A February Friday

I'm writing this at the kitchen table. The sky has only just darkened

 beyond the glass doors and the undrawn curtains.

I see these daffodils  - double headed -  and  orange centred narcissi, dumped rather than arranged, in a tall glass vase on the table. They need greenery but I didn't have time to cut anything from the garden this morning before the estate agent arrived.

I hear the oven extractor humming over the pan of simmering brown rice on the hob. The central heating has just clicked in and there's the other faint hum of the de-humidifier in the hall.

I smell the comforting earthy aroma of the rice, the almost meaty one of almonds and cashews roasting in the oven and the nail varnishy perfume of the narcissi.

I taste the residue of a couple of raw almonds in my mouth that I snaffled before I put them in the oven.

I feel the cold coming up from the kitchen floor telling me I need to put more socks on.

This morning a dear friend comes to collect Robin and drives him away to visit her mother in a nursing home.

The nice young enthusiastic estate agent says the house ticks all the 'sell as seen' boxes and we don't need to do anything except paint over the stained patch on the wall in Robin's office where the damp came in from the roof last year.  He says the market is good, for young families. Our area is protected from any more multiple occupancy conversions and it's worth more than I expected. We aren't selling it yet - just getting figures for my mythical future.

After he leaves, lovely PA arrives and we talk about what she can do for both of us. She's so nice I want to cry with relief at the thought of her helping with Robin and helping me with the house and my chaos  - even for a few hours a week.

After soup and toast and blue cheese salad lunch, and after Robin's sleep, we drive over to Crediton to have tea with a dear friend who was also a client of Robin's in the early days. She tells the story of arriving at Robin's office the first time and he said to her,

" What you need is a cup of tea." 

Which is exactly what she did need.

 When he gave her a big hug as she was leaving, she was sold, and he was her financial advisor till the end when he couldn't be any more. She says she still misses him and especially his hugs.

 I'm losing the internet connection now and have to go back upstairs to my study.

This is the view now from my big snuggle chair - my  food photos on wrap-around canvas - I love them. 

And the one above my desk takes me instantly back to Armenia when we stayed with Robin's cousin and his family, and where we watched some wonderful women bake Lavash, their paper thin flat breads. And then especially for us they made this sweet simple tart, Gata ,straight from the oven in the ground- I can taste it still. 

I can hear Robin waking up now and will make a start on supper.....something with rice and almonds and spinach ....I'll concoct it as I go along - trusting the luscious ingredients to give me inspiration....I'm thinking Chinese now...ginger chilli garlic soy. Just another February Friday.