Finding My Words

Home Comforts

I am curled up in the comfortable shabby depths of my sofa as I write todays blog entry.  The log fire casting it's cosy warmth around the lamp lit room, cats huddled in a furry embrace on the easy chair enjoying sleep in the way only cats can.


I'm alone in the house tonight, the others out for another gig by my husbands band.  There is wine chilling in the fridge but tonight I am too tired to enjoy the cool dry liquid in the way it deserves.  It will keep.





This morning was dark, damp with a bone chilling blanket of dense vaporous fog.  A long drive lay ahead of me to help a friend as she begins her new journey into the world of retail, I knew I had to surface from the duvet depths of comfort and the lasting web of sleep that veiled my eyes, oh but for another ten minutes.


The lashing of the shower rinsed the last vestiges of rest from me, forcing me into the land of wakefulness, wrapped into fresh clean sunshine smelling clothes, hot strong coffee, a cup of promised energy and out the door.  The cold hit as if stepping into a freezer, my breathe visible before me as I dashed to the car to warm the engine and begin the fog laden journey across the moors.





The shop lay in darkness when I pull into the only free space, although voices inside belie the closed exterior.  Electricians, no lights, no heating. Wallpapering in the dark is a new skill to learn, but I have only today to finish so on I go.  I close my ears to the swearing and the raucous laughter, singing in my head to some half remembered song as I hang the lengths of glue sodden paper, matching pattern to pattern, pushing air bubbles to the edge of the sheet with a splutter of trapped paste. 


The time passes quickly and the walls are almost complete, one bare naked strip of wall remains until the new rolls arrives to cover it's modesty.


Time to go home, back into the muted misty outdoors as I turned my little car towards the lonely road home and the welcoming smile of my front door.