An Ordinary Day

When I think I have nothing interesting to write about I sift through my day and look for a moment - something significant/inspiring/beautiful/insightful to start me off - to unblock the drain of my critical thoughts. Usually it's really late at night and I'm tired and I can't remember why I'm doing this  - like now....trying to make the ordinary extraordinary....and can't get beyond the details of my day which in themselves are totally insignificant.....

Like our young man cleaner coming this morning and shining the tiles in the bathroom and hoovering up the dust balls under the bed.....and how I love the feeling of the house being clean..... but I can't really justify the cost of having a cleaner.....

Like sitting with my husband in the darkened room of the opticians at Boots who talks about glaucoma  and 20/20 vision and I act as  translator.... and I tell him about my husband's uncle's macular degeneration ....and even though my husband  sees a Z on the chart he reads it as an F he still has better than average vision ( with his glasses on) and he doesn't need new ones which is a great relief....

When my husband asks what's for supper I say, I have no idea but  I'll wake you up at half past seven and we'll have it then.

 And with the sun lighting up the kitchen  - showing up all the smudges everywhere, as the cleaner didn't get to the cabinets - I open the fridge and start concocting......entering my safest haven with a knife and chopping board and a cauldron of confidence .....which appears nowhere else in my life.

For the record -  supper is fresh cod fillets baked with a little lemon and olive oil, roasted sweet potatoes in their skins, wedges of bright orange Crown Prince squash, a very garlicky tomato sauce laced with finely chopped spinach and pungent coriander and the steamed frilly leaves of purple Russian kale.

We eat it at the kitchen table with the sun bouncing off the white plates at the end of an ordinary day.