Sun becomes her!

I’m turning into a sunflower. One glimpse of sun this past week and I feel my face swivelling towards it, twisting my neck like Meryl Streep’s in ‘Death Becomes Her’.

Shut up with the computer all winter writing another book I’m like a light starved plant; all weak and white and prone to keeling over. Then suddenly there was this strange phenomenon shafting over my shoulder and igniting the dust on the computer screen. It wasn’t till the sun shone on it that I realised it had got so furry it was like looking through tissue. But rather than dust it I did the sensible thing; got my boots on and went out like a druggie looking for a fix.

I was so high I fairly skipped down the path. And just like the birds trilling for a mate I even started singing.

“What’s that terrible noise?” asked my teenager in response. But even she was tempted out away from the technology to visit old home education haunts in the garden.

“This tree I used to climb has got smaller,” she said.

“I think you’ve got bigger, darling.”

“Can I make a mess?”

“You always used to.”

It was like old times. I left her to it and set off along the tracks head high, spirits with wings, and a view of things other than the inside of my hood which has been down over my face all winter. And just like the sunflower, I turned my face to wherever the sun was. This was fine walking out but coming back I kept tripping over as I had my head twisted so far round I almost met myself coming back!

What a tonic. When I got home I gave the screen a cursory wipe and could belt out words faster than my daughter on MSN which is saying something. And I felt all glowing and revitalised and capable of growing ten feet tall with maybe even a flower on top.

One week of sunshine and I’m hallucinating!


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