That feels good, too

Thursday October 21, 2004

It came as no surprise to me that Graham should want a day off today. He’s done a lot of draining and needs to recharge. And, though he’s sleeping, it’s a restless sleep. Again, no surprise there.

I wasn’t at all surprised, either, when he excused himself from the supermarket trip this morning.

“I think I’d rather just flop and enjoy being home,” he said. “If you don’t mind.”

“Well, of course I don’t mind. Put your feet up. You’ve earned it.”

So off I floated into an wildly windy but clear blue sky kind of day. For the first time in ages I actually took note of the countryside through which I passed. Why, at one point, I even stopped, pulled the pencam out of my bag, and grabbed some shots of the mill at Sibsey. I’ve been meaning to do that for ages but, recently, I simply haven’t seen the thing.

It’s good to feel the scale lifting from my eyes once more.

And it was good to get home to find it warm, smelling of coffee, and inhabited once more. Graham was sitting at his computer, wading through a four week load of spam and email. Dolly was sprawled on the couch at his side. Harry was curled up tight as tight on the bed, snoring happily.

I unpacked the provisions from the car, took a short break, and made our lunch. Then, a long, long afternoon nap. I suppose I’ve been draining, too, because it was almost seven before I woke. I lay there for a few moments, puzzled, trying to work out where I was, what time it was, and what was different.

The difference was that there was someone else in the house, someone else playing soft music and boiling the kettle for tea.

That felt good, too.

And then, later on, I pulled out my notebook and started work on a new poetry project. It’d been building up all day, starting from a germ of an idea yesterday evening. I could wish my ambition was a little less of the stars than it is because I’ve no real confidence that I can bring off a cycle of fifteen sonnets. That’s a lot of sonnets, and a lot of interconnections to manage. Completion isn’t important of course—it’s the process that matters, more now than ever before. The emotion is there, and that’s what’s driving me. That and the feeling that we’re all home together again.

So, whatever, that feels good, too.


Sibsey, Oct,'04
Sibsey Mill
pencam photo


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