A Strange Meditation

We both agreed that today provided a strange meditation, because we did the breakfast thing, the computer thing and then spent a few hours in the garden, together and happy, yet distinctly apart.

Then we went for a pint.

While Karen did all her bits, I mowed a bit, removed grass a bit, weeded a bit and then, a task that I had contemplated for a week, assaulted the shed, sorted it out and and made it my own. This is what happens when you move house, you gain rooms, and those initially, are someone else's rooms. Then, over a period of months, you make those rooms your own, and today, the shed changed it's ownership.

As I was scrubbing the floor, washing it with a bucket of water and a stiff brush, I was transformed in my mind, way back in time, to when I was three or four years old, when my mum was "cleaning the flags" with a brush and a hose pipe in the back yard at our house in Botanic Road, Liverpool. In the distance, bringing me back to the present, a neighbour was playing "Give a Little Bit" by Supertramp, adding yet another layer of memories from the seventies.

It was a strange, complex, and most magical meditation.

It was happy, happy work.