Togetherness

A marriage made in heaven - beautiful Xmas present jug vase and divine arrangement of Mother's Day blooms. I threw out some aging daffs and did the switch. Perfect.

It's a nasty day today, exactly what you don't want when you're hitting Town and quite keen not to add an umbrella to your baggage. As usual I found that the morning dragged as I waited for the hours to move to Train Hour, a wasted chunk of time which I filled with trivial chores. It's always the same when I have something planned for later in the day: I can't concentrate on anything and pither and pother around uselessly. The rain has been incessant since last night with no sign of a let-up before tomorrow. There was much gazing through windows - first onto the front garden, then the back, and around to the front again. Admittedly I spend a fair bit of time when I can't go outside staring out of the window, and anyone passing by might see me and think I looked sad, lonely. But I'm not! My gazing is a rich, nourishing experience as I ponder on what I see, and how I plan to change things. I've always done this, especially when I worked from home and stood up to stretch from time to time. The one house I lived in which didn't have vertically-opening windows nearly killed me.

Last night I fiddled around on YouTube for a while before bed, watching musical performances and comparing voices. I heard Veronique Rapin, naturally, and then the little boy treble from King's College who so entranced me, young Tom Pickard, singing Pie Jesu from Faure's Requiem. His voice is lovely, pure and innocent, but the most lovely boy soprano ever was Aled Jones, and I watched and listened to him sing this same piece with the amazement. He's in another leage with his rich, vibrant sound that would be more at home coming from a woman, you would think. He really was incredible. I floated off to bed. I do seem to spend a lot of time on Cloud 9 for a suicidal depressive. Joke.