Friday, 16 July 2010

An ordinary Friday

Posted by Tania Kindersley.

I call up my mother for a logistical conversation, but somehow we end up talking about a drunken Irish playwright who used to chase her round the upstairs corridors of a white house in Wicklow in the 1960s.

'The green soup, Mum,' I say sternly, to get the conversation back on track.

'Hold on,' she says. 'I'm writing it down.'

'You don't need to write it down,' I say. 'It's so easy, I can just tell you, and you can keep it in your head.'

'Yes,' she says. 'The only thing is, there really isn't any head, any more.'

I know what she means. There are times when I actually have no information about what day of the week it is, and have to look it up on the internet. Not that long ago, I spent an hour searching for my wallet, to find that it was in the fridge. (The most idiotic thing was that I ended up congratulating myself on having the genius idea of even looking in the fridge.)

I did work. I walked the dogs. I did recycling. I went to the butcher and bought a fillet of Aberdeen Angus on an entirely unjustifiable whim (the expense) and laughed at his jokes. I took my mother watercress, leeks, garlic and chillies for the soup, and a cheesecake for a treat. I failed to get to the post office, but there is always tomorrow.

In other words, it was a good, ordinary day. There is a lot of craziness out there in the world, so I don't turn my nose up at an ordinary day.

Talking of ordinary things, here are some, which even in their very ordinariness, still carry a certain beauty:


A fallen pine cone.


Wild grass, out in the meadow.


Clouds and treetops.


The last of the fading chive flowers.


Lemons, from the day I was making lemonade.


Excuse me, how did those two get in there? They are not ordinary at all.


A green leaf.


The lichen on my dry stone wall. You know I can never get enough lichen.


The wild corner of my garden, where I pretty much let things grow as they will. I put in some ferns and ivy and vincas, and the rest is left to nature.




A rowan leaf.


The sun is making a half-hearted attempt at shining. I think I shall go outside and look at it.

Have a very happy Friday, wherever you are.


  1. There really isn't any head any more - is the funniest thing I've read in a long time. And, it could only have come from a head with a lot still in it!

  2. You see i'm thinking is it funny that there is no head any more, because this morning when my daughter asked me to tie her school tie i couldn't remember how to do it, and i tie this freaking tie every damn morning so i am wondering if this is early onset or just one too many of middle class mums glasses of wine from the night before...........

  3. lovely pictures. I haven't had a head for a while. But I have had the presence of mind to respond to your lovely award before the idea of doing it sidles away (see for details). I always remember something by Douglas Adams (probably Hitchhiker) which said that one's brain could only ever accommodate 6 thoughts - the minute a new one came in, one was shoved out, never to be recovered.
    WV is ablemp which feels oxymoronic

  4. Wallet in the fridge is priceless. If I find the coffee in the fridge, I know my husband will have put the milk in the cupboard. The best one was when he put the cheese, in its tupperware box, in the (otherwise empty) dishwasher. When I pointed this out, he said he was probably heading for the white cupboard in the kitchen and got the wrong one.

  5. This post is particularly lovely. And I am in love with your dogs. They are truly two of the most beautiful dogs I have ever seen photos of.

  6. Its funny about the head! and thanks for the photographs. I didnt know that chives had flowers and such pretty ones at that.


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