Poop And Slow Progress And Yule Is Done
1/1/22 Saturday Last night just before midnight, Mr & I strolled down the dark lane, wine glasses in hand; spotted constellations, watched distant fireworks. This morning Dog had done several splats of foulness on the living room carpet. HNY! Also this morning: In bed, chinking coffee cups, we say- what will this year bring? We hope it’s a track and a toilet shed. On the way to work, I stop for a walk at Carlyon Bay. Far from frosts, a warmish wind blows, the sea is a stirred milky blue, the air damp. At work, I eat chocolate and mince pies and a bag of spinach. 2/1/22 Sunday 5am: Dog does dusty poop in the kitchen. Mr rises and mops. 7am: Dog arrives in our bedroom, she’s not sure why. I rise, briefly, relocating my snooze to the recliner chair while she settles on the sofa. 8am: coffee in bed, reading gardening books. Not looking at the clock: walk before work, around the lanes in the unseasonably warm grey fuzzy air. No snowdrops to be seen, only the plucky wild strawberries t