Demain, dès l'aube

Dawn was pretty special this morning.

I wasn't feeling very special, myself, having been woken early by Katherine's alarm clock - set so she can wake up early and read her book for a while before the usual morning routine. Unable to get back to sleep because of the kids' stage whispered game (suddenly reading went right out of her head when her brother appeared), I grumped downstairs for tea and radio 4, and spent a slightly bewitched ten minutes in the garden with this view. Calmed me right down, and put me in just the right zen mood for the morning rush of breakfasts, homework, "where's my...." and leaving the house.

Work on the MBH was filling, sugar soaping and painting, stopped only by running out of paint (which I looked for for a while, before remembering it was all stacked in the hall of our rented house). So an impromptu lunch back here for supplies and back to work. So now our bedroom has had its first coat. Tomorrow will be mostly a day off from that kind of work - it being busy-rushing-about Wednesday.

Home for the good news that Katherine had a good score in her spelling and history tests, and Conor had a lovely afternoon playing in the nursery as his teacher was on strike. Dinner was "whatever you like" (chips for Conor and chips and pork and green beans for Katherine) and there was Doctor Who too which, along with a bonus chat with my parent and a facetime with Mr B (we were orange today) made for a relaxing evening.

The title is from the first poem I liked in French. It's Victor Hugo, though it was Baudelaire that I pseudily read in College to make myself appear cooler. (I'm sure smoking Gitanes would have worked better, but Baudelaire is much better for your health.)