Typical, it is my day off from studying and I am having a banging headache. It reminds me of the rainy Bank Holidays in England. You wait for days, plan and then rain comes. Nothing can stop it. I had a long list of e-mails I wanted to write to friends from work, the family who gave me shelter in between the moving, to Mozambique which is long due. I still haven’t written to Edwin and haven’t sent the piece about The Lost Shells to Eszter either.
There is one really nice thing about today, though it is mum`s birthday J We had a delicious family lunch: peach soup with cream, fried duck and my favourite of all times: steamed-fried cabbage with apples and onions. I had to have a little nap after all that food.
There might be a summer storm on the way. Apparently it is already raining in the western side of the country. That might be an explanation for my headache. I love summer storms, the quick preparation, putting the garden furniture in safety. I remember I used to help covering the hay before the summer storms when I lived at home. The freshness of the breeze turned into wild wind in seconds and we battled with the thick foil on the hay tying bricks on the ends to hold it down. By the time we finished it normally started to rain in big heavy drops and we ran into the kitchen still in stress but with much relief that the hay was going to stay dry. We watched the rain falling and bubbling up on the pavement. We unplugged all the appliances and gathered candles and torches in case the storm storms in the night. I loved putting on an old knitted cardigan those times. It gave me safety and comfort as we listened to the branches falling under the heavy force of the wind. Lightning gave light sending secret Morse messages from the sky as the plants danced under the pressure of the elements.
There is a lot in an old knitted cardigan. It is like a book cover for a unique story.
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