Tuesday is my day for swimming. It’s also my day for shopping. I live in Bicester (north of Oxford) but the pool that I like is in Abingdon (south of Oxford). This is okay because I work in Oxford. If I go to the pool straight after work then, when I finish, I can nip (literally) round the corner and do my weekly shop at Waitrose just before they close when it’s nice and quiet but still well-stocked.
Today we had pretty amazing thunderstorms and the rain to go with them. I’d also got ideas for my novel going round in my head…
His head bobs up seal-like on the far side of the circular pool. Next to him, treading water, hair sleeked back is Hanna. She grins. Ben grins back and dives again, swimming strongly across the pool.
At the far side of the pool he surfaces again, levering himself partly out of the water on crossed arms. Across the low, rendered, unpainted wall opposite are he painted roofs of the town and the elegant lines of the cathedral spire stretching skywards.
…and I was tempted to escape home before the next outburst of rain, hibernate and write. But if I hadn’t gone swimming I wouldn’t have got food. More importantly if I hadn’t gone swimming I wouldn’t have got food. More importantly if I hadn’t gone swimmig, the current scene I’m writing wouldn’t have been written.
So here’s to routine. It’s good!