Monday, 27 August 2007
Scene from an English garden in summer
Yesterday I was out in the garden, in my deckchair. The next minute I was ripping up weeds and chucking things about in a fit of temper. Including the deckchair.
It amused me to read logging on today that there is now a video link on the blogger toolbar for posting clips. If only, I thought, I'd got yesterday's outburst on film. I was wearing my wide-brimmed sunhat and one of those long flappy dresses and was feeling as serene as a Merchant Ivory extra sipping tea. Then my mobile went.
The person who prompted this sudden ill-advised outburst of white rage is several hundred miles away in Cornwall with our son. Nevertheless, and despite our recent separation, he is still able to produce in me an ire that simply cannot be contained. It comes over me like a tornado, and I just thank God we no longer live together, for everyone's sakes.
And so today I find I can hardly move, and I predict it may get worse for a few days, so I thought I'd better post before it really kicks in, even if it's just to say I won't be posting until my pain levels return to tolerable. And that makes me even crosser. More with myself for being so stupid in the garden than anything else.
He will never change because he thinks he is perfect. I can change because I know I am far from perfect. Knowledge is power. Therefore I win. Hah.