It's been half term all the past week.
On Monday I caught the the 7.30 am train to London (and as I stood swaying in the carriage, propped upright by the other passengers, I remembered why I usually caught the 7 am train)
On Tuesday I had a routine blood test at 8am. This is a good time to go; the car park is empty, you are at the front of the queue, and there's plenty of time to get to work afterwards. Oh, but it's half term. I'm on holiday.
On Wednesday I had to be up and dressed ready for a home delivery, due sometime between 8 am and 12 am. It arrived at 11:45.
On Thursday I didn't have anything fixed for first thing - but still got up anyway to make my husband's packed lunch. It seems only fair, when he is working and I am not.
On Friday I was teaching at 9 am, so had to be up and dressed and looking tidy.
Everyday there was an impediment to having a decently lazy start to the day.
Today. Ah, today. The first event is scheduled for 10:15, and in a minute I will have to go upstairs and get dressed and ready. Until then, I have been sitting in peace and quiet; no television, no radio. Just me, my husband nearby, breakfast, "real" coffee, a National Trust magazine to browse...
the warmth of the sun on the back of my head, last weekend's flowers from a friend and my husband casting interesting shadows....
the gentle ticking of the clock....
It won't last. The rest of the day involves visiting my parents, going to a local wedding, probably doing the weekly shopping, preparing for Sunday School tomorrow, and thinking about the week ahead.