Giving Time The Bird

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It's been a very slow-time day today: that curious perceptual phenomenon where time seems to pass more slowly than expected; no matter how much you get done, there always appears time to do more. I used to get this when I was working: some days, you could be rattling through work and thinking the day was going well and would soon be over, only to realize it was barely lunchtime. Other days, I'd find myself struggling over the first job of the day to find it was almost time to pack it in and go home.

Today, we've been shopping, got petrol and have spent a couple of hours clearing some of the jungle down at our car parking space in preparation for the spring and hopefully, the easing of restrictions for the start of the tourist season. After a good workout with ladders, loppers and secateurs, we headed back here for lunch; after which we tried to get the bonfire lit to start in on the mountain of garden waste that hasn't found space in the two wheelie bins that we pay an annual stipend on [like I said, it's a big garden, and generates a lot of 'stuff'] - unfortunately the previous weeks monsoon-like weather has left it all a tad damp and pretty un-inflammable at the moment. Still, the forecast is good for the next week, so we should start to get things cleared away over the next few days without resorting to dangerous accelerants.

After all this, I spent an hour in the studio, where I made another beech-block chopping-board - this one for the cottage kitchen - put out the bins and the recycling, came back to the house and prepped tonight's Sunday roast of Guinea-fowl, roast potatoes and veg, made the sauce and sat down to write this: and it still seems like there's time to spare. Weird: just goes to show, Time really is Relative...

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