Wonderful Wednesday (iii)

I’m joining in with Sally’s wonderfully uplifting project, Wonderful Wednesday, today. It’s been a funny and, at times, tricky week (and it’s only Wednesday!) so today – the fog lifting – there’s nothing I’d like more than to list the hap-hap-happy, as Sally says! Find out more about the project here.

Japanese anemones in bloom, exquisite, gauzy frills of china pink and white. They’ve strived and strived all spring, their thuggish leaves colonising a whole corner of the garden, so much so I wondered why anyone would plant them in the first place, but now – in full bloom – I can quite see the logic. 

The darker mornings – just a touch – so that, suddenly, I can all at once remember (and look forward to) the slow simmer of an autumn morning, horizon threaded with amber strands. 

Reading over the phone. My love left his book in my bag and he’d only 5% left of the third Elena Ferrante novel, so what better solution than to read together the last few chapters over the wires? I’d forgotten how much I love reading aloud. How much I love the Neopolitan novels. (Book recommendation right there! Run to your library!)

Mama’s mushroom omelettes. Total comfort food. (If you read my last post, you’ll know why!)

Lungfuls of cool air, straight after a storm. Waking to rain, being woken by rain, falling asleep to the calming melody of the rain. 

The first allotment runner beans, twice the length of my little foot (oops!), and so delicious straight from the ground I could eat them for breakfast.

Reading my father’s schoolbook from 1967, unearthed by my grandmother from the dusty reaches of their attic. It inspired endless laughter (“I watched a programme about milk” / “I do hope Mummy passes her driving test. I said to her you’ve got to pass your test” / “I had a wonderful dream”) and also thoughts of stories long before my birth, sudden depictions of my family’s life before my own – my grandfather rushing to night school after work, reading my father a story every evening, Christmas with his own grandparents (who I sadly never knew) and my the ongoing saga of my grandmother’s driving lessons. A wonderful insight into my family history.

The delicious, delicious thought of swimming on Hampstead Heath tomorrow, my treat after ten days in a London office (which have been more draining than I’d anticipated – I’ve got so used to working from home!). I’ll wear my swimsuit under my dress, slip it off in one fell swoop and jump off the jetty of the Ladies’ Pond. I’ll swim and swim and talk and talk until my hands turn to prunes, and then sit, with a friend, and a book, and a flask of tea, like a raisin in the sun. I can’t wait.