Gusty and cold Monday morning. Woke up from a strange dream of eating decaying fruit, near a flight of stairs leading to a flat where I was renting. Cup of coffee in hand, it took me a while to realise today marks 100 days of sobriety. None of my doing, huge gratitude. Let go, let God.
Sent off some tourism copy to Andrew S who said it is too long and wants ‘punchy’ copy, in capital letters. Does he mean punchier, or that my copy is not punchy at all? Dos he know punchy from po-faced?
And David C coming to see me this afternoon about citations (sigh), a visit earlier from Pam S and Jean T – Una’s scones a wild card success. Rising by leaps and bounds like glossy profiteroles. Laughter and neighborliness. I have posted on cyber sites and thought about the easy uncompromising nature of genuine surrender. Wondering why we make life so complicated for ourselves.
Noeleenna called – she has mumps and is sending a friend of hers from the Karoo to talk with me about interiors. Not sure what is happening at work or if I am having supper with Diana tomorrow. Rain belting down outside, a bleak cold front descending from the north.