Back To Work

Today was a special day in our household – I had already been back at work a day, but this morning Carl went back to work, to his new job. It is funny how fast a routine can slide away, and a new one replace it, almost as though the other had never been. But this morning it was as though the last few months had not had a rhythm of their own. Radio 4 woke us at 6:00am, Carl brought me a cup of tea, then went into the shower while I made our lunches. We had some time together before I waved him off (I always say ‘don’t run down the steps’ as he goes, just like my Mum did when she used to see me off at the school gate!).

Then I discovered I was ready a little earlier than I would usually be, so I took a fresh cup of tea into the bedroom, and listened to Radio 4 while I flicked through the new issue of BBC Good Food magazine. I think I could be happy forever, with an endless pot of tea, somewhere comfortable to snuggle, and Radio 4 to listen to. Eliot once wrote of measuring life out with coffee spoons – but unlike Alfred J Prufrock, my life is measured out by the hourly ‘pips’ of Radio 4!

When I left for work, it wasn’t raining, but there was a softness to the air, a cloudiness to the sky, and that kind of light that makes you blink, trying to clear your vision. By mid-morning the rain was chattering impatiently at the windows of my 4th floor office, but happily had dried up by lunch time, which meant I could go out for a gentle meander.

I didn’t want to walk far, but wanted to get some air in my lungs and shake the day out of my hair a bit. So I started by wending my way through the market – and picked up a couple of magazines for 75p each – the Christmas Woman and Home which I somehow resisted last month, and a copy of Psychologies which is fast becoming one of my favourite magazines. The fragrance from the ‘live dosa’ Indian stall was amazing, and made me feel glad I had my packed lunch with me! I lingered by the wool stall, but I have a lot of pink wool to be knitting up, and definitely didn’t need any more!

I left the market, and took a turn about the charity shop – I do love a good forage. Excitingly, this shop has some loosely crocheted, but hand-crocheted lap blankets for just £1.90! I might have to go back some time and bring some home. I love something to snuggle under! Today I came away with a glass jar with a stoppered lid, which I have washed out and have draining ready to hold my decaffeinated coffee. Our teabags and normal coffee are always decanted into pretty glass jars, but the decaf has been sitting slightly glumly in the jar it came in.

Back to work, and now home. Oh, how I love home. It’s funny, because although I love our flat, and am so familiar with the way the key turns in the lock, the sound the lights make when you flick them on – home is still home, wherever I go, it seems, as I loved our old flat just as much. I find my thoughts turning to our next home, and I think that wherever we end up physically, with our special things in it, and being together, and soon to be three, that will be home and I will love that too.

And now, on to bed. My eyes are starting to feel gritty with sleep. Our evening routine makes me smile at the thought of it – a hot water bottle slipped under the covers, Radio 4 on, the side lamps on so the light is low. I write in my gratitude journal, sip from my glass of water, and might light the oil burner to breathe in the lavender oil. And then I will go to sleep, ready to go back to work tomorrow.

Sleep tight!

Love, Mimi xxx


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