I wake up at 6 o’clock. I get up at 6.50. I make a cup of tea and iron my clothes. I have a shower and get dressed. I usually wear jeans, a blouse, a jumper or cardigan and boots in the winter, or a skirt and blouse in the summer. I brush my hair, put on my make-up. I pack my bag with all my teaching materials. I then put on my coat and leave the house. I walk to the bus stop. I catch the bus at 8.15, and then I pay my fare and sit down. It takes about 45 minutes to get to my destination three miles away. I get off the bus and walk to the school where I teach English. I have to sign in and get the key. Class starts at 9.25 and ends at 11.25.
I have lunch at 12. I eat a baguette or sandwich at the local café. I sometimes do some shopping before I walk back to school. I do some photocopying and go back to my classroom. I teach in the afternoon from 1 to 3pm. I then catch the bus back home and spend a couple of hours relaxing before I cook dinner.
My son goes to work shortly after I come home. Sometimes he cooks dinner before I get home, and sometimes I cook. I like to eat rice or pasta with a sauce. I chop the onions, fry them and then mix them with garlic, tomatoes, carrots, spinach and chilies. I boil the rice and then add the sauce. After dinner I wash up, sweep the floor, and tidy up a bit.
The verbal phrase is Unlimited.
Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.
Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,
The vapours weep their burthen to the ground,
Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath,
And after many a summer dies the swan.
Me only cruel immortality
Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms,
Here at the quiet limit of the world,
A white-hair’d shadow roaming like a dream
The ever-silent spaces of the East,
Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn …
