Almost as soon as I walked through the door I shed my professional Duracell rabbit persona.
I had stolen a few minutes to myself at lunchtime to pop into the Italian delicatessen and a stunning flower shop near the office. Both were overpriced – not surprisingly as they were nestled between major banks and law firms. However, as there was no chance of me making it to Columbia Road Flower Market or down to the Theatre of Wine this weekend, I handed over my debit card, reassuring myself that these treats were considerably more modest than those of many of my peers.
It was gone eleven by the time I got home but as the bar at the end of the road was gearing up for a long and loud night and Mr M was still winding his way back from Chester, I thought nothing of putting on a Janaček record. After pouring a glass of Chianti classico and with the familiar sounds of the Sinfonietta streaming into the kitchen, I set about unwrapping my other indulgence.
For weeks I had been hunting out the last of the year’s spray roses and today I had stumbled across some delightful ones. Think tightly wrapped buds of palest pink reminiscent of aged parchment. Between sips of wine I stripped the leaves of contrasting cherry pink stem roses and twisted the roses, lysianthus and wispy green foliage into a cheerful informal posy. My delight increased further as I managed to rescue five large rose buds from last’ weeks bouquet and give them a new lease of life by plunging their shortened stalks into a jam jar of water.
As I sat back to admire this weekend’s floral creation, Janacek’s resplendent brass filled the eaves. The blooms, music and wine helped me relegate the memories of a trying week into their rightful resting place. I knew that one day snatching moments of these simple medicines would not be enough to balance the demands of a corporate career. When that time comes, I shall turn my back on City life but for now these simple pleasures are still a soothing balm and reinvigorating tonic.