Bright Spots | Week Nineteen

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I could talk about the tomato plants, a pair of them ripe with promise, on our windowsill or the novels I purchased from my favourite bookshop this breezy afternoon. I could talk about the lilacs, tulips, wisteria, roses all over the city; London daubed, suddenly, stupendously, in splashes of spring colour. I could talk of the delicious, lip-licking coffee we brewed for breakfast and the simple joy of sitting out to read the paper in the morning sunshine.

But instead, I’d like to talk this week of those living, breathing bright spots, without which my weeks would be void of joy – the humans I rely on and hold dear. My grandfather, his cockneyed ‘sweetheart’ echoing down the telephone line. He gave us those tomato vines, complete with instructions for care, and takes care of my little elderly cat as if she were his own. My grandmother, always laughing, who bakes and bakes, just to see us smile at the sweetness even though she flat-out refuses to eat her own cooking. My sister, for her dedication, for always being a phone call away. My parents too – endlessly supportive, even while some seven thousand miles away. Sweet friends, always game for an evening walk, a coffee date, a bookshop adventure. Darling Americans, the best pen-pals a girl could ask for. My Matthew – his grin, his kindness, and his unending affection. And, you, too. Hearing from you always makes my day.

It’s been an odd week – change is afoot, which I know, deep down, is a good thing even though it makes me nervous – and I’m oh-so-ready for a new one. Hope yours gets off to a splendid start tomorrow!