Coffee In Bed
A day at home. It’s morning. Sat in bed, first coffee drunk.
From the window see a frost, a trailing mist.
Mr is watching videos of people having self inflicted accidents of which some are engagingly stupid; one admires the ambition, the optimism, the care free higgedly-piggedlyness which pandemic restrictions have currently outlawed.
From the window see the sky iced blue, see marigolds in the polytunnel leaning through lime tree branches, too tall to stand alone.
I ask for a second coffee.
Mr, downstairs, talks to the dog who woke us at dawn but is happy to sofa-nap now till breakfast.
Yesterday's marigold harvest. |
Comments
Thank you.
Those marigolds are gorgeous. It doesn't look like you've put them in a vase... what do you do with them? My foggy brain seems to remember there's some sort of spice you can get from them, maybe???
Take care, sweet lady.