It's 3.30pm in Lønstrup, Denmark and all is calm and well. Everyone is napping, the cat on her favourite chair by the window upsatirs, Emil the dog, underneath the patio table, MB's Dad in his room, and MB, here next to me on the sun lounger, newspaper open wide and laid across his face, as i'm writing this.
Every day i discover more and more of the spirit of MB. I know now, that he's the kindof man who, without grimace or complaint, will turn and cycle back on the route we've just taken, as far as he needs to, to find my carelessly dropped £16 sunglasses and return with them, smiling.
He is my point of calm in any given disruption. He always knows the best course of action to take and coos and aaahs just enough to entitle me to my momentary indignation, without actually joining me in a pity party. He is a hero to small children and the gentle commander of animals. They lay still in his firm hold as he removes ticks from their irritated skin. He will gut fish after fish in the rain, barefoot and happy, he will stop to pick wildflowers to bring back home, because he knows they will only be there, growing, for that 2 week window.
And I have never seen a man look so good in wellies...
These days by the sea, he revels in cold ocean dips, in lieu of actual showers, and finally, when the soles of his feet are as grimy as a homeless person, i re-name him Stig(of the dump) and urge him to wash them, which he begrudgingly, half-assedly does.
Later, we will drink wine that we are only supposed to be having on special occasions, and eat more dairy than is allowed. I have become the tomorrow girl, when it comes to exercise, meditation, cleaning and dairy. Tomorrow, i will resume a non-dairy diet, because today it would be just wrong to not indulge in the thin slices of havarti, the homemade Haagen Dazs Chocolate, Pralines and Caramel ice cream and fresh banana milkshake, soft pungent blue cheese on illegal white bread, the cold salted butter sliding down boiled new potatoes that were only hours before, in the ground covered in Danish dirt. May as well sprinkle a bit of coarse grain salt on as well...Schnapps? Well, if it's a tradition.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, i will meditate and achieve a higher state of consciousness.(no pressure then)
Tomorrow, i will do the Tracey Anderson mat workout, all the way to the end this time.
Tomorrow, i will only eat fruit and veg and oily fish. Lots and lots of oily fish. I will actually open that tin of sardines and won't feel that sense of dread each time i see it looking at me accusingly from the kitchen counter.
Tomorrow, i will clean something. Anything.
OR.
I will eat CHEESE......
Reading and loving 'Where the God of Love hangs out' by Amy Bloom
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