Acceptance phase

I got up bright and early today, and got to work, completing the 13th chapter of Skelton Yawngrave. I sent off a story to David Longhorn of Supernatural Tales too, just to keep my hand in.

Lorraine up and, with a steely glint to her eye, started going through drawers in the bedroom, and together we had a cull of old shoes, and reorganised everything. Behind Lorraine's shoes there was a dried frog, which made L shudder as the vacuum sucked it up.

In the afternoon chilled out out with Lorraine in the back garden.  She is finishing a cross stitch based on a Van Gough painting. Beth caught the bug and cleared her room for a bit too, then assembled a coat stand she had ordered in the back garden with Lorraine's help.

I had one of my yellow pads, which I use to put daily to do lists, and track my various projects, a list I update on a new sheet every couple of days. I hadn't done it since the 23rd March, which was a little sign to me of how disrupted I have felt. Quite often lately I have been settling into what is probably an acceptance phase, while I was working before because that was helpful to stop me feeling twitchy, I am gradually feeling a little better at concentrating again.

It was very hot today, so we came in late in the afternoon, whereupon I simply fell into a deep sleep on the sofa listening to The Lord of the Rings.

At 5:30 ish went out side again. A call from Matty boy, who called to thank me for my help on the recent pitch, which had been won. Matt, was settling down to family barbecue in his back garden, and commencing a glass of wine and it was good to talk to him. Heard that Pat, my old pal from the Hampton agency, had actually been in hospital for a few days with Coronavirus.

Lorraine and Beth made some Pimms, and I had a beer and we FaceTimed with Rosie and Innis for a bit, from he garden. Then inside, with Beth making her excellent chicken wraps. We played Trivial Pursuit and another trivia game afterwards, and I won every game, not necessarily a fast track to popularity.

Below a snap of the part of the garden we call little Guernsey, for no particular reason, other than the little patch of daisies that reminds us of St Peter Port Daisies.