The most righteous fish pie known to man was consumed by all. We found ourselves scrapping the serving spoon against the side of the ovenproof dish, trying to conjure up more pie, like a genie from a bottle. Gewurztraminer, if you haven’t tried it, please do.
I do feel busy at times, but its such a different busy from that which suffocated me. Like the child within, lining up my sweets in a row, saving all my favourites on the dinner plate till last, I stack a month worth of Friday’s ahead of me. Exciting days. Wrote to Mr Gold, how the scaffolding of life never takes me away more than three hours from home, a meal around the table, 2 good 2 bad and laughter.
A fantastic walk home led me to the new superstore structure. A bottle of Margaux and some crisps, perfect. It feels weird being home by 5:05pm almost naughty. It feels right, almost natural.
Walking back on a pitch black disused railway line. Courtesy of Beeching circa 1960’s. What a fantastical feeling of impending winter. No Time, exercised. Raise my Margaux to the Celts and No Time. Stop. Calm the storm. It’s all beautiful. Easy
Slow motion.
leaned on my every day.
six oh six perfects my heart and soul.
fought valiantly. measured the distance. held my breath. held my breath. held my breath. till i could hold no more. when the streets had emptied. when the crowds diminished. when the passers by, passed by. i breathe. cold water no more fill your lungs. sweet air. breath too young clare. breath too.
