Wild rain and golden apples
Nothing but the wild rain again. Feeling damp spirited first thing and conscious of my chesty cold which seems to be trying to stage a palace coup (croup?) and returning. Lorraine and I walked to the post office in the few minutes it wasn't raining.
I took the bus to see Janet and Ken this afternoon in the rain, and being fed delicious little pistachio balls and hearing some excellent news: Janet's oncologist told her to go away and come back in a year for a checkup. Ken seeming brighter too, and they'd enjoyed a visit yesterday from their previously tumultuous granddaughter, who is now a model of thoughtfulness. What a difference a year makes.
Listening to The Golden Apples of the Sun as an audiobook on the day's travels. I've not read these Ray Bradbury short stories for decades. He is a master of the craft.
Home to the cheering news that I have a poem accepted for a magazine called Under the Radar. What is good about this is that it is a new poem. It's called 'Relic', and I think of it as reasonably enigmatic.
Lorraine, pre-preparing food before skipping off in her striped leggings to her pilates class.
Matt and his new boyfriend Reuben came around for supper. I got to know Reuben better and Lorraine met him for the first time. We really like him, and he and Matt seem to make each other happy. Reuben is highly musical, and shares Matt's unlikely new passion which is allotment gardening. They are going to catsit at the weekend for us too. I don't trust Calliope with Matt. She seems to love him.
I took the bus to see Janet and Ken this afternoon in the rain, and being fed delicious little pistachio balls and hearing some excellent news: Janet's oncologist told her to go away and come back in a year for a checkup. Ken seeming brighter too, and they'd enjoyed a visit yesterday from their previously tumultuous granddaughter, who is now a model of thoughtfulness. What a difference a year makes.
Listening to The Golden Apples of the Sun as an audiobook on the day's travels. I've not read these Ray Bradbury short stories for decades. He is a master of the craft.
Home to the cheering news that I have a poem accepted for a magazine called Under the Radar. What is good about this is that it is a new poem. It's called 'Relic', and I think of it as reasonably enigmatic.
Lorraine, pre-preparing food before skipping off in her striped leggings to her pilates class.
Matt and his new boyfriend Reuben came around for supper. I got to know Reuben better and Lorraine met him for the first time. We really like him, and he and Matt seem to make each other happy. Reuben is highly musical, and shares Matt's unlikely new passion which is allotment gardening. They are going to catsit at the weekend for us too. I don't trust Calliope with Matt. She seems to love him.
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