Dear Diary, at last the rains are beginning to fall. Farmers are busy seeding and the dust that has filled the skies over the past days has disappeared. Rainy days are indoor days. And indoor days are designed for one of two things; either to sit and idle the hours away, or increase one's abilities to exist in this modern world. Today I fell between the joints.
Idle time can be time wasting, but sitting seeming comparatively idle, yet exercising the brain on a project, then surely one must complement the other? My project? Aha, Dear Diary, that is in the melting pot.
A little clue ... Harold and his apparently licentious behaviour!
I confess to a slight feeling of envy, jealousy even, but once the hurt that he inflicted upon my ego subsided, and my soul bruising paled to an almost unnoticed shade of the weakest blue, other emotions emerged. Emotions that initially threatened to upset my equilibrium, but after a moment rationalising the situation, gave way to the utmost relief. Harold is definitely not the type of man that I wish to have as an acquaintance. He is shallow, and I suspect still misses his mother. Why else, Dear Diary, does he find it absolutely essential to be on the friendliness terms with a woman? He needs to have someone to look after him? He feels that he is important when in the company of a woman ... for a moment I thought he desired to be seen in the company of a gracious lady, but ... after seeing the floozy he had on his arm yesterday, I doubt that very much.
Harold was easily dismissed from my thoughts as ideas for a super project swirled around the mind.
I am not sure if lavender; the colour and the plant, grow in importance in the domain of a lady of mature years, or whether lavender is latent, only coming to the fore when one has time on one's hands. Sitting quietly in my easy chair, the one whose cushion is comfortable, but becoming tatty in appearance, one idea overtook all other thoughts. Why not create a new cushion; something suitable for everyday sitting upon, but bright and cheery.
At that moment Niece knocked on my door. That girl must have second sight! Second sight is a gift that has re-appeared throughout the generations on my maternal side, and as Niece's Mother was my sister, then it is probably no co-incidence she is inclined that way. I bade her enter. Another moment of epiphany! For there in her hands she carried a bundle of fabrics. This was the moment the day was created for!
Together we sorted them into colours. Yellows I discarded; reds I put to the other side, greens ... mmm ... maybe. Blues varied from dark to light. As the bundle slowly subsided we were left with the most heavenly shades of purples and lavenders, and a beautiful clover pink with the tiniest of white flowers embossed. One of the pieces of lavender had a design of lace all over. Beautiful colours, wonderful fabrics, and a mind brimming with ideas. If as one person Niece and I picked up the chosen fabrics, hurried to the dining table, and together began the process of creating a cushion. Who cares about the rain? We don't Dear Diary, we are women with a mission.
Idle time can be time wasting, but sitting seeming comparatively idle, yet exercising the brain on a project, then surely one must complement the other? My project? Aha, Dear Diary, that is in the melting pot.
A little clue ... Harold and his apparently licentious behaviour!
I confess to a slight feeling of envy, jealousy even, but once the hurt that he inflicted upon my ego subsided, and my soul bruising paled to an almost unnoticed shade of the weakest blue, other emotions emerged. Emotions that initially threatened to upset my equilibrium, but after a moment rationalising the situation, gave way to the utmost relief. Harold is definitely not the type of man that I wish to have as an acquaintance. He is shallow, and I suspect still misses his mother. Why else, Dear Diary, does he find it absolutely essential to be on the friendliness terms with a woman? He needs to have someone to look after him? He feels that he is important when in the company of a woman ... for a moment I thought he desired to be seen in the company of a gracious lady, but ... after seeing the floozy he had on his arm yesterday, I doubt that very much.
Harold was easily dismissed from my thoughts as ideas for a super project swirled around the mind.
I am not sure if lavender; the colour and the plant, grow in importance in the domain of a lady of mature years, or whether lavender is latent, only coming to the fore when one has time on one's hands. Sitting quietly in my easy chair, the one whose cushion is comfortable, but becoming tatty in appearance, one idea overtook all other thoughts. Why not create a new cushion; something suitable for everyday sitting upon, but bright and cheery.
At that moment Niece knocked on my door. That girl must have second sight! Second sight is a gift that has re-appeared throughout the generations on my maternal side, and as Niece's Mother was my sister, then it is probably no co-incidence she is inclined that way. I bade her enter. Another moment of epiphany! For there in her hands she carried a bundle of fabrics. This was the moment the day was created for!
Together we sorted them into colours. Yellows I discarded; reds I put to the other side, greens ... mmm ... maybe. Blues varied from dark to light. As the bundle slowly subsided we were left with the most heavenly shades of purples and lavenders, and a beautiful clover pink with the tiniest of white flowers embossed. One of the pieces of lavender had a design of lace all over. Beautiful colours, wonderful fabrics, and a mind brimming with ideas. If as one person Niece and I picked up the chosen fabrics, hurried to the dining table, and together began the process of creating a cushion. Who cares about the rain? We don't Dear Diary, we are women with a mission.
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