I wait for the arrival of Paul's sons. Lovely lads. A creamy lemon chicken dish cooked to go with rice, if they don't want it, into the freezer for next weekend visitors. I forget that Japanese type meals do not figure cream, well then salmon sandwiches next choice. I will introduce them to their father's cupboards of neatly boxed stuff, much of which I do not wish to open because the stuff will require decisions.
The weather temperature on my phone is 7 degrees, it is cold. Out in the garden two goldfinch rest on the lawn after stuffing themselves with dandelion seeds. A squirrel chews peanuts contentedly on the wall, I throw them a handful out every now and then. They are experiencing their 'hungry period' through summer.
At one stage I was going to write about Once Upon a Time in Iraq, but its sadness got the better of me. I watched the whole five episodes but it is past understanding and I bet those who said they would watch, did not, for it uncovers a world so different from ours that we must flee to our own Western culture of bright inane lights and frippery. Yes I know about the virus, but the virus can never reflect the absolute cruelty of men, calmly putting bullets into lines of men, or the unspeakable butchery of chopping off hands.
There was flashes of bright light though, the young Iraq boy of five years old, shattered down the left hand side of his body was sent to America for surgery, a grown teenager now he is reflective about life.
Gosh I hate waiting................
They are gone, no hugs yet but lots of talk and they have worked out things to go into storage. Sprinkling of dust went with laughter, as we imagined Paul joining in, my so meticulous lovely soul mate, would have been happy to see his boys in the house that he loved. Perhaps he was even sitting on the bench drinking a beer in the shadows which we could not see.
The boys went round touching things excitedly they had known from childhood, recognising familiar things. A lot will be kept but many of the books will need to go to a museum because they are rare. Next visit will be in a van for storing stuff in London.
So pleased it all went off well - and yes Thelma he would be with you inspirit if nothing else. I do agree about Once upon a time in Iraq - I started to watch it but it became too awful to bear. Man's inhumanity to man is unspeakable You don't say whether Paul's boys ate the dish you prepared.
ReplyDeleteNo it was sandwiches, we talked a lot and then they spent time in the study wrapping some of the Japanese ceramic stuff, 'A' who works in galleries finding the stuff that adorns nearly every surface and remembering it, the little dragon bottle opener was the first to go ;)
DeleteI am sure that Paul was there in spirit, and his sons were so happy to see family things again with such a close association to their father.
ReplyDeleteI could not watch a programme like the ones on Iraq. Such things haunt me when I am low.
I suppose I believe in understanding such terrible things but of course it is impossible, hate becomes the driving force. The little dragon I just mentioned to Pat was only one of many as they remembered their childhood and things bought. It was sweet.
DeleteI did not go back once my parents had decided to sell our huge Surrey house, but I now go back in my dreams all the time.
ReplyDeleteA time lost of course, regret that the magic of being happy cannot go on. Childhood is a distant country we visit in our dreams.
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