Some simple happy things from last week. Joining in with Gillian. I am late. I seem to be late a lot lately.
- Open window
- Sea glass
- These guys
- Flowers from the garden
It's all I can do to stop having all the windows open twenty four seven. It's one of the first things I do in the morning. I love opening up the house to the fresh air. I like to think that as it's coming off the sea, it's cleaner somehow. I don't know if that's actually fact, but it does feel lovely having a gentle breeze waft through the house. The curtains billowing just add to it for me.
This is my little sea glass collection so far this year. I mostly collect it when I'm at the harbour. The other beaches in St Ives don't seem to have much washed ashore. Or maybe I'm not looking properly. It's mostly green and white. There's the odd brown and bright blue piece. It's a very absorbing pastime.
I think I've always taken for granted what a tight knit group my little family* is. That's not to say we don't have our fair share of woe. We bickering and fight. I can be moody and snap at the littlest thing. The boys can test may patience to the limit. Marc sometimes gets on my nerves (as I do his, I have no doubt of that). We aren't The Walton's by any stretch of the imagination. But we are close, and that is a source of real happiness.
I love being able to bring flowers in from the garden. I've been saving any nicely shaped glass jars and bottles for this purpose. I will move my flowers around the house as it suits. I'll put them in the kitchen as I potter and do. They will sit on my bedside table this evening as I read. A portable happy.
*The picture is missing Sam. He is stretching his boundaries away from us and the home, which is as it should be. I know that. He would rather be with friends and his girl(s) than with us. It could be another happy of mine, because I'm thrilled that his life is getting bigger. But it's rather bittersweet, I'm afraid. My eldest is definitely growing up and away from us. I think I'm being very brave about it actually (sniff).