April 29, 2016

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But then messaged to say he’d been too shy to say something else.

Saturday was nice with him, an afternoon at Starbucks’ bar table, chairs too high for me to touch the floor from, massive windows overlooking the street. I, swinging legs, drew on paper napkins and watched cars go by. He was stressed, studying for a big flight on Monday (which he passed), but I was quite alive to the old yellow stoned buildings, clear sky, big tuffy clouds. When I’m happy, I remember in sepia. My breaths are slower there. 

If happiness has its own air, it must be denser than oxygen, forcing us to breathe deeper, more fully, more intensely. Afternoons like Saturday have been few, my collection of sepia photographs scant. Peace has its own scent, a liquid coloring. Synesthesia makes music see colours, but I declare myself the first to feel a coloured smell. My nose prefers it there.

Tomorrow, I will drive to the post office, ostensibly to purchase stamps (and I will), but more pressingly to commande mon freshlymade chocolatine. And stock up on substantial munchies for the odd hour. Living under most roofs has had its restraints. But time glides on anyway.

Just complaining

April 15, 2016

That the apartment person didn’t turn up for the appointment citing traffic and because I am cross and uncharitable I am inclined to think excuse. Then I bought a chocolatine to cheer myself up but got distracted by the idea of going back home via train, finished chocolatine without tasting it and that added to my vexation. Then, xyz dog I’m looking after for a week started making weird sounds from the boot which got me madder because millions of dogs travel around via boots and his muddy paws had already dirtied my car seats and did he think letting out upset sounds was going to win his cause? No.

Now it’s raining and I can’t go for a walk to make me feel better. Plus, everybody is confined on Saturday and whoever decided on confinement needs to be smacked for punishing me as well.

Lesson learnt, xth time

April 13, 2016

1. Be understanding when the husband is too tired or stressed to talk at night, or inform as such.

2. There are lines which, when crossed, hurt. Do not go there.

3. Go to sleep. He loves you. Even if he didn’t call tonight. He does, really. Tell the anxious doubting whisper to take 5. Or 10. Preferably 1 000 000. You can check with him tomorrow.


Action step: list down (read: spam) the crazy thoughts which insist they’re true  so he gets an idea why and hope he’ll understand.

1. Sitting on the train, watching golden light bathe yellow fields of flowers, stone châteaus, grass-lined lanes; hand over eyes over sun.

2. Sitting by myself in a restaurant, twilight falling, gentle music in the background, lamp glowing warm in front.

3. Weeding for hours, examining plants, pretending to be an archeologist, digging and thinking about roots, earthworms. Cleaning the pool, trying to be Zen, failing.

4. Old memories returning to the fore.