The truth is often fudged is it not?
The details we omit can often make a rather glamorous sounding existence come thumping down to earth with a healthy dose of balanced reality....
Case in point
One wakes at seven thirty and rises to start the kettle and brew a steaming cup of tea. One dresses oneself whilst waiting for the kettle to boil and then begins preparations for the green smoothie one has taken to sipping for a nutritional breakfast. One meanders outside through the green and verdant garden to collect the eggs and feed the chickens. One takes a moment to savour the morning air and engage with the birdsong. One feels ever so blessed and grateful.
Details omitted - because lets face it in blogland we can fall in the trap of idealising things, no?
Morning breath... not mine - the pooch who woke me up at seven (bl**min) thirty! The milk spilt when the carton was shaken - Who did not tighten the lid? (It'll be no one of course) The lady-like cussing that escapes when you put BOTH your shirt and your pants on inside out. The weeds and pooch poop that needs tending to. The chicken poop that needs tending to. The fly that successfully entered my nose for a brief second (look away if you're squeamish) only to be killed IN MY NOSE by my violent slap! (which has now left me with a sore shnozz) The dead rat under the decking (very common in these parts and for this time of year) that will now add a genuine "outdoor" fragrance to the alfresco dinner we have planned.
Thank you peoples. You know what they say...
The truth will set you free.