(a difference makes).
Work was full of cold on the shop floor. Heating issues, panic attacks, and a woman who swore she had never seen a town handle their snowfall as atrociously as Oxford.
Well,
go figure.
(I love that term...go figure. No. I don't really. Hmm. I cannot decide. Trash, garbage, kids, mall, terry (towel), zits and poop are words I disklike quite a lot. Words I do like- pop, soda, sweater, children ).
Sorry. It's been a long day.
I now have *coal*! I managed to just about stagger home tonight with a sack of coal balanced precariously and very uncomfortably over my shoulder, with kindling in the other hand and *groceries* in the other (Loving 'groceries').
I grit my teeth better than the grit beneath my feet, or the LACK of it, as I slip slid over the pavements in my snow joggers (which, I realised today have many a hole. Sheesh. Just when I needed them not to have holes. I have wet feet as we speak.
Or as I speak.
Or type.
Or waffle).
Supper= Butter.
I've been getting back into butter in a big way.
It's hitting all my spots. Each and every one. Over and over again.
Spread on everything (well, just bread).
Love in a foil package, kept in my fridge...
but I really need
a butter dish.
Less exciting news...
I'm Moving with a caps lock M to London in April...
so, currently looking for a home and a garden for Rollo. He's not that picky...but I am.
I need a bath.
My life has gone without a bath for too long.
Pleasure of the hot water be mine.
I'm looking forward to it. A new chapter- all those fresh page cliches....
Disco's, parks, new skill sets (baking courses!) new jobs, new bedsheets,
new smiles on the streets
probably a few new tears, some fears...tears for fears.
Onwards, upwards...new socks, hugs, lessons.
I want it all-right now. But I must wait.
Practice patience. Enjoy an Oxford Spring...watch soft eyed as the daffodils start to awaken and the birds come back from wherever they are now.
I have a feeling this year is going to bring some massive missives (maybe not in pen on paper, pushed through my letter box) but more in the shape of
dance steps
dealt to you and I
we will want to open up the night and dance through it. I don't care who sees, nor if my smile is silly, or my skirts tucked into my knickers.
Everything will matter, yet nothing will matter
and I'll teach my dreams to sing.
I'm all high on butter and coal and this new music going into my ears and into my heart.
This snow turns off the night and brings me a clementine shower beam, slips through the slats in my blinds and wakes me up,
and I remember
how
glorious
to be
a l i v e
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