Back to Solitary

 Monday was only twenty degrees, but it was gloriously sunny. 

Lunch at the Surf on so spectacular a day with three long-time theatre friends—Sue, Pam and Patsy—was superb. When I got home, I didn’t feel like working, so I took Sheba for a meander before soaking in the spa.

Summer is ending; I can feel it’s so in the cooler temperatures and moister air. I can smell it in the decay of the brown Grasses and see it in the longer shadows and earlier dusks. It makes me sad to think of the grey skies, long nights and rain ahead. Last Winter felt like it lasted forever and this year we have Covid on top of the dark, cold and wet.

Last evening, I lit the fire. It’s really nice to have a fire at night because it’s cool in the evenings now. And by having a fire at night, I awaken to a cozy and warm home. It’s really nice.

Today, I scrape and brush, lunch and then I go Chantarelle scavenging with Eoin. I’m very excited about his mentoring my education in finding and preparing them. He’s a magician in the kitchen. 

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My phone isn’t working. I can hear callers, but they can’t hear me. So, if you know me, don’t call.

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The visits of five friends is over and now it’s back to my normal life of an endless and open agenda. The entire coming week is predicted to be sunny and, like yesterday, be in the low twenties. The seeding can’t happen, therefore, so I’ll finish scraping the deck and then get onto clearing the natural landscape in the front yard. I’m going to leave it “wild,” but clear out all the decaying material and deadwood. 

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I originally thought I’d try to lose thirty-two pounds. I’m now just six pounds short of that goal but going for more. As long as I feel good and don’t look bad, I’m keeping going.