Francesca Beard
Give thanks
Give thanks to the repetitive, the mundane, the boring,
The paying of the congestion charge on-line,
A fine through the post,
Give thanks for the burning of toast, the filing of invoices,
A mistake in the diary leading to a series of uncomfortable phone calls.
Give thanks for it all,
Next door’s baby teething through the night,
Jehovah’s Witness at the door.
Give thanks to the black mark of a bike handle scored against a newly painted wall.
Discovering that voucher for a free haircut three days too late,
Being put on hold, being told your call is important,
Being made to feel stupid by your smart phone,
Give thanks for looking out the window and realizing you left the washing out and it’s raining,
Cutting your finger on a piece of glass while weeding the garden,
Buying something on ebay, the next day finding it 10 quid cheaper, free delivery, 12 month guarantee.
Give thanks for slammed doors and ‘I hate you’ and ‘I don’t care’.
Give thanks for teenagers.
Give thanks for these things on the 26th of April,
Every humdrum day where nothing much happens,
Every ordinary afternoon.
Give thanks.