* when they aren’t full of Much Love. And some Mondays, it might only be 70 minutes into a Monday, but unless you find the love, then that Monday might as well be spent in bed til at least Wednesday.
♥ Bob Geldof. Who wouldn’t? He might have had crazy-named children with a crazy woman, but I still ♥ him
♥ The new chicken ladies: Vera, Mavis, Rita and Betty. I ♥ that they’re so timid and I ♥ the sounds that they make. I ♥ it when chickens cluck and I ♥ their tiny eggs. I hope I can keep the foxes at bay.
♥ Mimosa in springtime
♥ Those friends you’ve just met that feel like they’ve been your friends forever
♥ The shortening nights and lengthening days
♥ Friends who care and who look after each other
♥ Knowing that there are 10 people in the world that you could call up and say ‘My World Is Falling To Pieces’ and they will come round with the glue or turn it into a fancy mosaic
♥ Seeing pictures of cute dogs
♥ the fact that most homes I visit in France have at least one dog. I love doggie homes. Plus, nobody minds if your home smells of dog, because theirs does too
♥ Seeing four cute little deer in a field today munching away on the grass.
♥ Seeing troupes of little wild boar crossing the road and knowing sometimes the big ones watch over the little ones. I like pack animals. They look after each other, even the very needy ones. And when a lone lion or fox or wolf closes in, they scare him off. But it’s sad that even predators need to eat. I wish we had a harmonious world with no natural selection and meat-eating. We could all live like rabbits or bonobos and eat berries and be happy.
♥ Having a warm living room and being warm when I go to sleep
♥ The fact that my Saturday client thought ‘How much is?’ sounds like ‘Ham and Cheese’. It does a bit.
♥ my clients where I take some dice, a board game, some verbs, some vocab and a fancy dress costume of an air hostess and that’s a lesson. How fab are those lessons?
♥ clients who welcome you into their life like a family member
♥ The sweetness of the Tilly Popper when she makes cute little noises when you pet her
♥ The lovely warm lump that is the Moll
♥ Mr Fox returning after another long 36 hour absence. The Tildapop and I missed him very much
♥ Getting emails from my mum
♥ Feeling like you’re doing a good job
♥ hot chocolate
♥ how French PMU bars have all kinds of weirdnesses in them, including ladies with drippy noses and Johnny Halliday shiny jackets
♥ Bruce Springsteen – nothing gets into my guts (except maybe Keith Caputo or a Followhill…) like him singing ‘rips the bones from your back… it’s a death trap… a suicide rap… you’ve got to get out while you’re young… ‘ – he gets inside my chest and starts playing around with my internal organs when he sings. It’s like he’s right in there squeezing my lungs a bit.
♥ that this song ^^ reminds me of my penpal Paul, who I wrote to from an old Sky magazine. He was my teen-year confidante. I hope he’s a novelist now. He was a wonderful penpal. I miss having penpals. I’ve still got boxes of his letters. My favourite is the one where he drew a townie, the precursor to the chav. And my second favourite was where he drew his thumb. We chatted about everything and nothing without the slightest hint of sexual tension. It’s always good for a girl to be able to see a boy’s mind as it is – uncomplicated by love. He liked Georgio Armani and Argyle socks. He sent me a piece of his bedroom carpet in his very first letter. I miss random friends like that.
♥ Those people you can just trust with anything – who never let you down, who have always got your back. I’m lucky I have a lot of these people in my life. Kisses to all of you and know that you can trust me as I trust you.
♥ Knowing that sanity is never far away… the most I’ve learned about moods is that they come and go.
♥ People who look after you and would never, ever do anything to hurt you because they just love the arse off you.
♥ Finding a perfect quote that just so says how you feel…
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
William Ernest Henley
♥ Leonard Cohen’s new album. He’s almost 80 for crying out loud. He’s my ultimate favourite vocalist ever. In fact, where Bruce gets inside your ribcage and jiggles with your bits, Mr Cohen gets inside my brain and strokes it with soft silk. Then he gives me a lovely glass of Bailey’s and tells me songs of loves lost
♥ when you teach a little girl to knit
♥ when in spite of the hailstones, you can find a sunbeam. Even if it’s only a little one. It whispers that its little brothers and sisters are on their way
♥ when you see connections you never saw before – where music, art and literature are all doing the same things all over the world and you realise the whole world felt the same right at that moment in time. Where Dosteovsky and Dickens and Hugo seem like interconnected fingers rather than separate novelists from separate times
♥ cauliflower cheese with a crust
♥ home-made brandy and onion gravy
♥ never being too old to stop cuddling a teddy if you feel like it even if the combined age of you and that teddy is 80. Yikes.
And finally… my Much Love project for the week…
And on that note, I am going to try and get some sleep. Dexter is perhaps not the most sleep-inducing of books, but what the hell.