.JPG)
Yesterday was one of those wonderful days where Nature seems to have pulled all stops to create perfection, like one of those haughty self centred young artists who throw their completed masterpiece at the feet of their uncomprehending audience proclaiming, ‘this is my heart’s blood, take it or leave it, see if I care, you geekoid masses!
Usually Nature does this on a weekday, when everyone is shut up in their offices and can’t go out to appreciate the effort that has gone into creating the perfect day, and then Nature goes into a huff and it rains for ten days. But this time it was a Saturday, so I rose to the challenge!
Every Friday evening I resolve to become a better person and adopt virtuous habits. I promise myself that I will stay at home on Saturdays and do the dusting and hovering and laundry, and not leave everything to the last minute on Sunday night. And every Saturday I get up, take one look at the sluts-wool in the corners and the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink and the overflowing laundry basket, and instead of getting stuck in and shifting the grime I avert my eyes and skip away.
But yesterday morning I had an excuse! How could I possibly be expected to clean the house on a beautiful day like this? It would be a sin and a shame and cry to Heaven for vengeance! When it comes to avoiding housework I have many excuses. Well, I figure, as long as it gets done eventually, like in the evenings when it is too dark to see the dirt properly so I miss half the accumulations, who cares? I don’t think God wants me to waste my life cleaning the house. He wants me to be outside and play and be happy! That’s what I think. A happy heart is more important than a clean house.
So as I was saying, yesterday morning I skipped from the house at an early hour, having found the perfect excuse: My Mushroom scarf needed an airing! I am very fond of my mushroom scarf, it is the first quality scarf I bought, many decades ago when I was a poor student. I never wore it, because I was so frightened I would damage it. Instead I took it out of its box occasionally and admired it in a reverend attitude. Finally I spotted another one on Ebay, and since I now have a spare I actually wear it sometimes.
I had a very special reason, too, for wearing it – it was a perfect colour match for my newly finished waistcoat! The photo does not really capture the colour of the waistcoat very well, so you just have to take my word for it. Both scarf and waistcoat are a beautiful rich grass green, the sort of green one mainly sees in spring, the green of young beech leaves. Simply gorgeous! Of course pedants might argue that mushrooms are more of an autumn phenomenon, but I am not a pedant, and anyway the scarf is art and art knows no boundaries.
So I folded my scarf such that it displayed the nicest mushrooms to best advantage and took it for a walk. We walked up the Hill in the cool morning mist, beneath a blue sky and a strengthening sun. The birds were singing, flowers bloomed everywhere, and everyone I met was in a good mood. Half way up the Hill I found a penny!
After half an hour I directed my steps to Café Noir, to partake of a light breakfast and their free newspapers, but alas, they were closed because of some electric problems. I speculated that they had forgotten to pay their electricity bill and went on to another café, which supplied me with an acceptable breakfast but no free papers, so I had to buy one myself – duh!
Then I hit the charity shops, there are half a dozen up the Hill and I searched them all with a fine tooth comb. I am at heart a hunter & gatherer, I hunt for bargains and gather freebies. On this occasion I found a lilac cardigan which should come in handy during the summer and a cat by Perry Lancaster, he who made the Cat & Mouse statue that lives on my mantelpiece. This was a real bargain at £2.99 – the Cat & Mouse one retails for £90! Anyway, I thought the cat could keep an eye on the Green Mamba, it is quite a sturdy looking fellow.
Then I walked home again, offloaded my treasures and took another look at the cleaning situation. Pricked by my conscience I cleaned the kitchen, but after that I got restless again and went to town to discuss The Perfect Handbag with my long-suffering handbag guru in the Covered Market. I only allow The Bridge bags into my house, and even those have to meet tight specifications. My handbag guru maintains that The Bridge bags are of a better quality than most designer bags, and they are of course much cheaper and look better and don’t scream ‘Look at me I can afford a designer bag!’ all over town.
I am not a fan of designer labels. I do wear some, but I try to use them such that no one can see the labels. I don’t want some idiot mugger thinking to himself, Hey look at this woman wearing a designer scarf, I bet she is loaded! and try to steal my handbag. An intelligent mugger would think, Hey look at this woman wearing a designer scarf, I bet she is broke! which would be much nearer the mark. Least of all do I want a fellow scarfie try and steal the scarf!
Having concluded for the umpteenth time that my current assortment of four bags – one small for evening events (strap only), one middling for long walks (strap only), one middling for elegant city breaks (strap & handles), one large for work and inelegant city breaks (strap & handles) – were Perfection Profundis, I walked up a different hill to visit Z. Z had houseguests and needed a break, so we went for a long walk along the river and gossiped. Then I walked back home, decided I was too fagged for any more housework, having walked for about five hours that day, and barricaded myself in the Nostalgia Studio.
Once settled down I decided to watch a nice movie. I am currently watching several movies, all in French with French subtitles, still trying to force French into my stubborn brain cells while knitting waistcoats. Anyway, the movie had barely started when I noticed – Shock! Horror!! – that the newly acquired feline was eyeing not the Green Mamba as instructed but the Tiny Visitors who were just then resting on the Clocktower! Well, the tower is high and the cat is heavy – made of Goncalo Alves wood – so I figure the Tiny Visitors are quite safe, but it is a little disconcerting all the same!
