I don’t have to teach until 12:05.
I’m having a semi-productive morning but, most importantly, have time to do things calmly.
I walked to the post office to post my screenplay to a competition. The air is fresh today after yesterday’s rains, there is sun amid clouds. In the alleyway by the car-park, nettles are flourishing, pink flowers are erupting from the stone wall. There are bluebells, cow parsley.
It is good to recognise the woman behind the counter at the post office. Keynsham isn’t the most exciting town to live in, but there is something anchoring in having familiar faces around. She knew me too, and smiled at the envelope
It was £15 to post recorded delivery, £10.15 to post unrecorded. I had £10.20 on me.
As I went home, an elderly man walked towards me, leaning on a shopping trolley/walker. We caught eyes, smiled, exchanged good mornings, and smiled again. I felt a little joy well up. Simple things. The wind was gentle and pools of blue sky passed overhead.
I got home, made coffee and looked at the drawing my son had done yesterday
The bottom row is a series of caves going underground. Each one, apparently, has an air-lock.
I had time to email his teacher to thank her for teaching him to write. I only see him fortnightly, each time I notice an improvement in his letters.
Time to iron a shirt and get going.