Saturday, September 17, 2011
I'm having trouble winding up this post, restlessly tweaking words. I just wish if we ever do meet again in a crowded room that somehow we manage to have a private moment to ourselves, if it's only to go out together in frigid early morning, before anyone else is up, an hour when in that house you can hear the clocks ticking, and you know how to disable the alarm, and we slip out the back, bundled up in our winter coats and simply stroll together and enjoy each other's presence and maybe nothing happens we barely even touch except for hands brushing now & then, as if accidentally, or you hold a door open for me and touch my back to invite me to pass through. We return to the house and someone else has been up and started coffee - or perhaps it was us - yes it was, we stand there in the dusk kitchen listening to the coffeemaker burble & drip - no, actually we're spared those noises because we were organized to set it going before we set off for our walk - because as it turned out - the milk in the fridge was off - had curdled! And so we were back from an errand whose fresh wax-carton result would gladden all the adults and coming-up progeny who detest taking their coffee black.
Many many kisses, darling.
image: William Morris (1834-1896), detail of the Woodpecker tapestry, 1885, William Morris Gallery at Water House, Walthamstow, London (full-image & interesting writeup about the tapestry, here)