Re-homed

Yesterday was a day of gloom and backache and headache and cleaning. The gloom was mainly over the book, or rather its rapid advance towards not merely being unpublished but unpublishable.

At 2.30 it changed. Not, I fear, the status of the book, but my attitude to the day. I had been told earlier that my afternoon customer intended binning a comfortable-looking arm chair – and as I was preparing for the builder who never came, I had taken no steps to providing myself with that utter necessity for quiet winter evenings, and happy lazy Saturday mornings, the comfortable arm chair. The chair had failed to make that sad last journey several weeks in a row, and yesterday I plucked up my courage and asked for it. Within moments the request being made the chair (admittedly suffering a bit from the claws of the customer’s companion animals, but that is the hazard in my home too) was safely in the back of my little van/car and I was rejoicing.

I often fail to live in the moment, but yesterday afternoon the (probably) failed gamble of 15 years of work faded into the background, and the absolute certainty of a really comfortable chair stepped forward. A gamble is a gamble, you have to be prepared to lose. Something comfortable to sit in, is a present and achievable reality. Yea for a nice chair, re-homed!

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