treading water

i was feeling, yesterday morning, like taking a long walk off a short pier: blame dark-
to-dark workdays, calamitous commutes, and stubbornly sullen skies.
yesterday afternoon, though, the weather turned, and my mood turned, too, as it tends to do, in the clear cold healing light.
i have the next five days off, and fine friends to meet, and enough film to see me
through these final strokes of winter.

keeping the faith

this careful eating has me craving sweetness; this full agenda has me lost for words; this weary winter has me longing for the scents, the songs, the colours of spring.
my disgruntlement is minor, though, and my distress negligible, so a kind email -
and an envelope of images that looked just as i'd hoped they might - was more than enough to make my day smile.

worse through a window

a patch of blue sky sidled by, yesterday, almost imperceptible between the hailstorm and the rain.
this has been a vacuously dreary winter, weather-wise, and i wish it would make up its mind: for better or for worse.

rolling down the years

i could propose a dozen toasts:
to the new house, to the old house, to the well-being of those i cherish, to peace, love, and happiness (i'm a child of the sixties: i may always have flowers in my hair), to friends lost and friends found, to winter sunshine, to summer shadow, to ventures and adventures and pets-come-home, to bravery, and tenacity, to the glow of a perfect light, to good luck and less luck and the generosity of strangers, to tales, to wonder, to potential realised, to those who dare and those who don't dare just yet, to those with goodness and compassion, for they make the world a finer place to be.
and then:
one more glass - for here, this place, for two-muses-now-one, for harmony pursued, for the challenge, and the simple joy of creating....and for you - welcome, appreciated - who visit and share your thoughts.
we are three years old today.
thank you.
and proost.