Them

She came home later than usual that afternoon. The look on her face screamed "I was just a few marks off passing!" He guessed she'd been hiding in the library all afternoon... he was probably right, she had a habit of doing that.

"So what if you didn't pass?!" His voice sounded softer than she expected, she wandered to the bedroom without a word.

He plonked himself at the kitchen table. Frustrated and a little uneasy with her dismissal. Stillness swept the house and after ten minutes he couldn't bare it. A letter. That was the best way to get through to her.

I hope you know I don't care that you didn't pass. You're going to cry about this exam, I know you are - hell, I might too! I'll be yours at two in the morning and two in the afternoon and I'll kiss you until you smile again.

And I'll still bring you cheese on toast every Thursday afternoon. We can watch that shitty film you love, and yes I'll pretend I'm interested despite already knowing the ending.

Let's see if you're still mad after that.

He folded the note, slipped it under the bedroom door and listened attentively for the sound of the floorboards creaking.

Familiar sound heard, he popped two slices of bread in the toaster and raided the fridge for the cheese.

❊

Monday Musings

Excited for: Lots of laughing. I'm going to see Russell Howard this Sunday and excitement is definitely taking over!

Listening to: Ben L'Oncle Soul. A soulful, French singer songwriter?! Well damn, I am sold. After being introduced to his music by my older brother around a year ago I'm still loving it. Perfect on a warm summer evening or even as a winter pick me up.

Planning: A whole heap of journeys I want to take... providing I pass my driving test. There's a lot of places I want to see, explore, wander through and passing my driving test later in the month would really help me along with this. Motivation to pass: check!

Writing: Stacks of notes/revision. I say revision but it's more doodles, musings, thoughts, brainstorms, peculiar facts I'm unlikely to ever need. 

Wishing for: Just a little more sunshine. Brighter, longer days have been very appealing lately.

Loving: The beautiful sunsets that grace the sky each evening.

❊

A Story And A Song

After reading Sometimes Sweet's blog post on 'Journal Days' I decided there might be a few prompts that would spark some creativity/ideas. I kept my eyes peeled and to my luck the second prompt was a winner.

Robbie Williams - Mr Bojangles.

This song was the one that lead to a change in taste of music, swing, jazz and blues soon became a firm favourite after this. It hurls me back to when I was a lot younger - mostly reminding me of mini road trips with Pap and taking every Monday morning off to go for coffee and a toasted croissant.

Things have changed a lot since then but there are times when we both still listen to this song. I think the familiar whistling entertains the feeling of nostalgia we share. He longs for a time when I was small enough to sit on his knee and I long for a time when I didn't have to be in school on a Monday .

However nostalgia isn't the only feeling that surrounds Robbie Williams' rendition of this swing classic. Happiness, serenity, ambition and desire for a further utopia all remind me of those car journeys with my best friend, even silence was a welcomed feeling.

One of the first things I think of when I hear this song is the long haul trip we take to Italy every year. It would be around 3am and I'd wake from a slumber to find the car still going at a steady pace, everyone asleep but Dad - not once did he make a fuss about being alone at 3am driving through Switzerland, I admire him for that. 

After a long discussion about the food we couldn't wait to eat and the faces we longed to see, Pap would instinctively put our song on and I'd slowly but surely drift back to sleep.

There have been times when we've sang it, whistled it, cried to it, sat in silence to it, (probably even) bickered over it but it will be a constant and vivid memory of mine. One so vivid I can almost close my eyes and be transported to the same surroundings, weather and emotions that the mellow tune so often linked to.

❊

The Birthday Girl

'If you don't understand how a woman could both love her sister dearly and want to wring her neck at the same time, then you were probably an only child.'

❊

The Velveteen Rabbit

                                     

"What is REAL?" Asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become real."

"Does it hurt?" Asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

❊