As Virginia Woolf said, ‘When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don’t seem to matter very much, do they?’
That’s what I’ve been doing. Considering the stars. And getting over myself and my petty worries. Still waiting for a biopsy appointment (good ole NHS - whip you into a frenzy then leave you dangling) but in the Grand Scheme of Life, the Universe and Everything In It I have decided there is nothing to waste time fretting about, so I shan’t. Que sera, sera and all that. Also, a good chat with my Auntie Pollie has helped enormously. We share a wavelength, she and I.
Today is Lord Malarkey and my 20th wedding anniversary. Twenty years! Flippin’ heck! So much change in those two decades - so much growth and lots of gains, way too many losses amongst those who celebrated our marriage with us, ups and downs, ins and outs, one great big Hokey Cokey dance of life - that’s what it’s all about. Hey?
Apparently, the 20th anniversary is marked with china but as we have enough crockery/ vases/ bowls in the house and Lord Malarkey is a Taurus and therefore prone to breakages, we have decided instead to buy ourselves a sundial for the garden to mark the occasion. (I don’t know why I said ‘garden’ because sundials are notoriously inaccurate in an indoor situation. Must have been a writing rhythm thing.) We are out for dinner this evening with friends, so that will be nice. I shall also demand to be taken out for a lunch consisting solely of cake as our oven is still out of action (awaiting the delivery of a circuit board) and I’m not putting the Aga ovens on in this warm weather. How long the small oven will take to be repaired now is also debatable as we have entered another Mercury retrograde which will likely interfere with all things communication and technical until it rights itself on 29th of this month. Sigh…
The carpet baby swallows have fledged - five in all which brings our swallow baby total this year to nine. They keep flying into the kitchen which causes Nell much excitement and me much angst, especially as they often become stuck behind the radio and I have to fish them out as calmly as possible with a frantic, leaping dog barking encouragement from the sidelines. Andy reckons they are scoping out the kitchen as a possible nesting site for next year. I say they can jolly well think again.
The frantic, leaping barking dog, Nell, also has moments of calm. Here she is, after a day of full on canal-walking activity followed by hyper-vigilance regarding the Damson Cottage squirrels. She just climbed into my lap, flopped her head on my shoulder and was spark out in seconds:
My arm didn’t go dead at all. Well, maybe just a bit.
And here is Bambino after a game of ArtStraw Mania. What I do is pile the straws into a neat stack and then he RUSHES in, DIVES on them and spends a berserk ten minutes scattering them all over my office. I attempt to gather them up again, and he PLOMPS on them like some sort of enraged hen retreating to her nest after a particularly strenuous bout of worm wrestling. And then we start all over again…
He’s looking a bit defiant, I think. But he isn’t a defiant cat. Just a bit of a numpty.
I’ve just been contemplating my crystals and wondering which will accompany me for the day. Yellow jasper is calling. Protection for spiritual work and any travel, and assists feelings of physical well-being. It also releases toxins, stimulates the solar plexus and heals digestion.
That’ll be for the cake, then.
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