A short walk. A long talk to myself.
I probably started blogging out of a sense of loss. Getting older, letting go of my Dad, my office in the city closing due to the recession, the reality of redundancy looming. A day came when I found myself working from home, alone, albeit with regular dashes across the country for face to face meetings. My new office was just a laptop and a mobile phone a far cry from the luxury of a group of colleagues and a swivel chair.
An office in the city created a balance in my life. The city was for work, the country was home.
I could spend lunch time browsing for books, meet a friend in a busy cafe, make a salad plate in our kitchen and share weekend stories with other staff. Now I found myself eating alone, staring out the window into a field full of thistles and trying to figure out how to have an office tea break with yourself?
Before long the birds and I began to chatter over a cup of coffee and found a shared rhythm in our day. Animals turned up while I ate my sandwiches and I became curious about their lives and families. Weather clouds constantly changing, brought light and shade to my life as they drifted overhead and past my patch.
On these days when I work from home, I look an absolute fright! Today for my elevenses I strolled across the fields, and got wet hair and mud on my shoes. There had been so much rain and I squished along the sodden trail talking away to myself. Wet hair, red face, a fat finch on a branch, tiny drops of rainbow colours on the leaf tips. Bliss!
This is how my morning break goes now and for a while at least I am oblivious to work and the rest of the world.........