Skip to main content

The Tea Fairy

Every night before I go to bed, I set out a tea mug with an Earl Grey tea bag in it, a cereal bowl, a large cereal spoon, mulivitamin jar and the cod liver oil jar.

I am usually quite comotose in the morning, so these small tasks make it easier to cope with waking up. I don't have to fiddle with the cupboards - I simply have to click on the kettle.

And so, in my morning state, I did what I do every morning. Go and turn the kettle on before I get in the shower. Then, when I get out of the shower, I can go and fill my mug and let the tea stew while I get dressed.

By the time I dressed, the tea is usually done and then I can remove the tea bag, add the milk - or the soya milk that I'm attempting to like but it is so difficult - and eat my cereal - which I don't really like but I know is good for me and therefore will eat.

But this morning, for some reason, I was too asleep and forgot to turn the kettle on. I was dressed before I even made it into the kitchen.

And so, I turned the kettle on. Left the kitchen to get my bag ready.

I came back to the kitchen to fill my tea mug when I realized that there was already tea in the mug. I had to stop.

Did I already do this? Was I so asleep this morning that I actually already made myself a cup of tea and totally forgot about it?

And then it hit me. He has been doing things like this lately for me.

Filling up my water glass that has lime and lemon that I like to keep in the fridge so that when I open the door, there it is. Full. Ready for me to drink.

Putting away my clothes on my side of the bed and making it because I am in too much of a rush - and usually still half asleep - in the morning to do so.

I have always joked with him that just because he doesn't drink tea (or coffee or pop or juice really - it's either water or beer) doesn't mean he couldn't make me a cup once in awhile. He would always laugh and tell me that that would never happen.

But this morning it did. Just because.

And there, in my sleepiness, I smiled and beamed.

Love makes you do things for no reason at all. I can't believe after almost a decade that I love him more then ever.

Comments

Anonymous said…
that's beautiful

-chlamygirl

Popular posts from this blog

I'm baaaack!

Hard to believe that last entry was almost three years ago!

Many moons ago, I set this blog up to chronicle our journeys. Once we were grounded a bit more, it kind of lost its way. I spent some time working on my writing offline, taking on different projects and working full time as a technical writer. It was difficult to keep this blog up. Not for any real reason I can articulate. Just had my words redirected to other avenues for awhile.
But, I'm pleased to say, after over a decade away, we are back in the UK, living and re-experiencing a place we enjoyed in the mid-2000s.
Social media has certainly changed the way we look at blogs. I'm excited to navigate this new world, explore just what people post, what people read. What's better on one of the many new platforms and what's still appropriate for good old fashioned blogosphere.
For now, here's a peek at where we're staying -- in a pretty little village just outside of Oxford. A temporary home for now but suc…

Focus

My regular journaling has significantly improved my mood.

I've been taking some time, twice a week, to polish existing content as well as develop my floating ideas into a more concrete outline.

I've felt this focus for the last 6 weeks that I can't really describe properly. It's as though I've shifted my thinking totally. Writing is my craft. It's what I do, who I am, how I exist. It's like my mojo.

So, I guess, I've gotten my mojo back. My focus, my purpose, my essence.

And it feels good. It feels right. And I am almost understanding more now why the best writing of the best writers happens when they are older, more polished, more experienced, more rough around the edges.

When all the youthful spark has been extinguished and what's left, is the determined embers, that will not go softly, that will not die out. That will continue, fervently glowing, creating warmth and not just drawing attention from its flicker, but pulling people in by it's so…

In Remembrance

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,."

When I was eight years old, I carried the Canadian flag in the Remembrance Day parade for our Brownie unit. I can't really remember when I realized the importance of November 11 but I can only imagine that somewhere between learning about that day at school and taking part in a very solemn ceremony that it must have been ingrained in my head to always mark this day.

   "That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly"

I remember growing up, the assemblies at school, always with a older veterans, in those days many from both World Wars, would attend. When I got to high school, I remember not being able to fathom how these decorated men and women, had once been my age, had once stood up and fought, and had made these decisions during the same years I would try to decide which route to take from English to Science just to maybe catch a glimpse of my current cru…