jaunts

This morning a lovely thing happened to me. I walked down the stairs, and there, just inside the door, was a letter from a very dear friend of mine. In this letter was a remark about how lovely going on jaunts into the countryside with me is. I would have to agree, jaunts into the countryside are great and this year I am planning plenty.

Unfortunately the current state of gloom doesn't really inspire me to do more than shut my front door, close the curtains and sit down with the bears and a cup of tea to watch the raindrops fall in comfort. I have decided that February is a ghastly month and the end of it can't come soon enough.

It isn't helped by the vast quantities of money I have to spend on car insurance, road tax and MOT which all fall within the next two weeks. Of course, I love my car and I won't do without it (see country jaunts above, very important for such things), but it costs a lot of money, especially when it's all at once. My bank balance is soon to look terribly sad and I shall worry over it, I expect, for some time to come. I am a worrier by nature and I don't feel that things are right in the world unless I'm worrying about something.

Still, I shall look on the bright side. Spring will soon be here and much of it I intend to spend knee deep in flower beds, strolling along through gardens, over the downs and picnicing on blankets. Though all on the cheap of course!

afternoon tea

It's a little odd that having spent years protesting that I hate tea, that it's a horrible drink and tastes funny, that only coffee will do; I have been drinking a remarkable amount of tea in the last two weeks.

It all started on the day I got my hair cut (still loving it, I have to say). All dull with hangover, for some reason tea was the first thing that popped into my head when the girl, who was to wash my hair, asked me what I'd like to drink. I drank it, and looked about, and realised that the bright white lights didn't seem so bright, and I perked up. So much so that I had another cup shortly afterwards.

Since then I haven't looked back. Lyndsey is especially happy about this, as it means we can now drink tea together. Such a change from wine or coffee which is indeed our staple diet (with the occassional cocktail when the desire strikes us). In fact, I'm drinking a lovely cup of Twinings as I type. Delicious.

I now have lovely visions of summer afternoons spent in a hammock, or lounging on grass, picking at home made scones with whipped cream and strawberry jam, sipping from freshly made tea. Proper tea at that, in a tea pot, loose and dancing.

I really am becoming rather fond of the stuff. On the last couple of evenings, at the end of last week, before dashing off to theatre, or falling asleep at Katharine's dinner party (at the table, no less), it was tea that I grabbed in haste. I took a few precious moments to sup it, before dashing off, hither and tither, tripping in heels or pouting with lippy. I admit, I am a convert. I take all those remarks I made, about horrible taste, back. Let me make scones, I say, and all will be well in the world. And more tea!

green fields

There are days when my brain, constantly interrupted by the phone and people bursting into the office with pleas for help, beings to feel as if it is going to explode. Hundreds of different thoughts fly about, as if electrically charged, bumping into each other and starting little fires. I find myself talking faster, as if this will somehow help me keep up with my thoughts, words rushing out and all into one.

And suddenly it all stops, and I stare out the window at the blue sky and the green fields, and I have this extraordinary desire to run. Run and run and run, through the fields and towards the end of the sky.

I hate running. This tells me that I need to slow down, take a break, have a coffee or perhaps even tea, and banish these horrible thoughts of running forever. Bring back the stroll, I say.

oh brother of mine

After spending Friday night with James, watching Casablanca and drinking wine, I had a glorious Saturday to enjoy. It started with a mad hunt for painkillers and a glass of water, which Saturday mornings are wont to do, and proceeded with scrambled eggs on toast and a stroll into town to get my hair cut. I was very brave, I sat in the chair, gazing into the mirror and sipping a large cup of tea whilst inches of my hair were snipped off. I'm very pleased with the somewhat shorter but cleaner cut. In fact I'd go so far as to say that I think my bob suits me well.

Once dried and styled, I skipped out into the street and met James for another cup of tea and a wander around town. The poor fellow was feeling a little tired and out of sorts, probably due to the late night the night before, and so I let him wander home whilst I popped off to join the Library. It seemed a very strangly ordered place, with none of the books I wanted being listed in alphabetical order. I didn't mind too much, and had a good sort through the shelves, eventually taking three books by Vita Sackville-West which I need to read and inwardly digest for my Garden Design course.

I trotted off home, had a bowl of soup and waited for my brother to arrive, before tripping off to town again to buy a present for Mum's birthday and to pick up little brothers new Gresham Blake suit. I am a big fan of pin-stripe, and a great fan of Gresham Blake. I have to try very hard not to run up huge bills and walk out in style.

After yet another trip home and back into town, we went out for Thai at Mai Pei Ped, discussed families, the mob, jobs, cars, and other interesting things, before a perfect trip to Bar Valentino for more delicious cocktails and silliness.

All in all, a fabulous time with that brother of mine.