The other day, I wandered into my back garden, and, feeling a tad overwhelmed by love of mother and never-ending mounting responsibility I slipped off my shoes, raised both my face and arms to the sun and talked to and drunk in William Blake's God.
Blake believed the reason we can't look directly at our star is because it is the face of the Almighty.
Well, I dunno if Billy Boys right or not. All I know is it felt good off loading my fears to the hot ball.
I went out today with a dashing Hairy Suit.
Dolled up or what?
He looked like he was getting married.
I on the other hand looked single and more Boho.
Voluminous red flowered frock, mushroom coloured shoes, black leather jacket and blue nail polish.
We went shopping in Rayleigh. Mostly charity shops. As we're both great tea drinkers and lovers of olde time stuff we stopped for refreshment in Coles, a vintage style tea shoppe. Just orf the High Street.
And as 1940's Big Band tunes made our toes tap we both drunk in a little togetherness.
Being out without mum is unheard of, but she has been unusually shattered this week so has taken to her bed.
So Hairy and myself paraded along the street enjoying a little stupid time.
Putting bowls on our heads and larking around with courgettes.
Then home, via McDonalds to pick up a little meat treat for Mother!
The good Lord moves in mysterious ways. Just when I think all is lost I have a morning out in the sunshine loving and appreciating everything.
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