Gwen again

Lorraine has a cold, and I am sore throaty and generally out of sorts with a sluggish brain.

Briefly bucked up first thing by having a poem published today in Black Nore Review called Viagra from Vancouver. I wrote it after being spammed by someone called Gwen some years ago. When I saw the name Gwen (with no surname) in my inbox I immediately thought of her. Funny how many poems of mine Gwen appears in. She was proud of her individuality, and had a framed quotation that she frequently quoted which, on googling, I discover is the 'Gestalt Prayer' by Fritz Perls, written in 1969.

I do my thing and you do your thing.
I am not in this world to live up to your expectations,
And you are not in this world to live up to mine.
You are you, and I am I,
and if by chance we find each other, it's beautiful.
If not, it can't be helped.

Chatted with Mum this morning, she's okay. Tobs called her yesterday. I am delaying seeing her till later in the week to not give her my cold, and so I can bring her the calls and text only phone I'm sorting out for her. Also investigated the pendant alarm system which the hospital recommended. Mum was reluctant to take this up, when we spoke, but I persuaded her that it would be good for my sanity if not hers. I called the Lifeline Service from Mediquip, but the pesky office was already closed at 4pm.

Otherwise I did a couple of short walks, listening to my audiobook about the Inklings. I'm not much enjoying this account of their stilted relationships. 

Lorraine out this morning with Maureen, Beth and Enzo at Paradise Park. They call came home for a bit, and Maureen asked me to draw a footballer in the Chelsea colours. She is knitting one for the son of one of Pat's carers. Beth looked blooming and well, and I enjoyed hearing how Enzo is tucking into lots of different foods in his baby-led weaning.

I used this picture of Gwen and me in the back garden. The glasshouse ran along the back of the house. Funny how such small space are so magnified in my imagination.