the world to heal.  At the still point I am flooded with memories of the past. It has been lovely, and it has been good and I wait for it.  There is much to be said for the calming of life, but then again, at my age, there is this little window of now and before I have no option but to sit in a ray of sunshine and not able to get out there and really do the things I put off for so long in life.  Am I the only one?

Tomorrow.  Tomorrow for sure to muster the energy and make the plans.

To all those who have suffered from Covid, or have friends and family who have, have succumbed to it, my heart goes out to you.  We have lost too many good people, so my little rant seems petty and small, I feel it, but it has also fostered in me, a desire to really live, fully, without procrastination or fear.

War is like that not so?  In the losing, in the chaos, we yearn to live. And thrive. To love and be loved.

Sending love xxx

Image:  Paris Breakfast