I am writing this letter, filling you in on my day's doings. I hope, (I secretly know) that you will be interested, because like me dearest, you like to tiptoe up, peep in and smile. Watch life unfurling in its wonderful, quiet, slow, methodical way. Minute by minute, second by second. Each happening a little piece of theatre. Unique and utterly perfect.
Tis not voyeuristic but merely curiousness. An admiring appreciation of folk and the ways lives manifest themselves, in ways totally different but so recognisably the same as your very own.
Needles are picked up in houses, simultaneously. In a beat. The stitches the same. The reasons different; the approach different (hurried, slow and precise, sworn or hummed over...I pricked my finger Dear Friend and marvelled at how it made my heart thump); the end results so beautifully different. Like the stitchers. I am stitching names on little calico aprons, for the Littlest B's Baking Birthday.
Birthdays, how many occur each and everyday. It is like a single, honed, clear beam of light, piercing a crystal. The result: a shower of rainbow sparkling differences, bouncing, tinkling into the corners of Life. The emotions, the memories and hopes, dreams and frustrations, all complete and unique.
Birthdays of little ones passed on, the hardest (for all you Mummies of Angels...my love x)
"The sun is supposed to shine tomorrow. I am planning washing" she said to me. I didn't know whether to laugh or hug her right there in the playground! Are we all the same?
Looking for the sunshine. A British past time. I have brought it's colours into the house. Handmade, shop bought, rescued, passed on...sprucing, improving, changing, swapping. Can't you see us all? A birds-eye Ikea advert?
I have run this morning. Sitting on the wall, breathing heavily, I looked at my legs. At once exhausted and heart thankful. Its a gift, yes. We can get up, go, run and run and run.
It is not six people that separate me from someone who cannot. An immediate friend and his wonderful wife. Hoping dreaming that one day, a future day will come. And that day will bring bike riding, walking unaided, playing football with his children, running the Daddy's race? I ran Race for Life, for this truly lovely, welcoming, warm family x Trounce it!!
I would have to be rescued from the confectionary aisle. Am I recognisable, can you give me a hint. Or can you sigh, reassured that you have eaten well and whole and pass me the houmous instead?!
The Lavender is in full bloom, the roses are fat. It makes me happy. Simply happy. Do you still follow my advice and bring roses in?
In my head, we have talked and talked, 'of many things. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax; And cabbages and kings.' That is the joy of friends. For it does not need to be my kitchen table, or your back garden. We are always talking. These are what I would have started with!
Till next time...love always, MrsB