26 March 2012

why I like mondays


Monday morning airing

There was a time, not so long ago, when the thought of Monday morning made me feel glum.  It's probably the same mindset that has made nostalgia filled Sunday night viewing so successful.  A winding down after trying to fill all sorts into a busy weekend - shopping, walking, cycling, gardening, visiting, cooking, baking, washing.  Now I see every Monday as a fresh start - a quick clean, the recycling out, washing on the line, get the week going.  And this Monday, with the sun shining outside and the cool March morning air blowing through the bedrooms and kitchen, is most welcome for it has been busy couple of weeks with some good, bad and ugly.  For a start, having the car written off by some lads haring round our street corner far too fast has been a complete pain in the arse, largely because of the negotiation of bureacracy rather than subsequent need to cycle or take the train - more of this perhaps another day.  Then there has been defence of the realm, my little realm, arguing against planning permission for a neighbour's somewhat invasive extension.  Perhaps I have become so used to a quiet life that this decided disquiet has had me completely strung out a second time round.

Southbank Calendulas

There have, of course been good days, very good days: a mother's day lunch: jolly times with the WI in London and Cambridge; seeing my young cousin's clever and funny first play performed at a pucker theatre; volunteer teaching finger-knitting at the Knitting and Stitching show - this is a good way not to spend money, by the way, as you are too worn out to make any purchasing decisions; a first-of-the-year railway ride to the seaside; offering a B&B stop for friends and family; my last upholstery class of the term; using my wheat and poppy speckled carpet yarn bag around town; a meeting at the Southbank roof garden on a sunny day to talk about a garden project - it's not going ahead in after all, but what a fab place to meet; finally doing a bit of sowing and planting and rewarding ourselves with some rapid home-made scones.

Scones for tea
It may have been quiet in this space, but a hundred thoughts have been flying about in my head.

More tales to come.  Meanwhile,  enjoy the sunshine.




6 comments:

Jane Housham said...

Oh, very bad luck about your car -- and the planning stress too. I'd hate that. But so much good stuff too. Thanks so much for clicking my blog up to my dreamed-of 50 followers! The giveaway will be announced shortly...

60 going on 16 said...

It's yin and yang, isn't it? An absolute pain about the car and the inconsiderate neighbours, balanced against all the rather wonderful things.

Like you, I find that Mondays, now that I am no longer shackled to other people's working weeks, seem to have an entirely new energy to them. My work no longer fills a specific period; it's much more fluid - no days off in March but a blissfully empty diary (apart from Easter visitors) for April.

Anonymous said...

When we had newly moved to Stratford we had a similar experience with our car. A group of youngsters drove too fast down our road and hit our parked twenty year old, very heavy, Saab with such force that it was forced on to the pavement at right angles to the road. Fortunately no-one in the offending car was hurt and our car went up with such a bang (on a quiet Saturday evening) that we met all the neighbours really quickly! The real pain was that the insurance value was so low that we could only afford to replace it with something much less well made. And the palaver with getting someone to move the wrecked vehicle off the pavement so that people didn't have to walk into the road to get along our street was something else.

Glad to hear your still finger knitting. Marcella is too - it's a great thing in that its not so fiddly that children easily get frustrated by it.

Best wishes,


Joan

Harriet Hat Peg said...

I love reading your blog - it gives me a sense of perspective. Our neighbours have 10 dogs and because the weather has been so nice lately, leave them out in the garden all day. My husband is off work poorly at the moment and is driven barking mad by the er barking. I want to say something to them but we've lived next door to each other well over 10 years now and have never had any trouble, therefore feel reluctant to say anything.

Annie said...

Calendulas and scones for tea ... it could be June!

Commiserations re. the bad bits, the good bits sound, well, good.

Here's wishing you a sun filled week x

Liz said...

I don't miss the back to work after the 'blink and it's gone weekend' blues, either. Shame about the car and the proposed build. I've been trying to ride life's inevitable blips (such as losing everything, including the stuff I'm currently working on, stored on the laptop and nothing backed up) with a "well, nobody died" approach. It sort of works (at least I managed not to cry which has to be a first!).