Friday, 4 January 2008

Contentment

Today I have felt like I could write the little quotes that you get on office calendars. My words of wisdom have included:

When you open the door to a snake vivarium, they don't come out right away. They wait a while, get used to the idea of freedom, then stick their heads out. People are like that. It takes a while to get used to freedom.

(said to Mum when she was telling me it is hard for her to come to terms with the fact that she has freedom to come and go as she pleases, cook what she likes, and not be fretting about how Dad has been at home, now he is in hospital)

Stress is like jelly on a plate. When you move the plate, the jelly wobbles. The plate stops moving, but the jelly still wobbles. It is like that when you have been under a burden, it takes a while to stop wobbling.

(said to Mum while describing how we are all recovering from Dad's ill health, and coming to terms with him being in hospital for the forseeable future)

In any box of buttons, there are ordinary buttons, beautiful buttons, and then one or two extraordinary little treasures that just gleam. Some days are like that. Like today.

(thought to myself when reflecting upon today)

So, what do you think, do I have a great career as a philosopher ahead of me?

Today was a gleaming-button day. I had the day off work, and started slowly with my favourite breakfast of boiled egg in a vintage egg cup, soldiers and steaming hot cup of tea. I read some more of my book, Jane and the Ghosts of Netlely by Stephanie Barron, which is a delightful bit of literary diversion, supposedly written from diaries of Jane Austen, in which she is a bit of a sleuth. Did a load of washing, rang Mum.

We decided she would come into town, I would meet her there for a bit of a potter and some lunch, then we would visit Dad.

It was cold when I went out, but not like yesterday. We met and called on my sister who was at work, and spent a few minutes in happy conversation. Then we queued at the post office, tut-tutting together about it now being in a branch of WH Smiths, and then wandered out into the town. We decided to have lunch, but could not decide where. There is at once a lot of choice and no choice in Chelmsford. There are Starbucks and Costas and Neros aplenty, a good sprinkling of McDonalds and Burger Kings, and even a Debenhams and BHS cafe. But not many really....scrumptious places. Happily I remembered a place called Bookleaf Cafe (or perhaps it is Bookleaves?) just outside of the town centre. So we buttoned up our coats and set off.

Really a more delightful place to spend a grey January afternoon you cannot imagine. It is a second hand and rare bookshop and tea room all at once. The room is just lined with books which are grouped in subject, but all piled up in the best manner. We ordered a cafetiere of coffee to share, and a sandwich each. When it came, we were exclaiming over it so much (in delight!) that the poor waitress thought there was something wrong with it! There was the sandwich, and then a salad that looked so beautiful with red onion, and slices of orange on the side, and a little glass dish of home made dressing. When we decided to go ahead and have dessert, we were each brought out our own little individual warm apple and almond pie, with a jug of cream, and a piece of green apple all sliced up and fanned out at the side.

There was no music playing which was so nice, just the restful hubub of teacups clinking and people talking. We sat for ages eating and drinking and chatting, and looking over each others shoulders at the books! Of course we could not leave without choosing a book to bring home. Mum chose a little vintage paperback of household hints, and I took home a hardback from the 50's called 'Mirror Mirror on the Wall: An Invitation To Beauty' which looks just lovely.

We went on to visit Dad, who looked so much better, and was quite perky in himself. Now that he is eating properly his skin is better, and he seems stronger in himself. It was much easier visiting with someone else. Unfortunatley Dad is quite paranoid at the moment, and what is not helping is that there is another man keep going through his things and moving them or taking them. Of course he is ill himself and does not realise what he is doing properly, but it really upsets Dad. Still, he has been to an art therapy session which attended off of his own back which is good. I think he will be there for a while which is sad, but also good because it means they can help him get better. It is odd how quickly going to the hospital, washing your hands in alcohol gel and buzzing to be let out of the locked ward becomes normal!

Thank you to all of you for your support and good wishes. It really does help, and you are so kind.

Oh, and before I go, a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the lovey Vintage Pretty!

And a very happy Friday to all of you. I hope you spend the evening eating delicious food with people you love, and have the same warm cozy feeling I have tonight. I really feel like knitting or crafting...just making something really. The kettle is boiling for a cup of rose scented tea, and just now, I have a lovely feeling of contentment. I wish that for all of you too.

3 comments:

Sue McGettigan said...

Wishing you a good year, from one tea lover to another. Hope your Dad is feeling better soon - perhaps the staff can switch out room-mates for him since it's exacerbating his current symptoms? I work in a locked facility, the charge nurse usually makes these changes when family requests it.

Anita said...

I loved your gleaning button day quote... :)

The tea room/book shop sound like a wonderful place... I have always wanted to own a place like that...

I'm so glad you had such a day, and that your Dad is better... I have kept you all in my prayers...

Anonymous said...

My dear Mimi, I am so glad that you and your mother are finding bits of peace and contentment in the New Year. It has to be a great relief to your Mother to know that your father is safe and well cared for. I'm sure you are a great comfort to her.
Have a lovely week!
Nita in South Carolina