Guilty Pleasures

An attention grabbing headline if ever there was but in this instance there is no leaning towards the hedonistic interpretation thereof. Instead, a mild deviation from the norm, a slight kink in the road which brought as much selfish enjoyment as any libertine derives from a session of sybaritic indulgence. My run-of-the-mill work day chimes from about 7.30am to 6pm, most of which is spent rooted in front of my computer, utilising some form of “modern” communication.

The weather gods set the tone for yesterday, blustery, grey and overcast with persistent rainy squalls. There was a clear message from the heavens that the only place to be was enveloped in the cuddliness of home. Fate was in cahoots and it was with great pleasure that I observed the back of my bureaucrat disappearing down the stair en route to some “all day gathering of like-minded idle chasers”. By 4pm (my official finishing time – hah!) the left-shouldered red devil, after an intense and philosophical battle with the white version on the right (she of virtuous intent), won the day and it was with a most ludicrous sensation of “breaking the rules” that I gathered up my worldly goods and headed out.

I crept home (can you “creep” in a red jammy of ancient lineage and double-box noisy exhaust? – I gave it my best shot) and slid indoors doing my most worthy impression of uriah heep. Choices, choices  – a veritable flower garden of options and decisions over what delightfulness with which to while away two precious hours of “me time”. Paramount was the choice of attire and without a second thought for decorum, or fashion for that matter, I was transfomed into the bit part actor “Bag Lady” – baggy tracksuit pants, voluminous sweatshirt in a bright purple hue and New Yorks socks – buttercup yellow with a taxi patterns 😉 DH’s worst nightmare 😀

There was a momentary relapse with thoughts of grout scrubbing and floor mopping but these traitorous intruders were soon overwhelmed with an army of eat, drink and be merry warriors. Accompanied by a whipped cream fleece blanket, three chapters of my Karen Rose book, a decadent hot chocolate and the most luscious avo that ever dropped into the world from some far flung tree (only slightly tweaked with a twist of sea salt) I ignored the intrusive blue message light blinking on my cell, the impatient squawking from a squadron of hungry garden birds waiting for their feeders to be replenished and the creaking, tottering pile of folded washing glaring balefully at my prone form. One hundred and twentyish golden minutes later my “heaven on earth” came to an abrupt end when the “white one” reasserted her dominance and I remembered to my horror that culinary servitude was required to manufacture a batch of cupcakes as a donation for the girl child of one of my dearest friends who is raising funds for some scholastic venture.

It was good while it lasted.

“There is no such thing as pure pleasure; some anxiety always goes with it.”  ~Ovid, Metamorphoses

You know you’re getting old when …

The first thought engendered by sunshine and blue skies is not “Playtime” but “thanks goodness – an opportunity to wash linen and towels”. Ensconced at my hair guru on Saturday (sadly not as progressive as dear Halfy– nary a drop of champagne in sight 😦 we were chatting about this and that when one of the silver surfers excitedly piped up about how she wished she was “young” again and could spend her weekends having a “knees up

at the beach”  her words not mine 😉

She was horrified when the younger crowd – all 40 something to be honest – glibly informed her that we would be slaving over a “hot” washing machine and ironing board – not a glad rag or a high heel to be seen! I was going to proudly announce that housework is a lot easier with these guys on the stereo (a mop does make a fine air guitar)

and an ice cold bottle of pink bubbles to crown the post-chore celebration party but erred on the side of caution, perhaps information overload – I mean my reputation.

Walking on Sunshine

In a general rambly sort of way – the suns sort of out,

 (view from my office window)

Hooray, everything is taking on a distinct tinge of green after weeks of non-stop rain. No veging about mind you – opportunities abound for washing linen and towels and letting them dry their silky selves in the fresh air, I mean the glorious indulgence of sun dried goodies is just as fabulous as a weekend in the mountains under a big open sky with the latest must read and a bottle of pink bubbles – well it is, isn’t it? That said, it would be most useful if the rays would last until I get home from work – are you listening up there washing wookie?

My heart is a little sad today – a really good friend is in a really bad marriage (not physically or financially but mental abuse is just as destructive) with a weak, manipulative, selfish little man, her only light is three fabulous children.

She phoned me today,

she wanted to talk,

I wanted to tell her to get out,

I didn’t,

I listened,

I supported,

She felt better,

For how long?

“Aerodynamically the bumblebee shouldn’t be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn’t know that so it goes on flying anyway.  ~Mary Kay Ash”