Saturday March 8, 2008
I denied all credit for it, honest I did, but I do confess that I preened just a little when Graham complimented me on how well I’d kept the house while he was away.
“All I did was sit still and not make a mess,” I protested.
“If that’s so then you’ve perfected it until it’s close to an art form.”
Thinking about it, it’s true that sitting still and not making a mess, taken together with emptying the head and finding there’s nothing there is really rather Zen. I should write a book. Zen and the art of not making a mess. Sounds quite good, that.
Graham has returned with even more determination to get us back to West Wales. I agree the time is right for us once more.
Wales is a strange place. Once it gets into your soul you can never quite loose yourself from it. Like the cry of the curlew and the curled-beak sneer of the you can’t catch me gull, once you’ve heard its song then your silences are never the same.
The author, webmaster, and minder of the cat
