From The Second Floor, A Mattress Is Gleefully Pushed



Sunday: Stumped by the internet, a repetition of which we are quite bored. Metaphorically, head meets wall. Head meets wall again. Head aches. Wall remains incommunicative.
Sunshine bakes our wearied faces as we shift more loads to the tip. Each fling and release of bin sack, broken box, bit of unmendable thing into the regrettable landfill, each ditch of a reusable item to the recyclable container, takes some stress with it. On the home journey, wind the car windows down, watch Dog’s ears cavort in the air current. At home, eat pudding outside. Home-grown raspberries. Fat trunked ash tree reaches into the blue. Sparrows fetch their fledglings supper.
Monday: The internet we do not speak of. The heat is mentioned. The car is loaded, unloaded, grime builds an underlayer, a slime between skin and cotton, it smells like earthy hard work. These are the last days of toil; this is mentioned.
Tuesday: Charging up for a sprint finish. When I was a child we seemed to move house every weekend: I loved it, the sense of momentum, the discoveries of new quirks to opening doors. A pinch of this remains. From the second floor, a mattress is gleefully pushed. These flingings are fun. But in such a day of heated grit, the germs of fatigue multiply swiftly. I am struck down by an illness of humour. The cure, however, is simple- after coffee on the lawn, me and Dog park up at Widemouth South, hurdle from the car, shoes and sense abandoned, cavort fully clothed into the froth and frisk of an incoming tide. 


Comments

  1. Suze24 July 2012 at 23:44

    For some reason the deep, rich, earthen lyricism of this post made me want to cry.

    You are an amazing wordsmith and a truly spectacular human being.

    ReplyDelete
  2. YONKS25 July 2012 at 17:12

    Phew, I agree with Suze.

    Thanks for visiting my snowflake post the other day, just catching up now. I loved your comment.
    When someone gives you lemons, make lemonade. Or, when a truck runs over your surfboard, use it as a sled - I love it!!!!
    Di
    x

    ReplyDelete
  3. Teresa Cypher25 July 2012 at 20:33

    This is beautiful, Lily! Widemouth South? You live near the ocean? I'm glad that your moving journey is about done. And I wish you many pleasant days exploring, finding new places that touch your heart, awaken your mind, and speak to your soul.

    Home-grown raspberries...and life is good. :-)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Lisa Southard26 July 2012 at 10:58

    For more gorgeous & touching comments, my humblest thanks :-) And yes, I do live about 40 minutes drive from the coast. Widemouth (Wid-muth) is a huge wild North Cornish beach, the south end of which is dog friendly all year, the north end has a dog curfew from March - September. So no-one can feel too sorry for me- I have wild waves to jump in and Dog can come too!

    ReplyDelete

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