My Time

Its 2pm in the afternoon and this is what I call "my time", it's a time where I can sit with my own thoughts in a place of peace. I sit alone at my kitchen table, with a cup of freshly brewed tea (using a teapot of course) along with my treat, a cheeky cigarette. My small wooden table displays all sorts of memories, from the engraved spellings one of my children accidently left by pushing too hard on her paper, to paint splodges and spilt beverage stains. To many my kitchen table would...
More Description

Its 2pm in the afternoon and this is what I call "my time", it's a time where I can sit with my own thoughts in a place of peace. I sit alone at my kitchen table, with a cup of freshly brewed tea (using a teapot of course) along with my treat, a cheeky cigarette. My small wooden table displays all sorts of memories, from the engraved spellings one of my children accidently left by pushing too hard on her paper, to paint splodges and spilt beverage stains. To many my kitchen table would appear tatty, some may be more polite and say " well used", however I wouldn't have this table any other way. This table to me is where my memories are, from when it was moved into position on moving day, with so much hope and expectations of family meals and idol chit chat. To the cosy Christmas meals where there were too many of us to squeeze around the table. So many memories of the fun filled times with my family. It even displays the actions of my family time with him the husband which at the beginning started with so much promise and enthusiasm, but sadly dwindled down to a broken relationship. Yes, when I sit at this table, I am comforted and taken back in time to my past.