Sunday 11 March 2012

Day 64, 11 March: Lazy Sunday

Norfolk Terrace, Day 64. Lazy Sunday

The sun shined at its height of strength upon this patch of earth today, students dotted the grasses and crossed each other in the excitement of casual football games. Another picnic day and it being a Sunday made it an appropriately lazy Sunday.
            I finished off the last two days entries in the morning, halfway through hearing the door open and a weary Vinnie for the first time this morning made it to his bed. Since 5am he had been at the hospital with Marie. While roughhousing last night, like Marie does with her two 6’-tall, older brothers, she broke her arm in the midst of hurling herself at Vinnie. At least that’s the combined account I’ve gathered.
            She told me later as I hung up my laundry in the drying room (yeah, it’s an odd room to have in a flat) that she was now heading home for a week to study and recover. That makes another flatmate gone for an extended period of time, the first being Stephen who has been MIA for two weeks now. The flat’s incomplete without them.
            After laundry, I skyped Katya and family, daylight savings in America making it only seven hours between us now. I skyped again with Katya later on: Thirty minutes turned into fifty, the good-bye requiring a good length for the recapitulation. The coda was to be like Beethoven’s Third (a.k.a. a very long one), as Katya suggested. I know that part of me was aware that I was missing out on the summer-esque activity outside my window, but I felt more missed on skype. And I missed those on skype too.
            Barbeque sauce added to the taco mix added to the herb (“Hhhherb”, I guess; apparently no silent “h” here) added to the meat mince for the tacos made it incredible. I couldn’t finish.
            I continue the struggle of reading for the week and contemplating the essays and their looming deadline. The darkness feels as if softly placed in a shallow shadow of the evening air. In this atmosphere of passive ease, I slip under my covers and let thoughts stir into subconscious images. 

No comments:

Post a Comment