Sunday, 7 August 2011

Sunday morning blissfullness...

The sound of boys playing with trains and toys while my coffee grows cold. I wait. I listen. Will they fight? No. Harmony. A nice change.

Play Doh, noisy electronic toys, gifts from a naughty aunt. Hand me down toys that endure and miraculously survive.

Random music from my iPod hooked to the speakers on the fridge. Adam Ant. Ben Watt remixes and Chaka Khan. Melodious magic. Music. I would not be me without it.

Peaceful peace. Moments frozen in time. My memories seem to be a tableau of moments like these. My mind does not seem to record things like it used to. Age?

Ah, The Beatles. I'm rushed back to my childhood. What songs will carry my children back to their childhood. Random bollocks no doubt.

We leave for the UK in in 2 weeks exactly. I've not packed a thread. I have lists though. Three or four. One of them is in my head. The other on the back of my hand. Flying with kids. Madness. They have yet to invent the teleport alas.

Shall I knit? I look over and see the reflection of Jnr Jnr horse riding on his daddy's tummy. Daddy sounds pained.

I should do something but really can't be bothered. The sky is an uninspiring and very flat grey. It says 'Blah' rather rudely. Still in my pyjamas. Another coffee honey?

I really do think I have left this place already. My mind is full of elsewhere. And elsewhere is the people we left in England five and half years ago. When you stop thinking about people you miss, stop talking about them even, you know it is time to see them again.

Looking forward to the 'Hello Gates' at Manchester airport. If I look that far forward I might not have to endure the 24hrs, in the air, in a long metal tube with our hyper-boys. No chance.

I love SuNDaYS [courtesy of Jnr Jnr as he likes the CAPS LOCK light]...

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