• Charli


There was something about the quality of the air on Friday morning when I walked Jack – it smelled particularly clean. Of course there is a freshness associated with living near the sea, and it becomes part and parcel of everyday life and so can go unnoticed, but on Friday it was a welcome wake up to my senses.

When I returned form my incredible trip to New York last year the first thing I noticed when I heaved my jet lagged body off the train, was how clean the North Berwick air was and I could hardly get enough of inhaling it.

Over Easter weekend a local farmer spread raw hen pen on the fields behind North Berwick and the stench was unbearable. I found myself gagging  and had to cover my mouth with a scarf when gong out of the house. It was so awful it permeated through the thick brick walls of home. The farmer has since been served with an abatement order to not do that again.

On Friday afternoon I offered a colleague a lift to a collegiate event, after her group had left without her. As soon as she sat down in the passenger seat, I saw the inside of my car through her eyes and it was not clean. It was not filthy but certainly in need sprucing up. So after MRT yesterday morning, and in between chatting to J and having lunch, I dragged the old Dyson out of the garage and sooked up apple pips, stalks, sand and dust from beach and MRT, wiped the dashboard down and extracted a piece of chewing gum and an Anadin tablet from under the passenger seat.

Lucy W has been on the hunt for  a new car since her unfortunate bump recently, and regales her Callanetics classes with the opposed criteria she and her dad have for buying a new car. Lucy wants a black car, it doesn’t matter about the make or model, it has to be black. Her dad claims that black cars show the dirt more quickly. Lucy doesn’t care, and quite rightly pointed out that as he will never be cleaning it what does it really matter to him? Besides, a dirty car is a dirty car, not matter the colour. My black car is dirty and cleaning it will be added to the list of things to do today.

Yesterday evening was spent in the company of some wonderful friends of E’s over in Bothwell. It was an intimate affair and filled with so much love for the host, and justifiably so!  E was celebrating her 50th and had booked a small restaurant, Winnifred’s for us about 25 of us and the atmosphere was charged with shiny happy people having a damn good time, and I have no doubt going into the wee wee hours.

Originally I was going to stay over but made the decision yesterday afternoon to not drink and drive home instead. Sitting here at the kitchen table with the door open and the clean washing in sight, I am glad that my head is clear and I can tackle to mountainous list of things to do today, and have the energy to do them well.

Clean –  a poem

You’ve chosen some food to eat

having carried it to this place.

If you then discard the packaging

drop litter, you’re a disgrace.

Who do you think will pick it,

and why should anyone else?

Take responsibility for your actions

and keep our environment safe.

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