It don't take much

I give thanks for the twinkly twilight zone of after acupuncture. It was Rachel's turn to provide tea and as she'd been too busy to cook she turned up with treats far less worthy and wholesome than usual - lush pizza, bagged salad... and, as she'd been in the bargain zone, filo for my freezer and panacotta for dessert. I'd never had panacotta and, just as I'd always suspected, never was far too long! And as she'd never had advocaat I initiated her tastebuds in return with a sip or two...

I was extremely grateful for all of the above, as well you might imagine, but perhaps most of all in a few days of feeling unusually cherished and nurtured, for her presenting me with a pretty basket of hyacinths announcing 'Happy Mother's Day! There's nothing to say you should only give things to your own mother...'

So what with all the niceness and needles, and thimbles full of alcohol soothing me, I gave thanks for falling asleep smoothly later on. I give thanks for getting some good rest for a few hours before the nasties started with such a vengeance, I put the light on and logged in to book a morning telcon to discuss trying a drug that's been known to help in similar cases and isn't contra-indicated in mine, apart from my natural disinclination to medicate.

I give thanks for listening to the birds and roads wake up and catching patches of zzzzs before the call. For (for once!) being pleased my kitchen window overlooks the recycling bins as I could see by the lengths a neighbour was going through to make his cardboard fit that there was no point in taking any more down to try.

I give thanks for the therapy of an hour or so going about my business in this superbly friendly and relaxed place. For the walking about part not being too uncomfortable either, though I did groan a bit when I realised I'd mistimed my visit to the pharmacy and would have to find something for me and my bags of shopping to do while the chap had his lunch, before going home for my own. Heavy clouds were gathering and a chill wind getting up, but by the time I'd been to my favourite takeaway tea place (of the many in the vicinity) and remembered a lemon roulade from our little patisserie had made its way into my bag earlier, the sun had come out again, and the wind dropped.

I gave thanks for a chat with the lady who served me about how we both are very easily moved to tears and the capacity for intense delight that seems to be the flipside...though that can also result in crying from happiness. Apparently we're both particularly susceptible to rainbows so I said maybe it's a kind of rainbow syndrome, as our personalities are caught between bright sunniness and downpours of tears...and she said 'Yeah and never finding the end!'

I give thanks for the stunning contrast of light picking out the grassy fields above red cliffs and white dotted lines of caravans in the distance set against the shades of grey...

For a little more oomph when I got home to grab cold pizza and rest before getting on with chores. For the bare branches, evergreens and bright budded ones seen from my window...and the sea, of course, waving at me...