two hundred and seven



I love a good cup of hot tea. Its comforting. It feels like home. It stills me as it warms me. It is such a simple pleasure that I don’t always ponder. And that I definitely take for granted. Tonight I am grateful for a cup of tea, for the realisation of how therapeutic it actually is. And becauseĀ it means it’s nearly bedtime.


thirty one

Today I was relieved to hear my dad had had a successful prostrate op. Third time lucky. And a good night in ICU. I am so grateful to him for looking after his health and fitness all these years. I wish I could be there. I wish I could hug him. But spending a quiet moment, having a flat white with him, on a bench on his favourite river, was the best I could do. So I am grateful for the memory of him here, because it felt like he was right there with me.