• Charli

Welcome Home

Today started off as being ‘just a day’. I didn’t sleep well last night, almost certainly a combination of a couple of glasses of wine, menopausal night sweats and the inevitable Sunday night/Monday morning feeling.

However, having felt the warmth of the North Berwick sun rise on my skin and in my soul this morning, I was in the right frame of mind to welcome and accept whatever the day had to offer me.

This mood continued during my first meeting when a colleague acknowledged that the last meeting we had been at together was nothing if not uncomfortable for me, but that I handled it really well: ‘professionally’ was the term that was used, and not without a certain level of respect and admiration. I felt vindicated and able to be a little more certain that my instinct and intuition had been correct.

Was it the sun that was driving bad behaviour at school today? Or was it that interviews and exams were taking place which distracted the senior management team away from those who were usually at the forefront of their awareness. Young people were left angry, frustrated and discombobulated. It has to be said that most of these are third year pupils, desperately trying to assert themselves against a regime that has seen it all before.

Driving South West this morning I was taken aback that the haar had settled over the valley, and remembered that the last time I had worn pumps, cigarillos and took no jacket or scarf, the snow and sleet assaulted my senses and it took until 9pm for me to thaw.

As I arrived home this evening at 1810, I recognised the number plate of a very dear friend’s car parked at the top of the drive, belonging  to A, who I know is staying in the flat above us for a few weeks. This is the very same A with whom I spent a wonderful few days in Venice in February. The smile on my face was broad and genuine as I bounded up the stairs and hugged and kissed my friend on the cheeks.

Of course I was able to be persuaded to have a glass of wine with her and her husband in the Nether Abbey, after all it is Monday.

Welcome Home my dear friends, B+A. The planets are aligned, you are home.

Welcome Home – a poem

A cyclical pattern of seasons –

Autumn, Winter, Spring and Summer,

chasing the sun and moon.

The snow falls in May,

and then a hot October day,

excites and confuses,

and we scurry for sun cream,

hats, scarves and long sleeves,

spf 50 and beyond.

“acqua alta” welly boots and style.

Welcome home my friends,

it’s been a while.

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