Good Morning, Dear Readers, Good Morning!
And what, you may well ask, is yours truly doing abroad at such a ridiculously early hour on a Saturday after a long and - as witnessed by regular readers of this blog - somewhat similarly defined week, horologically speaking . . . well, my dear true and trusted friends and allies, read on and all, eventually, shall be revealed . . .
After last nights posting I climbed aboard the last train to darksville in the hope of a swift and welcome return to the arms of Morpheus wherein I could dream sweetly of each and every one of you with the innocence of which such dreams are imbued . . . however, it was not to be! Raucous Folk, with scant regard for the shut-eye of you or I, thought it a particularly good wheeze to spend the wee smalls being big loud . . . and even now, as I write before six and a half of the clock are gone, people are slamming doors; most unneighbourly and the primary reason why, some seven and a half years after first taking up residence in the BPS ~ that's Bijou Penthouse Suite, of course ~ I feel it is time for myself and The Famous Sally Dog to pack our few belongings in our spotted handkerchiefs and seek repose in pastures new . . .
I am, as you may be aware, someone who chooses to spend time in thought, meditation and reflection; a state that flourishes best in tranquility and serenity as I'm sure you will agree. Sadly however, over the years, these are commodities that, like the habitat of the Orangutan ~ the natural rain forests on the islands of Sumatra and Borneo, 98 percent of which could be gone by 2022 ~ are disappearing rapidly . . . and though I try to have love for my fellow man and speak with the tongues of men and of angels, my charity is becoming worn thin with the sounding brass and clanging cymbals who surround me . . . it is an exhausting and losing battle . . . there are, dear friends, just too many of them and not enough of me!
And so I find myself, silverback that I am, in a last ditch attempt to squeeze the pips of of pleasure from the day, up before the sun, generally, to begin my day with peace and to share this blessed state with you . . . I shall, however, let you sleep and maybe somehow and by a process of mental osmosis, influence your dreams that you may wake with smiles and love . . . I am reminded of the lovely Phyllis Diller who used to remark that the only way to wake up with a smile on your face was to go to bed with a coat-hanger in your mouth! I am not quite as cynical as that . . . not yet!
And so what will the day bring? As you know this weekend I will be sullying my normally pristine footprint with a smattering of hydro-carbons as I am popping off to see the lovely folk at Enterprise who are furnishing me with a car . . . once I have grasped the reins once again I shall be taking out the Old Duchess for a tootle around and about - I may even take my camera in order to allow you to share the day vicariously via the photographic medium, or large at least, in my case . . .
A rare early morning sun is bouncing off the adobe towers opposite; their heliographing windows sending messages of hope for us despairers beyond the village boundaries . . . in my room the reflected light is really quite beautiful - not quite a balcony over looking the Grand Canal in the Venetian dawn; neither has it transformed my work-a-day Dell into a lusciously skimpy powerbook or slinky iMac but it is a rosebud to be gathered and appreciated for it's improbable beauty and probable brevity.
And with that image fixed firmly in my noodle I shall away and to my business; may your day be blessed and your memory filled with other days when, as Clarissa says:
" I remember one morning getting up at dawn. There was such a sense of possibility. You know, that feeling. And I, I remember thinking to myself: So this is the beginning of happiness, this is where it starts. And of course there will always be more...never occurred to me it wasn't the beginning. It was happiness. It was the moment, right then."
I also think of people of who would have loved the fragile peace but found it trickled so easily through their fingers . . . Virginia wrote:
"I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier 'til this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been. . . You cannot find peace by avoiding life, Leonard; To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face and to know it for what it is. At last to know it, to love it for what it is, and then, to put it away. Leonard, always the years between us, always the years. Always the love. Always the hours."
Have a lovely day
'til next time
Be Seeing You!