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I’m sitting on the sofa listening to Sting. The window is open, and I can see out to the roof-tops of Timberbush - old and new, a mixture of grey and white clouds in the light blue sky, the odd seagull swooping past.

I’m actually relaxing...I pulled the door closed on a bedroom full of washing that is still to be hung up; I’ve even pushed aside the book that I’d planned to read, once I was settled – I’m at a really good bit as well! It can wait...

Sitting here on my new sofa, with my head comfortably snuggled into an unusually large cushion, my bare feet perched on the coffee table (if my mother could see me!), I feel totally chilled, and creative too oddly enough, as if all of the usual thoughts that busy my mind have been sucked right out and been replaced with: our imminent holiday to France; the print I bought two years ago of the Leith waterfront that I’ve been meaning to frame; how bloody good Sting is, as well as not at all bad looking for his age; how ornate the building opposite looks from this side window; and, how odd a little spring of fern looks, peeking out from between a broken slate, quivering in the wind.

I’ve not done this in a while – relax. I did it all the time as a teenager. No TV in my bedroom, and certainly no washing to contend with, I just had records, tapes, magazines, and books. I’d lie on my bed and listen to ‘Human League’, perhaps write in my diary, or think about what I was going to wear to the ‘YM disco’ that Friday night, before spending half an hour on the phone to my pal Laura to help me decide between my pink ‘Ra Ra’ skirt or black Sarsaparilla jeans. Those were the days!

I knew how to relax back then. It’s funny how you forget as you grow older. So called ‘spare’ time is quickly filled with so many other things. You feel chuffed at how much you’ve managed to fit into one Sunday afternoon – it’s all about how much you can cram in. At least, it is with me. But I’ve not relaxed. I’ve not even thought about adding it to my ‘to do’ list. I clearly need to do this relaxing thing more often and I don’t just mean plonking myself in front of the TV, unless it’s a really good movie of course and I have a big bowl of crisps on my lap!

Well, back to enjoying this afternoon and the cool breeze that is coming in through the window... Norman can hang up the washing when he comes in...I’ve a date with Sting...Bliss.

Pick up your copy of the leither to read on...

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