Summer
I love summer. I love longer days and sitting outside. I love sunshine and flowers. This summer is a strange one, living in a rented house amid the uncertainty and stagnation of the pandemic. Here is a record of a day for when all this is behind us. I wake naturally, without an alarm at about half past seven. This is one of the great pleasures and privileges of being older. After years of being woken by children or the demands of work when the morning was a frantic time of juggling and school bags, of taking the dog out and leaping in the car, using the journey to connect with work, always feeling rushed and on overdrive, these days I wake quietly. Ian usually gets up first and makes himself a cup of coffee and me a pot of tea. I drink it quietly in bed, reading the paper on my ipad. The road where we live is quiet too. From here we can hear the church bells striking and they might call me to get up. Going downstairs here is very different from coming down at our old house.
