OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.
Waking up with my love is always special. Waking up with my love in a special place is magic. And because it was Sunday, there was time for coffee and reading in bed, tea on the balcony with a view, and a delicious, leisurely breakfast – Eggs Benedict, my favourite, and more coffee – before heading home to more Sunday laziness.
I have not been well lately, feeling lost and fragile and trying more or less successfully to manage the instability and a heavy workload. My love has been a rock of support through it all. And this weekend of relaxation and beauty has been heaven.
I can’t say that I was completely restored to myself and ready for action when I returned home, but I was more at peace and, although I had no desire whatsoever to start catching up with any of the work waiting for me (not on a Sunday! it is by not respecting my limits and usual boundaries that I got into this shaky state in the first place), I was happy to do some much-needed gardening: I pruned a few trees, cleared the path to the house, removed mountains of dead leaves and, to top it all, cleaned the pool (which was turning green because of neglect). The Cats assisted throughout and were very happy to have me outdoors, dispensing cuddles between my tasks.
There is a real autumn feel in the air, the seasons changing.
We spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening in front of the TV, watching soccer and Survivor, reading books and newspapers, eating and drinking. When I visited the Alma Café to exchange some books on Friday, I got one of the pies they sell from Luke’s Larder. Perfect for a late lunch after gardening; and for dinner, simple perfection: cheese, toast and red wine.
This coming week, I tackle provisional tax and editing. I soldier on as best as I can. One small step after another.
Let’s agree not to talk about the tennis.
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”