I have been counting the days wrong. I thought today was day 80 but luckily Son (22) was paying attention, it's actually day 70. 80 sounds more spectacular but is unfortunately untrue. I need to go back and correct the previous posts. Son is still moving out on June 1st. In fact, he's negotiating with the landlord to bring the date forward. Son (20) is also threatening to do the same. What are we going to do this summer?
The morning is gearing up to be yet another beautiful day. Last night I had glorious yoga with Karen. She doesn't call it that; glorious is how I feel afterwards. It's all gentle stretching movements and breathing exercises which both energises and calms the nervous system. The most strenuous movement is the boat pose which I detest. It involves keeping your bum on the ground while simultaneously lifting your feet and upper body off the ground at the same time. I can barely lift my shoulders. At the end of the hour and a half, I feel so sublime I take care to switch off my alarm and slide right into bed. The beauty of classes via Zoom is there is no having to deal with the real world like getting into a car to go home or conversing with others.
I sleep like a king. In fact, I slept so well, I did not notice the open window nor the fact that the blinds were not closed. My bedroom faces North-East and somehow this morning, the sun managed to squeeze between the houses opposite and send through a shaft of light. It hit the back wall of my bedroom and filled the room with this incredible red-golden light. It was so bright it woke me up. At first, I thought somebody had flipped on the light switch. I went from annoyance to sleepy wonder. I looked at the time: 5.45 am. It was earlier than I had planned but I got up and went for my jog.
On the way back, I met Hubbie setting out for his walk. I greeted him with a wail, "What are we going to do this summer?" It's our first child-free summer in 26 years and we always planned our holidays around what the kids wanted.
The morning is gearing up to be yet another beautiful day. Last night I had glorious yoga with Karen. She doesn't call it that; glorious is how I feel afterwards. It's all gentle stretching movements and breathing exercises which both energises and calms the nervous system. The most strenuous movement is the boat pose which I detest. It involves keeping your bum on the ground while simultaneously lifting your feet and upper body off the ground at the same time. I can barely lift my shoulders. At the end of the hour and a half, I feel so sublime I take care to switch off my alarm and slide right into bed. The beauty of classes via Zoom is there is no having to deal with the real world like getting into a car to go home or conversing with others.
I sleep like a king. In fact, I slept so well, I did not notice the open window nor the fact that the blinds were not closed. My bedroom faces North-East and somehow this morning, the sun managed to squeeze between the houses opposite and send through a shaft of light. It hit the back wall of my bedroom and filled the room with this incredible red-golden light. It was so bright it woke me up. At first, I thought somebody had flipped on the light switch. I went from annoyance to sleepy wonder. I looked at the time: 5.45 am. It was earlier than I had planned but I got up and went for my jog.
On the way back, I met Hubbie setting out for his walk. I greeted him with a wail, "What are we going to do this summer?" It's our first child-free summer in 26 years and we always planned our holidays around what the kids wanted.
"We'll get a barbecue," he said, "and do what everyone does in their back garden in nice weather."
I'm not a fan. A few Christmases ago, Hubbie's brother, Paul threatened to buy us a barbecue set for Christmas. "Tell him we don't want it," I said to Hubbie.
"Why don't we want it?" said he.
"Because I don't like barbecue food. With our weather we won't use it very often and where are we going to store the monstrosity in the winter."
Hubbie shook his head and said, "It's bad karma to refuse a gift."
"It's bad karma to force someone to accept a white elephant if you say you don't want it."
Hubbie wouldn't be told. So, two days after Christmas, Paul collected us and drove us to the B&Q hardware shop in MahonPoint. While I sulked in the back seat Paul talked up the benefits of cooking outdoors. Paul parked up and as we walked towards the shop entrance, I bit the bullet.
"Why don't we want it?" said he.
"Because I don't like barbecue food. With our weather we won't use it very often and where are we going to store the monstrosity in the winter."
Hubbie shook his head and said, "It's bad karma to refuse a gift."
"It's bad karma to force someone to accept a white elephant if you say you don't want it."
Hubbie wouldn't be told. So, two days after Christmas, Paul collected us and drove us to the B&Q hardware shop in MahonPoint. While I sulked in the back seat Paul talked up the benefits of cooking outdoors. Paul parked up and as we walked towards the shop entrance, I bit the bullet.
"Paul," I said, "No offence, but I don't want a barbecue set."
"Nonsense," said he. "It's about time you came into the 21st century and join the rest of us in the adult world." And with that, he stepped through the sliding doors of the shop. I reluctantly followed.
Inside the shop, Paul quickly scanned the shelves and displays. I stopped a passing sales assistant and asked for the barbecue section. "Oh, they're out of season," he said, "we won't be getting them in before March." Gloating is a terrible thing but I struggled to keep the smirk off my face. Leaving B&Q again, we stepped out into the cold winter air. I couldn't stop smiling. Paul said, "Ok so, what do you want for Christmas?" Eyeing Curry's in the distance, "How about a Nespresso machine?" I said. The three of us walked briskly to Currys. While Paul looked at coffee-making gizmos that froth your milk and have multiple levers, I quietly picked up a sexy red and black Nespresso machine, their basic model, and headed for the checkout. Paul caught up with me before I paid for it and shoved in his credit card ahead of mine. Some people are so stubborn.
So now the only plan for the summer is to get a barbecue. If this weather keeps up; a well-fried burger, cooked by a man, in my own back garden, and washed down by a can of Bulmers could be glorious indeed.
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