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A day of rest
I had a day off today, a day free from diy. Went early to Sainsbury's to stock up for the week and stood outside waiting for the store to open. A crowd of shoppers gathered ready with their trolleys, some clutching their lists. Most of these I noticed were written on the back of envelopes. Some held the whole envelope, others, like me, had cut off the front. There could be a research project there for someone.
The morning was sunny so I had to go for a walk; the weather was too good to resist. Footpaths were less boggy than usual so I arrived home with less mud on my boots. In one wood men were clearing pine and birch trees to make way for a heath. The area looked better already as sunshine could reach the ground. There was a lovely smell of wood smoke (my favourite smell; frying bacon and glue come next) and a huge pile of shredded wood. A small dog appeared and yapped at me but I ignored it and it went away.
I stopped on the side of a hill overlooking woodland to adjust one of my boots and to admire the view. It was spectacular; I could see for miles. The area is one of outstanding natural beauty and rightly so.
My next stop was at a church to read the parish newsletter in the porch. An elderly woman arrived to clean the church. She unlocked the door and asked if I'd like to look inside. I took up her offer and we had a chat.
As I passed the house with a meadow that is crossed by the footpath, the owner was outside by his car. We recognise each other now because I often pass that way. We had a chat, about the weather, unsurprisingly, and exchanged tips about killing ground elder. He said he covers the leaves in hole-free plastic bags, sprays the leaves thus avoiding neighbouring plants, and leaves the bags in place so the weedkiller remains on the leaves and isn't washed off by rain. I shall try that.
Quote for today
Your manuscript is both good and original; but the part that is good is not original, and the part that is original is not good.
Dr Samuel Johnson, British critic, poet and lexicographer, to an anonymous writer
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To date 1 Comment(s)
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featheredenergy
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(2.3.07 20:17)
My smell of choice is tar, closely followed by petrol and fried onions.
Your day sounds idyllic.
I like it when the passing strangers become familiar faces and then exchanging pleasantries becomes the next natural step. Fresh friendships being created out of routine.
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