A Monday in winter

My office vandalised by cats this morning. The kangaroo plant on the top of a bookcase had been pulled down and emptied on the floor. Getting on with stuff including turning again to Skelton Yawngrave. For this is the year of completion. Not cutting through with as much clarity as I'd like, however. Lorraine working from home this afternoon.

I spoke to Janet today, and heard from Reuben too. I may be meeting up with one of his sons Jem to discuss ghosts. Ghosts are not discussed enough. The night I saw what was to my mind unambiguously a ghost I was at university studying philosophy. It has always interested me in how nobody in the philosophy common room wanted to discuss the matter at all.

I went out for a much needed walk for an hour or so. Got some keys cut in the afternoon by which time the skies had cleared and sunlight poured down from a blue sky. Lovely to be walking through the park. The sun also gleaming on the half a dozen white caravans and vans of the Travellers who stay there intermittently. One woman spoke to me politely as I passed, the other was beating a rug. Not a lifestyle I envy.

Otherwise little to report. Felt a bit Mondayish, but also a bit limboish. Beth returned from London, with Laura in tow. The two girls a comedy double act when they are together and Beth is in good spirits, with exciting auditions and prospects of work. After Laura went, John arrived later too fresh from band practice. After watching Spiral, Lorraine and I took to bed, and read more of the Japanese novel Kokoro.

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