Japanese Windflower

Japanese Windflowers

“Have you seen our Japanese windflowers this morning Gerard?” This was said by H as the first morning conversation, waiting to get responses. “Yes, I looked at the windflower first thing while grinding the coffee, they look magnificent and so very white too”, much nicer than the pink ones”, I added.

The morning was now on its way.

I often wonder how those long range couples get through those first few minutes after waking. I assume that most wake up in tandem and at the same time. We do. That’s what longstanding relations achieve, a synchronisation of differences. What do we say after waking? Of course, during those earlier working years many people would just hurry out of bed, chew their toast before hurling themselves in the bus, car or train and few words would have have found a way out between the crumbs of toast slushing around a quick mouthful of coffee.

The mortgage had to be paid, kids had to be gotten to school, the car’s green slip was due and the cat was on heat or had mange. Things were on the go. If words were spoken, I assume, they would have been of a more practical nature. Perhaps words like: “don’t chuck your underpants on the floor and please, please, don’t leave skid marks in the toilet'” followed by “it’s not very romantic and considerate.” “Don’t forget the gas bill, we are on last notice”.

I doubt staring at windflowers first thing in the morning would have featured much during those earlier hectic working times.

The week-ends would be chewed up by chores. The lawn would get mowed, the carpet vacuumed, the toilet scrubbed, kids taken to soccer or ballet. .

That final reward for having pulled through. It is desired by many but achieved by so few. The secret is so by the hand, so obvious. It is right in front of our eyes. It is, “Small talk.”

“Small talk.” It is the margarine spread generously on the stone baked bread of relationships. The oil that lubricates couplings with wild abandonments. “Small Talk”. The worn springs on our conjugal matrasses. “Small talk”, the Sally Awe’s Tiger Balm of prevention in marital whiplash rashes and ennui scab. It does make the world go around. Try it.

” How did you sleep?” “Good, but had to piss three times”, how about you?” ” I went only twice I think, I am not sure, perhaps three times as well.” “Do you want sugar this morning?” Yes, just give me half a spoon, I can do with some sugar.” “I think the Arabia Victoria is still the best”. “So do I, it is the best coffee.” “Jesus, I hope this Government is going to get sacked soon.” “So do I, that bloody Morrison, he is just the pits.” ” He is.”

The day is now truly on its way.