Order

I like mismatched grocery in the kitchen. I have white plates. I have while plates with a large green floral pattern. I have white plates with green stripes. I have some that are predominantly green, but have other colours in them. I like an eclectic collection. I remember buying the white set, and the white set with the green leaves, but where did the rest of them come from? I think it is something about the randomness of breakfast? The randomness of breakfast, that sets up the day, the endless possibilities. Or, is it a stand against the constructed order in our life?

It is not a fondness any of my partners have shared. The mismatched plates, not the order of the universe. Maybe, I'm just mean with my money? No, I think I do genuinely like old things. I think this came from getting hand-me-down-clothes from my mother's friends sons. I was the youngest, so pretty much my older brother had grown out of them too, and I'd get the lot. I still remember holding the loot to my face and smelling the other boys, the older boys.

I put the dishwasher on, we're out of bowls. Okay, so it does look as though I am preparing goods for the charity shop. The dishwasher door shuts with a comforting click.

Time to take Buddy to the dog park.