Time And Toast


A disappointment with the cornflakes is soon forgot. Godson loves marmite and butter toast. He also loves Dog, who benefits from a slyly dropped crust. We make plans to view some cows (not many of those wander through his city life) and go off the path adventuring in the woods. He has a sonic screwdriver and I have some pruning shears. For now though I drive my houseguests into the wet slap of a small February town, leave them to continue the rounds of visits and I'll get them back all dizzy and in need of a rest tomorrow.
All the spare bedding is persuaded back into the airing cupboard, a tangled solid mess that makes me feel like I've just hidden a body.
There's a suitcase in my front room, a gauzy cerise bow wrapped at the handle to make it easy to locate from a train's luggage stackpoints. Several times this morning I look up from typing and smile at it.
And then work time appears on the clock: the day has been swallowed up as crafty and swift as Dog took the crust.


'One crust? I'll just lie here, wasting away.'

Comments

Suze said…
I love the caption, Lils. :)
14 February 2013 at 00:48
Lisa Southard said…
Dog has a good humour about her that inspires Great Silliness :-)
14 February 2013 at 01:02
The Cranky said…
Great silliness is a gift, whether it comes from two-legged or four-legged friends.
14 February 2013 at 06:26
Loree said…
What a good-looking dog. I love the part at the end about the day being swallowed up because it's so true.
14 February 2013 at 21:26
Lisa Southard said…
Thank you Loree- I will pass your compliment on to Dog. Finding my days being devoured far too rapidly this week: even think I have some kind of indigestion!!
15 February 2013 at 10:34
Lisa Southard said…
Jacqueline: we are lucky: we got both kinds here! xx
15 February 2013 at 10:35
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

Image
There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
Read more

September's End

Image
September is all but done. Our fingers are purple from plucking berries, scored by thorns, sore and satisfied. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Through the cold spring, and the soggy summer, we have worked to make this place more and more beautiful. We are charming sustenance from the soil with our toiling; using the present to craft a kinder path- a tree-lined, fruit-bearing way.  And so here we are, in autumn, a time of harvest, glut, and storage. A time to plant trees, a time of festival. Our lives are seasonal, tidal, temperate, held in repetitions that are never the same; variations of repeating patterns, a common uniqueness. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Pollinator friendly saplings added to  the firepit hedge, lower field.
Read more

Spring Is Ticking

Image
It has been a while since I wrote a blog post - I have been writing books, and keeping a diary, the days and the work aren’t lost, just ticking quietly in a corner. [There’s a little dust in that corner but the shelf is made of strong oak planks, and the light is enchanting. A plant grows in a pot, it spouts leaves. A half candle stands in a china holder.] At Paddock Garden (properly titled Paddock Garden Orchards, I am a lazy typer) a tree corral has been constructed. It contains persimmons which may not have survived the recent cold blasts and heavy rain, along with some happy pepper trees, bladdernuts, and plum yews. We plan to underplant and interplant extensively in this concentrated area. Around the grounds also we have begun some windbreak hedges, mostly of elaeagnus and hazel. We have a line of sapling native oaks edging the spinney. The first of our camping bay areas is growing emerald grass that was seeded last autumn; the second has recently been seeded; the last three need ...
Read more