Guilty Pleasures and Sunday Scribblings

It has turned cold here, and it has been raining. It has been raining a lot. On Friday, the river was up to its banks as I left for work. I found myself wondering whether or not it was high tide. When I returned home, the river was still up to its banks with muddy water, though it hadn't spilled over. I think there must have been enough run-off from all the rain flowing down the river to offset any tidal effect pushing its way up from the sea.

I am waiting at work for a new accounting program to be installed on the computer. So on Friday I told my boss I didn't have anything to do and left early. Of course in a week or so when I have the new program, I will be busier than I want to be, but in the meantime I'm relaxing. I came home and lit the fire in the big front room and sat there reading, while my daughter brought her laptop in and got on with her writing.

I love the open fire. Before too long I won't be able to enjoy this pleasure any more. Open fires are to be banned here because of the air pollution they cause. On certain days an "inversion layer" blanket sits over the city, trapping all the smoke. I rarely light the fire, partly because of guilt over the pollution, and partly because I don't often take the time to just sit. All the action takes place in other parts of the house - the cleaning, the cooking, the sewing, even the computer - it's all elsewhere. But the fire reminds me of childhood, and climbing the big pine tree with a hammer to knock down the pine cones to burn in winter. Besides, the pollution issue isn't as simple as all that. If we use too much electricity the hydro lakes will run low, and the coal-fired and oil-powered electricity generating stations will have to work extra, and that causes air pollution too (just not here). And then, if we don't burn our supply of wood from storm felled trees, it would have to go to the landfill, and that's a problem too. So I feel only a small twinge of guilt.

Today I lit the fire again and worked on my "Sunday Scribblings". I have just discovered this blog which offers weekly writing prompts. I have been exploring the many beautiful, thoughtful contributions. This week's prompt initially had me thinking along the same lines, and then for some reason I thought of Dr Seuss ("oh the places you'll see") and decided to write something else altogether. It's not really nonsensical enough to be at all Dr Seuss -like. If anyone wants to steal the idea and try to do it better, feel free. But I had a lot of fun.

Oh, The Books I Would Write

Oh the books I would write in my house in the tree
where the fantails and tuis would sing songs to me
and a fat huhu grub would tell tales in my ear
and the wind would bring stories from far and from near

Oh the books I would write in my nautilus boat
on the deep ocean swell where the jellyfish float.
I'd have cuttlefish ink for my gull feather pen
and write tales of mermaids and sea-faring men.
The whales and dolphins would sing me some more
and a seagull would carry my pages to shore.

Oh the books I would write in my hot air balloon
as I glide over land by the light of the moon.
I'd see lions and zebras in African lands
I'd glide over seas ringed by silvery sands.
I'd camp out with a circus in trailers and tents.
I'd visit bazaars filled with exotic scents.
I'd ride with the nomads, wild and free
Oh the books I would write, oh the places I'd see.