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.

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