500 followers today! I couldn't resist taking a moment to thank you all and write a little something too. Thanks guys! Your support means the world to me.
We're in the last throes of house-building. I'll post some photos as soon as things start to take shape inside. I (as the least skilled of all the team), am honoured with the task of gofer - running here and there to fetch the bits and pieces that are needed to finish the house.
I greeted Finn at the school gates with the proposal that we drive half an hour to pick up some bolts and then half an hour back to deliver them to site. His eyes rolled up, shoulders slumped and a huge sigh escaped loudly as he trudged behind me to the car. I tensed myself for a sullen journey.
Soon we were speeding along the coast road in the golden winter afternoon light. The long, grey, pebbly shore on one side and on the other, fields stretched out into the creamy distance. Finn grumbled (in a fingernails on black-board tone) about all the things he wanted to do after school at home and how it just wasn't fair, while I tried to encourage him to make the best of a bad lot - live in the moment, enjoy just being, maybe?
I set my jaw a little firmer and focussed on the road ahead, hoping that it would be over soon.
In a box at Finn's feet was the last of Nick's birthday brownies - studded with espresso chocolate chunks and gooey with muscovado and almond. I drew his attention to the box and enjoyed the shriek of delight when Finn realised that this journey might not be so bad after all.
On the ipod we had a podcast of our favourite radio show - Adam and Joe. Finn ate the brownie as slowly as possible - saving all the chunks till last. Face painted with amber sunlight, he looked completely serene as he savoured the brownie, the radio, the view, the journey.
500 feet below us all along Chesil beach, the sea shone like a piece of old mirror. As the sky bloomed with the apricot melba colours of early sunset, we chuckled and listened, letting the scenery smooth our brows into contentment.
In barely a blink, we were suddenly there, pocketing the bolts and turning the wheel home for Bridport. The light had faded fast whilst we shopped and now the sky was a riot of orange and red - the deeper blue, blanket of evening, creeping ever closer to the horizon. Black silhouettes of trees crowded at the side of the road, jostling each other with their spindly twig fingers, huddled up against the oncoming night.
Each turn of the road revealed a new sight to be marveled at - a streak of orange across the sea, a field of sheep - all turned towards the setting sun, marmalade faced, trance like, bewitched by day passing into night.
Ahead, all the little towns along the coast twinkled their fairy light warning to passing ships and hungry travelers. A double decker bus with steamy lighted windows rose up from a blind dip, like an apartment block on wheels, all eyes turned towards the sea, papers unread, phones unheeded.
We swung into our road and Finn turned to me with a look of deep relaxation in his countenance.
'That was the best journey ever! Lets do that again some time, ok?' he said, and skipped into the new house to hand over the bolts and regale Nick with something Adam or Joe had said.
Me, I was simply glad to be reminded that there is always something unexpected and joyful out there - if you just let it happen.
x x x