Steve is home too late for us to dine together tonight.  So I decided to treat myself to tempura battered fish and chips from The Horse, our local.


I started reading The Danish Girl by David Ebershoff on the bus home this evening and carried on through my solo dinner.  Happy, happy, happiness is being just a couple of chapters in to a great new book. I want to read it fast and slow all at the same time. I already don’t want it to end, but can’t wait to see how the tale will unfold . . . . .


And then I looked out of the kitchen window to see chimneys, rooftops and end of winter trees silhouetted against the clear and cold Western sky.  Other warm, lamp lit windows with people going about their evening.


Lately, I’ve been feeling restless, on the cusp of a new horizon, like I am beside myself and don’t know quite who this new person is who I am becoming.  I treasure times like these when I am full and satisfied and happy to be right where I am.


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