That weekend last autumn. The one when I huffed and puffed and plonked a dusty old Chesterfield by the slow moving river in our garden, was important. It reminded me, again, about the utter pointlessness of too much planning and waiting. A year waiting – is a year gone for good.
The settee had sat in the garage for three years because it won’t fit through the front door. I was waiting for the right time to take a window out. Or something.
And the ground by the river lay unvisited for three years of my life as I planned how to upgrade the terrain.
Then, one day, I thought – fuck it. Get a weatherproof cover and let the settee live by the river. Today.
In under an hour we had such a lovely – and weird – place to just, be.
I’m sat there now. Writing and smiling and thinking, again, about the utter pointlessness of too much planning and waiting. A year waiting – is a year gone for good.