A Right Small Glass

This morning, I’m greeted by a beautiful array of colours while I peer bleary eyed through my dining room window. Enhanced by the late autumnal sun, the deep orange of pyracantha, burgundy of sedum and multiple tinctures of winter pansies stare contentedly back at me.

In front of me lays a view that’s literally a sight for sore eyes. Basking in solar rays even the moribund perennials, such as the hydrangea, contribute to the overall synergy of this delightful canvas. Sitting slurping a previously neglected lukewarm coffee, I can’t be anything other than in awe of nature.

Panoramically scanning each contrasting hue, I slowly absorb the majesty of the view that soothe my sleep filled eyes. As I embrace these aesthetically pleasing sights I can’t help but think to myself “Bloody hell, has next doors cat been s****ing on my lawn again!”

I’m not sure what’s on today’s itinerary for yours truly. My missus (Karen) has suggested a visit to an out of town shopping outlet. Karen doesn’t want to go, she just wants me out of the house as I’m apparently ‘doing her head in’.

I need to nip over to my mum’s at some stage today. I’ve a few bits I want to undertake at chez Strachan senior now that the dust has started to settle since my father’s funeral…… Dusting being one of them.

Yesterday, I sent a printing company a collection of narratives and prose I’d written, which I want to self-publish into a hardback tome in memory of my old man. Titled ‘A Right Small Glass’  (after my dad’s response if you offered him red wine), it’s a mix of melancholic and lighter observations the clan utilised when tackling the grief experienced during the last few weeks of his life. In addition, it relays how we as a family coped in the month after his passing.

Wine and bottle

After reading the e-book copy of the content, I’m proud of how I’ve diarised the amalgam of sorrow, dark whimsy and words from the heart during this dreadful time. Amongst the narratives are my thoughts during hospice visits and the eulogy I delivered at the funeral.

As this was a family journey, I’ve ordered a copy for each of my siblings. Due to the subject matter and the time it was penned they may not want to read it, which is fine. However, if they want to keep it as a memory of our father, there’s a book with their names on….. From memory they’re on pages 11, 19, 21, 48, 114 & 187.

As it’s inappropriate to gift this literary offering on Christmas Day, I’ll bestow this tome to our Ian and Helen prior to Santa’s visit. Anyway, I’ve already got their Christmas presents; a copy of the fitness DVD I brought out for Christmas titled ‘Does My Arse Look Big In This?’…….. If it’s successful, I’m hoping to bring out it’s sequel ‘Does My Arse Still Look Big In This?’ in time for the Easter gift market.

Incidentally, I’m not suggesting that my siblings are on the hefty side and need to engage in a fitness regime…….. Although our Helen is over eight and a half weeks pregnant, so may at some point appreciate some of the salient points in the DVD to lose her pregnancy weight.

Coming to think of it our Ian, is a bit of a lard arse as well, so he may also embrace the fitness tips I advocate……. Unless of course he sees how fat my gut is and rightly concludes my regime can’t be that effective and not bother!

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