Simply sitting. Looking. Thinking. Quirkily Analysing. Needing the method of all items before your eyes because that is the fleeting moment of reality. Cannot be mind seen later. Without their presence…..they simply would not ‘image exist’ in the non visual memory of an Aphantasia mind.

What simple little stories exist before your eyes? The juxtaposition of objects have singular stories and familiarities. They expand their stories by being used. No shop window fountain pen that you saw and desired, but never touched. But your own one here in your room that has written your secrets down. In doing so, it becomes a friend.

Other items in these photographs.

The beautiful keepsake that is the Trees pocketbook. Read to understand more about the trees in the garden. The Silver Birch. The Apple Tree. Insights now gained. Appreciation for their inclusions heightened. The magical and healing properties alongside the general biological/horticultural content. The mystery of trees are described holistically in such a little treasure book and that enhances comfort. The knowledge that the Apple and Silver Birch trees actually exist but a whisker-kisker away. The self well being vibe vibrates and shimmers.

The book of ‘Feelings’. Small phrases that tug at your heart strings. Your thoughts. ‘Are you happy?’ It states….If I am, then I should be satisfied with the way things are. Am I satisfied? I think I am. So I must be Happy. A few to a plethora of worrisome thoughts can crash your mind out of the happiness vibe in an instant. It’s so strange that happiness can simply turn on a sixpence. But remember. Half a sixpence is better than half a farthing and half a farthing is better than none. Arthur Kipps eventually found happiness with Ann didn’t he? So even the twinkling spark of the Happy presence is a blessing. Sit back, wait patiently and let happiness blossom and re-grow. Mindfully discard such worries, shove them on that proverbial leaf that floats on the river watery glistening surface and watch them sail away down stream. I cannot imagine the floating leaf, so use the sweep of my open hand to bat the negative thoughts away. Better? Yes….better.

Pens. Used to write the day’s events down in a diary, a chosen journal a piece of random paper. Pour out the positives. Did negatives exist? Probably. But I chose to ignore. The words written down had that fancy, yet weird, script that has been a part of my writing style for decades. The subtle changes in lettering styles over the decade are evident. But like infants growing into children then onwards into adulthood, they have to alter. Inevitable. The letters to word combinations live and breathe and want to show that they can change their presented individualities. Gain unique status. I wonder now what a handwriting expert analyst would make of my personality. Maybe I’ve fooled them into getting it wrong? I doubt it. My words shout out profoundly the inherent ‘me’. Flamboyant? Quirky? Seeker of Unique Ownership? A Wannabe Peacock Preening? That’s for me to know and others to decide. Actually? Rustic, Experimental and Comfortable within my awareness of self owned limitations.

40 year wooden calendar. Just changed to December. Late in doing so……but now done. Thoughts turn to the value of time. A gift. Yet governed today by the turn of a stamp dated metal plate. I like this uncomplicated turn of a disc to determine a once a month activity to keep up to date. You realise it seems a long time ago since it was last ‘monthly’ changed. Four weeks feels like a few more extra added on ones have been experienced.

Plant seeds. A gift from our daughter. Kew Gardens visit. She’ll have taken photographs. I know that instinctively. They will appear in the not too distant future. Glorious presentations in her abilities to capture the perfect imagery. I can then see what she saw through her own eyes. I look over to the huge tome that is the RHS gardeners bible. Information and guidance of how to grow Nicotiana, with considerations applied, will exist inside.

The espresso ground coffee inside the ever reliable Stanley mug. It won’t go cold for an hour or more. So no hesitancy to drink it sooner than later. Maybe it will garner a sweeter ambience on the taste buds by simply sitting there and improving by settling down. Like a fine wine does.

The little tin of voice imps. Liquorice strong. Powerful and addictive. The crunch which satisfyingly explodes the aroma. Like a bread dough slapped into powdery flour which pours out the excitement of baking into the air. But that liquorice with its side effects and interactions! Time to stop thinking like a nurse. Just relax and enjoy the moment.

Strange what you see before your eyes. But then again. Not so strange really. Every picture tells a story…….don’t it?