Sunday, 20 May 2018

French porcelain cup

a strange awakening,nthe groan of the son's alarm clock threading it's way in to become part of a dream, which ends with the alarm clock and being awake in bed.
Test the lungs, that bronchitis-like problem. They feel better, the cough is not as bad, the congestion is withdrawing.

Bathroom, brush the residues of the night's sleep away from the teeth. There is still dust in the hair from yesterday's walk through the attic. Make the decision to shower later. Return to the bedroom, consider, and then get up to make a cup of coffee, using the practical little Pavoni machine. The coffee is a thick turgid brown mass, like some German politics. The white French porcelain cup shows it off nicely, take the whole lot in to the computer, now in the bedroom window. The first sip of  the brown brew is lovely, and watch the computer start. See what the politics in the world have done, and find it irritating that so much importance is attached to the comparison between the size of the crowds at a wedding and the crowds at a corrupt clown's inauguration. Politics and humour, but it is funny that size matters to everybody, no matter what they claim.


Musings done, get up and take a shower, consider the conversion of the bathroom as the hot water sprays down over the head, onto the back, onto the legs. Add soap, a short scrub, and all is ready for the day.
Return to the bedroom, the wife is still asleep, put aside yesterdays greas-collared shirt, find fresh clothing in the wardrobe. And when all is done, the clothes on, go to the son's room, he is up and getting dressed. He wants to go to the small café. Agree, but he must dress first, and comb his long red hair. His hair is long, he is frequently taken for a girl. But he is to have it as he wants it, as long as it will grow that way. This may not be for ever.

And whilst waiting, and waiting, write these notes for the morning into the small computer, directly into the web that has more to do with politics than anybody had anticipated. Ever.
Try to think of a title for this text.
French porcelain, the shiny little cup by a firm called Apilco, awaits it´s second filling

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