TagJohn

Four beautiful things from the weekend

Saturday:

1. We walk further into West Wood that we’ve done before and come across high cliffs of rock with dangling ivy floating in the breeze; a dead tree snapped in half; a precarious overhang.

2. The garage at the end of the road (which, strangely, sells some of the best samosas I’ve ever eaten) has installed a slushie machine – two flavours: raspberry and strawberry. I text John to tell him and he replies: “we’ll look back on this as our diabetic summer.”

Sunday:

3. We sit on the balcony in the sun, waiting. I don’t hear the doorbell but the dog does and we all race to welcome John home.

4. There isn’t quite enough room but I join them on the sofa anyway and watch the film from underneath his arm.

3BT – maybe one day they won’t all be about animals…

1. We hug and feel paws stretching out against our waists, the hound trying to join in.

2. We go into the hills to the south, following the tributaries leading from our beck. One stream opens out into a quagmire and John stomps up it, the proud owner of wellies for the first time in nearly two decades. Lily – who is now allowed off lead in the woods and runs at top speed EVERYWHERE – creates muddy waves as she bounds back towards from her distant travels and we take that as cue to return to dry land.

3. Bums touch as they curl up next to me on the sofa.

4. The dog likes on her back, feet twitching in dreams, as the intruder (John) enters the house. She wakes – finally – when he calls her (“Crap guard dog! Crap guard dog, where are you?”) and runs at him, ball in mouth, ready to play.

Six Beautiful Things from the weekend

1. “This wood will keep you warm next winter,” I tell Carla as she watches me pull thick branches from the giant pile and stack them on the dormant flower bed. Further down the garden, John is building a platform where the wood will season while I’m sorting it from the twigs (which will be chipped and used under our chicken run) and the ivy (which had been strangling the tree and will now be composted). The garden is so much lighter without the sycamore’s shadow.

2. The giggles and screams as John tricks people on ChatRoulette.

3. The worst thing about World of Warcraft is all the travelling about so I like it when I have a string of quests to complete on the way. I loop through the Hinterlands with perfect efficiency and level up twice when I cash in all the completed tasks at Revantusk Village. The game’s combination of micro tasks and multiple possible paths is deeply rewarding and I wonder how I could organise projects in my real life to be as pleasurable.

4. I finish reading ‘All my friends are superheroes’ by Andrew Kaufman. I enjoy the physical book as much as the story – super smooth ivory pages and a lovely choice of font.

5. Another day sorting and stacking wood. It’s pleasing to sweep up the last of the sawdust when the giant pile has finally gone.

6. The sieved flour disappears into the liquid almost instantly, leaving behind just a ghostly trace.

3BT – Punguins, returned, perfect timing

1. We have Penguin biscuits with our tea and I deadpan the joke on the back to John. As usual, he tries to solve the puzzle with logic: “it’s always a pun to do with it being black and white… living in the Antarctic… not being able to fly… about its flippers or beak…” On this occasion, for the first time in a long time, he’s right.

(Best Penguin wrapper joke ever: “Why do seagulls fly over the sea? Because if they flew over the bay, they’d be bagels.”)

2. My pink & purple cowl, which went missing in December, is found. I wear it home to celebrate.

3. A comment I made on Twitter generates a text message, which in turn makes a cup of tea and a muffin magically arrive in my hand. It’s the 2010 equivalent of the replicators from Star Trek.

3BT – not a beautiful thing, stash, tails up

1. John chewing his food is not a beautiful thing. Especially when he is pointing at the half-chewed food in his open mouth and indicating that he and it are beautiful things. No, no.

2. I’ve unintentionally forgotten to visit two of my favourite web comics for a few weeks so have a stash of unread strips waiting for me today.

3. Tails in the air, they bounce single-file through the dining room door to welcome their dad home from the pub.

3BT – purring, suits you, changes, soup, window

1. Boron has inserted himself between us while we slept so when I wake up, he’s under the duvet, with his head resting on my pillow next to mine. We stay there for at least an hour until John wakes up and he purrs a deep, satisfied purr the whole time.

2. We decide to finally implement something we’ve been talking about for a couple of months – we go to the RSPCA to see about adopting a dog. We meet two boys who have lived with cats before and we’re encouraged to play with them and walk with them. As John walks away with the second dog, I tell the handler that I think John looks good with a dog at his side.

3. We head into Bradford city centre for lunch and some charity shopping. It’s been a while since we’ve been there on foot – certainly the first time since we moved to a BD postcode, but probably a couple of years before that even. On the way up to Oxfam, we notice that the nature of the city starts to change after Duke St: the big-name chains gives way to smaller, independent shops, and it feels like a first time visit to a small town instead of a familiar city.

4. The sound check runs late so we have to eat quickly – it’s a shame to gobble such lovely food. The soup starts out neat and orderly, all the additional ingredients in their own part of the bowl and enjoyed individually, but as I eat, it all gets mixed together and a fuller flavour is revealed.

5. Kev writes my name in the condensation on the window and as the evening proceeds, the letters streak until all that is left are vertical drip lines down the pane. Above, the red light turns the dull gold window frame into a surreal ruby.