Miriam Simut’s Reviews > Mrs Tim of the Regiment > Status Update

I adore Tony. That is all. :)

"...you'll have no further use for us... Once that husband of yours is here, we lesser mortals will have to take a back seat."
I reply primly that Tim and I are old married folk, and completely inured to each other's charms.
"Look at her Mother - she's blushing," says the dreadful man with a grin.
"I'm not blushing," I retort indignantly. "My skin is so fair that when I eat tomatoes they show through." 😂

"Papa always used to say 'laugh and grow fat' - I dare say YOU are fond of a good laugh, Mrs. MacTaggert," says Mrs. Falconer, with an eye on our guest's ample proportions." LOL

We slip back once more into the clear water, and become part of its radiant life. It is so easy to float on its cool surface, to turn over like a lazy porpoise, and feel the salty buoyancy of its embrace… There is too much to see, and I want to remember it all so that I may store it forever in ‘that inward eye which is the bliss of solitude’.
I love the Wordsworth reference 😍

“Turf of emerald brightness, starred with tiny flowers, edges the bay, and stretches back to the hills, where the young larches stand in patterns of pale green flame against the smoky shadows of the pines. The sea is trembling as the mist lifts and eddies, the gleaming patches of sunlight spread and merge, and their surface is ruffled by a faint breeze from the west...

“… the night sinks into velvet peace. I kneel at my window and gaze into the sky - a deep blue, glowing canopy above the dark, lacy branches of the firs. The stars glimmer like tiny yellow lamps. There is no sound save the silver tinkle of the burn, and, far off amongst the hills, a lamb bleats once and is quiet.”

This second section of the book set in rural Scotland has been so delightful and I can't stop reading!!

"The sound of falling water... grows louder until our ears are filled with the thunder of it and we see the river disappear over a rocky precipice and fall in several green billows...There is something almost terrifying in the relentless way the river... plunges down amongst flying spray and creamy foam. The spray is full of rainbows and drops of rainbow hue sparkle upon the feather fronds of ferns...

"My thoughts drift across the garden and hang upon the trees like fairy lights, or curl upwards and vanish like the smoke of Burnside chimney. I can take a thought from the cupboard of my memory just as I take a dress from my wardrobe - give it a little shake and put it on or fold it away ... A bee drones past seeking honey in the golden bells of the daffodils..." (cont. below)

The train is late in starting, having been delayed by the arrival of a large family with mountains of luggage. Nobody minds the delay, there is a happy-go-lucky feeling about the whole affair... I can imagine the engine looking round like a fatherly old horse: ‘You all ready, people?’ it enquires kindly. ‘Quite sure you haven’t left anything behind? Well then, off we go.’
😍