|courtesy the Guardian website|
The day was fast becoming frazzled, desultory. I tried a spot of editing. Progress on the memoir is painfully slow; I recently wrote a chapter about a very sad event in my early childhood about a stray dog and its short and brutal life and death. It took a lot of courage to take this memory out of its hideyhole and look at it in the sharp and unfeeling light of a computer screen. Writing it made me cry for the sad, lonely little child of long ago and attempting to edit the chapter today was a mistake. I must do this when I'm feeling bright and confident, it'll be hard enough even then.
Tomorrow we are having friends to dinner. It is possible that both Kelly and Gardener turn up and I won't have a lot of time to prepare a meal. I shall probably cheat and serve a bought pudding.
I've already made the smoked salmon paté which is part
of the starter, which means that I'll only have to
cook the main course from scratch.
There'll be six of us.
Laying out crockery, cutlery and polishing glasses today
also makes tomorrow less daunting.
To recap: Joy? Maybe not. But I have a kind husband who takes my dog out for me. There are sweet birds to watch. I have the time to take a nap to recover from last night and I have a pleasant evening with friends tomorrow night to look forward to.
And we finally seem to be getting the much needed rain.