Today’s treat was having a proper conversation with a highly
esteemed person with whom I haven’t had a proper conversation for about three
years. I decline to say who it was but I might add that she’s been no stranger
to this blog since I began it fourteen years ago. And she hadn’t changed a bit
– same commendable lack of make-up and all the lovelier for it; same richest
raven hair which gave genesis to my favourite ditty (although as far as I’m
aware, she never did tie it up with a black velvet band. That was the Irish in
my ancestral line coming out.)
* * *
I set myself five jobs this afternoon and did all of them. That’s unusual.
* * *
The bluebottle count in my house rose to seven today (see previous post.) Where are they coming from? In January?
* * *
My hairdressing appointment was cancelled and I’m beginning to resemble Worzel Gummidge again. Maybe that’s what’s attracting the bluebottles.
* * *
Off to grab another fifty minutes of A Passage to India now. I also have two new books to read. Such an embarrassment of riches to keep me entertained. I worry I might start wandering around in circles wracked with indecision, and be like the Buddhist goat that died of starvation because it couldn’t decide which pile of food to eat.
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