Missing

Presumed lost.

An us. Our we.

Not found any more.

And lost feels better than just

Thrown away.

Cats and maps.

The warmth and weight of a cat on a lap

As I study a map of the counties across the UK and select colours to identify those where…

Well what, exactly? I decide to select those I have spent at least a night in.

But the cat’s ear brushes the edge of my texting hand

Her purrs and her paw movements require my attention.

And my memory is better for town names rather than counties anyways.

But why are people NOT selecting blue for the outline area (which is sea, or course!)?

The weight of the cat comforts me, and her warmth through the blanket transfers to my thighs and the purring is fading as she drifts to sleep, with only a single grumbling mew as my texting hand temporarily roused her.

I can’t resist stroking the top of her head again, and once more the grumble-mew, with purring – mixed messages.

Her claws temporarily extend then retract, and her pattern of breathing slows, and lulls me to the edge of sleep too

Lifes’ lessons

Examining older scars

To reassure myself

Of the wounds I’ve survived

Even thrived from

Post periods of healing

And that time is

Well: Spent.

As we learn even more about

Who we were. Who we are.

Who we could yet turn out to be.

New bedding

I have bought new bedding.

It is beautiful. Sleek to the touch. A crisp white traced with a delicate jaquard of intricate leaves.

Oxford pillow cases, with a similar trim edging the duvet cover. A zip! Who knew! It wasn’t on sale; and was probably the first time I paid full price for a set since the blue and white one below. I just saw it on display in the shop, and liked it so much that when they didn’t have it in stock, and I was still thinking about it a week later, I finally wrestled my way through a rare-for-me online purchase, with so many hiccups and freezes that on any other day I’d have interpreted as indicating I’m not supposed to have it.

I ordered it yesterday on the second time of looking at it online (holding my breath with every stuck field of my ordering page as it was showing as low stock – less than 10 left!) And collected it today. I put it on my bed this afternoon, replacing the blue and white duvet cover and cases I bought for my first double bed away at university.

That has been an old faithful, and remained my favourite, through the subsequent years, however many new sets I bought when THAT was my thing for the very long time when I found no enjoyment in clothes shopping.

And now finally it’s wearing a little thin – I noticed when I laundered it the last but one time around – but amazingly seems to have hardly faded over the decades; and always makes me happy when I put it on the bed.

For a while there I thought there was a special reason it had stayed looking so new. Like… it was supposed to be seen by someone?

Learning

To breathe again

On my own

Without you

Without the thought of you

And me

The us was not to be.

It makes me gasp

And gulp for air as

If a blast had used up

All the oxygen

The ensuing vacuum is waiting

Still to be filled:

Against nature’s wishes.

Late August is not yet Autumn

The seasons are changing.

This morning the air is fresh, not humid, for the first time in weeks.

The sunlight this week has had that 22 carat golden hue that is much more late September than the end of August.

The hedgerows are heavy with some of the largest blackberries I’ve seen in years. Apparently it’s the wet summer that helps with that.

I’ll go collecting and hopefully find enough to freeze some so in the dark depths of the coming winter, on a particular short dark cold day, I can pull them out and evoke once more the past summer’s sun.

The stocks I bought and stuck in a grow bag full of compost without much nurturing other than some splashes of water have also produced some impressively huge fruit, swollen and heavy with promise of the sweetsharp juice within.

With the ripened apples from the tree behind the greenhouse, both of which I inherited when I moved here in the dying weeks of the last difficult year, I intend to make crumble to share with friends, and maybe pies too.

All things change, and evolve, and seasons come and seasons go.

The long hot heady days we think will never end really do have all too short a lease.

And I have prepared for the coming cold. I have bee wellies that arrived this morning: deep almost but not quite navy blue with metallic golden bees bussing around and a honey comb patterned lining. I can already feel the soft creaking under my feet from when I will inevitably go out to play in the first snows of the coming winter.

But: we still have Autumn yet to come.

Season of mists, and mellow fruitfulness. Wood smoke in the air from bonfires as gardeners clear the debris left from their plants’ growth efforts two seasons before.

Hearty soups, and baked potatoes. Our food choices change with the seasons.

Late crop, root crops. Tougher skins.

Different futures

I wish I knew

What went amiss,

Why me and you

So – lost the bliss

I thought we’d found.

So easily.

Without a peep!

And how the we

We were is ground

Into the past

But now

At last

I know:

That us

Is no more

Who you and me

Once used to be

Now face

The exit door.

Changes

Cut hair

Buy clothes

Be fitter

Get thinner

It’s not

Too late

To be

A winner

Just need

To change

My ways

So days

Spent waiting

Are time

Remaking

The who

And the what

As me now

Is the not

What they want

If I

Say less

Weigh less

Thought less

Could I

Then learn

Who I

Should be

So someone

Somewhere

Might

Choose

Me

?

Realisation

A different story

A different plan

A different life

A different man

A different dream

Was not to be

The future holds

Not you, for me.

Birthday presents

Much love – of the kind that just thoughts of it will keep you warm on the coldest of nights

Laughter – so hard, til your sides ache, and you gasp for the breath you need, to exist and to laugh some more.

Kisses – the lightest and deepest that feather soft almost drown you and drink you replenish you make your head spin as your toes extend

Wishes – for happy and healthy and long life and good wife – the same too for her and for them and for theirs and your friends who surround you around you adventures abounding astounding no cares and no worry

It couldn’t be us. For that I am sorry.