Monday, November 22, 2010

NaBloPoMo 22 - Curl

I sat and curled my hair today. Curled away the cares and fears. The "I'm not sure what to says". The sad memories. The ends.

I stood and made stew today. Chopped the pork, the apples, the carrots. The parsnips. The potatos the herbs.

Between curls and wholewheat dumplings things brightened up.

The best part of today, was dancing around the living room with Tom, cracking up into fits of giggles and laughing.

 

For these things I am grateful.

 

Did you know friends are like angels? You don't have to see them to know they are there.

Which friends stand beside you like angels in the night?

 

The Alex in London who sends me culture, recipes, history and laughter. Hours and hours of laughter.

 

The Amey of my youth, travelling the world for me, having adventures for me, picking right up where ever we left off without skipping a beat.

 

The Fran in Scotland, of two meetings, of friendship passed down my mother's line, with laughter like the sound of rain on leaves and exciting letters in magical shapes.

 

The Mel, off in the North, who is dance, is joy, is blue, is sitting down with tea, setting the world to rights.

 

The Tim of playing the Hobbit in the playground, the long dark nights, the talking, the poetry, the music.

 

The Nicola, of bare months, of words, of please, of letters dripping with with questions, and yes and joy, and fairies in purses.

 

The George, the Sarah, the Holly, the Jo, the knitting and beer, and laughter and food, and haircuts and painting nails and singing.

 

The Dave, the Matt, of bad jokes, and drinking and debating, and dressing up.

 

The Rachel of dancing days, and learning to be who you are, who told me to dance as if no one is watching.

 

The Fran of sparkling dresses and singing covers of pop songs and being there no matter what.

 

The John, of port, and building bridges, and lets look at this hole they're digging in a river, and singing so loud so true, and just sitting in my living room, not saying anything much, just being there when I was so poorly.

 

The Ruth and James and childers who open their home, and fill bellies with tasty goodies, and make pretty things and tell good jokes.fled to

 

The Simon off to pastures new, who challenges, and provokes and cares, who makes people laugh and do things they never thought they good.

 

The Charley in the shiny happy flat, of good shoes, and good wine, and absolute eloquence.

 

For these I am grateful.

 

(For all those near by, I love you too. It's just today is about people far from the home of the heart.)

 

 

 

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