One of life’s pleasures is curling up with a good book to the sound of rain beating against the window pane. Bliss.
Now there are a certain few tweeks to make this pleasure absolute bliss. Firstly the coffee it has to be a blend which you enjoy, this is definitely not the time for “it will do” blend. Secondly the mug. It has to be big enough to hold a warming amount of coffee but not too big that the mug itself is hard to lift. Thirdly one has to be comfy. Perhaps a quilt to throw around the shoulders or over the knees. Perhaps a throw or perhaps that old warm roomy jumper that has survived so many mishaps.
Of course the most important choice is that of a book. This is the time for the latest book by a favourite author. Perhaps this is the time for renewing the warmth one feels from a favoutite book read so many times that the cover has that well thumbed look.
Easter Monday dawned to the sound of rain battering the windows. Grey skys enveloped the area cutting the house off to the rest of the world. Small streams were already forming as yet again another year had passed and the drains had not been cleared. Rain dripped from the forlorn looking trees.
I went through my mental list. Dinner? Left overs from Easter Sunday Lunch. Snacks? Leftovers from Easter Sunday and Easter Eggs. Kitchen? Spick and span. Oh yes, mental list checked off. This day had all the makings for an uninterupted reading day. Sheer Bliss.
I found myself in my favourite chair, my quilt folded beside me, in my comfy clothes and footrest in place. Not knowing quite what book I wanted to read I had a selection. Ruth dudley Edwards “Matricide at St. Martha’s”, Donna Leon’s “Earthly Remains“, Noel Dorr’s “Ireland at the United Nations” and Daisy Thurbin’s “The Radziwll Leagacy“.
A tray beside me held toasted hot cross buns my husband had made, a sliced apple and a pot of tea being kept warm with a tea cosy. Beside it sat a small china mug with images of the London Olympics bringing back happy memories.
Yes I was all set. Still there was something amiss. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Something just wasn’t quite right. What was preveinting me from settling into one of my favourite pastimes. Standing up and looking at the space I had made for my reading day it took a while for the incongruity to emerge.
I sat down a little stunned. I was reading with a pot of tea!! For those of you who may not know me I am a coffee holic. I love coffee and it hurts when I purchase or make a bad cup of coffee. Realisation slowly dawned upon me that since I had had a massive allergy attack I had not sipped a drop of coffee.coffee.
Yikes. Nóilín minus a mug of coffee? What a weird notion. But it was no longer a notion it was a reality. During the previous thirteen days I had not had a drop of coffee but what was really weird was that I had not missed it. Nursing a cup of tea I pondered this new situation but the call of a book soon interupted these musings.
It wasn’t long before Ruth Dudley Eadwards had me laughing at the antics of the heroine and the question of why my body was rejecting coffee for tea was soon forgotten. The rain continued unabated while I read and savoured being warm, having books to read while listening to music of the rain on the window.
It certainly was absolute bliss but with a new twist.