Little that matters

So I'm back from the big town. From the dear and cheer and oh so pretty everything. From the buzz and important. From the crowds and family gatgerings that I love. And I'm greeted by the smelly wet dog, the wet grass, the hungry cats and sticky mud. And I wish I would't care and could say everyone just get lost! But I don't. I dont go inside wnjoy civilised meal and maybe hot tea made in the electric kettle. My kettle will take its time on the wood burning stove... I tell my boys I'm goi to check the garden and they know what I mean. I go despite the fog (or is it really the rain?). I look for them bloody stupid slugs under my courgettes' leaves silly me (don't find any tonight), I wave to my tomatoes from the distance and hope they'll survive this cold coming night. I come back to my wooden home and take lavender & jasmine bath while the smelky dog dries out happily in the middle of our kitchen. And I dream of Alascan solitude. But today my place is here and I'm happy. I'm in the NOW.