Week 42 in the year of pleasure
And a 60:1 pleasure to pain ratio
A selection of the pleasure
Clean air and soft water
I was in the Lake District for a few days this week where the air is clean and the water soft.
Meaning soft skin and hair.
Meaning no soap scum. I love it that there’s no soap scum. And clear water in your tea too.
Oh I miss soft water. I hadn’t noticed how much I missed it till I had it again.
Miss it enough to move back to Scotland she asks herself. Hmmm.
Or install a water softener. Ah now that’s a possibility.
And clean air.
What a treat that is. Air that feels like it’s doing you good.
To take great big lung fulls with no compromise of muck with your air.
The day after we got back we went into London.
Get home and blow your nose and there it is. Black muck. Ugh. You’d think I was a miner with that much muck.
Stars and colours
Even though it was November there was still so much autumn colour on the trees and then the mountains with their bright green grass and rusty bracken by its side and the cutting through of the blue/grey slate screed.
And the big surprise. SNOW.
It makes me want to do something with textiles.
Maybe knit, or collage or design a new tweed and make a skirt.
I love the colours for themselves and then I want to have them about me at home. I may yet make something for the wall.
And we had a really clear night when we could see all the stars. No light pollution. Oh goodness me, WHAT a sky there is up there to be seen when there’s no light pollution. Wonderful.
Whisky and stargazing on the balcony. Mmmm hmmmm.
Pesto soup and veggie restaurant
There was a serious amount of what my gentlemanfriend called ‘four star fawning’, so much more deference than I care for.
“Can I pour you some tea Mrs Esson”, “We hope you’ll enjoy your day Mrs Esson” and so on…..
I didn’t know that sort of forelock tugging still went on.
And food arranged and served in a somewhat contrived manner. I knew that went on.
Squiggles of jus….that kind of thing.
It was lovely to find good doses of normal human interaction and really great food served without excess embellishment.
Especially the pesto soup in Windermere.
And the veggie restaurant in somewhere also beginning with a W, and where they could easily make a recommendation because they eat this stuff too, unlike the four star fawners who I now suspect have to live underground when off duty and eat gruel.
I only had a toasted cheese sandwich in the veggie restaurant but it tasted so good. The bread really tasted of something and the cheese too and it was served with a salad bursting with flavour, beetroot and apple and I think, celery, cut really finely.
Not a squiggle of jus in sight.
Mess and disturbed sleep
I’m on the weary to very weary continuum, closer to very weary.
I would love a long, right through the night sleep, undisturbed by snoring.
I’d also love spaces I’ve cleared to stay clear long enough for me to do what I planned with them.
Like walk across the room without tripping over shoes and bags that I just moved out of the way and how did they get back there!
A mess, a mess, a mess she howls, losing her grip entirely and feeling the urge to clear them with rather more dramatic sweep of the arm and grimace on face than she did the first time she tidied them out of the way.
It won’t be long now.
All being well, the 1st December and my own space will open its arms and welcome me in.
And remind me not to travel again without my own room. (My own tidy, no trip hazards room).
The pain I did something about
Temporary. It’s a temporary in between place.
80% energy in explaining for less than 20% return in tidying in the short term.
That’s my estimate. Not worth the energy.
Not long now.
The Pleasure Posse
Pleasure tweets on twitter this week using the #itsapleasure hash tag
How about you?
How’s your week been? Your pleasure and pain?
The comments await. You’re most welcome.