A Little Bit of Me

Jottings and Writing, miscellanous misgivings

Mid Winter Blues

380199793_836323351d_mI awoke several times in the night. Sleeping alone does that to me. That and not being able to write. The thrill has gone or the enthusiasm to sit down and put things down on the blank page.

I listened intently. Could I not hear the sounds of small creatures snuffling around outside? Or was the sound coming from closer. Maybe someone sliding in commando fashion down the hall – ready to leap up and plunge their serrated knife deep into my virginal body. No! It was definitely coming from further afield. Maybe the back yard or even. Then it struck me. Rubbish day tomorrow and the weeks cleansacs were under the eave of the verandah. Probably a possum or a cat trying to get into them. Unless I got out there the possibility of stinking rubbish being strewn from front door to gate would be inevitable. I jumped out of bed and crossed to the front door and gingerly opened it. I don’t quite know why I was being so tentative. A large black labrador was head down in the second of three bags. Rubbish was everywhere and he seemed oblivious to me as I shouted my disgust at his abhorrent behaviour. Although he shrunk away with perhaps his hunger disturbed I was left with the legacy of cleaning up the mess and I tossed and turned for most of the night imagining the smells and the feel.

Morning came and my dignity was further hurt as inn the act of rebagging the incredibly horrible mess the parcel tape took a spin down the front path-out the gate-down the road and then disappeared over the bank. The week was not starting well.

To breakfast and more grief. I rarely eat breakfast but this morning I think I will try some freshly toasted white bread with liberal lashings of cholesterol inducing butter and some organic raspberry jam smeared an inch thick over the top. I carefully toast the bread and the miracle of freshly toasted bread wafts through the kitchen as the coffee , freshly perked, adds its own unique scent to the mix. I carefully apply butter and jam and place the four perfect pieces on a plate and then, to my horror, on the journey from bench to seat they slide off and land perfectly, upside down, on the tiled floor. It continues . The top of the toothpaste rolls off and ends upside down in the drainhole of the sink where large clumsy fingers struggle to dislodge it. The toilet paper has run out and the towels are all wet. I can’t find one of the cats and I waste quarter of an hour to find it sitting in the garden cunningly disguised as a plant, waiting for a bird to fall out of the sky into its upturned mouth.


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