Monday 17th May

Day 28

Tiredness like a throbbing creature has inhabited me all day.

I was stodgy slow in our early morning walk in the green and white park. Even though it was bursting with spring and blackbird chatter and sunshine at last.

Breakfast coffee helped for a while. We sat at the round table in the corner of our favourite cafe and ate scrambled eggs and melting buttered toast. It’s the only place I know that serves homemade marmalade. Today’s jar was a deep honey amber colour, runny as syrup, tangy sweet. With a long spoon on the saucer. I hugged the memory of my own stash of marmalade in the kitchen cupboard at home. Still plenty for Sundays and more to give away.

For a second, at the hairdresser’s, while she shampooed my head, I dipped into a well of eyes closed blackness and forgot where I was.

Late avocado lunch in the sun, I watched the pussy cat stretch out on the grass, daisies tickling his nose. I longed to join him there and to be a pussy cat for the afternoon with nothing to do except sleep till it’s time for supper. And no washing up afterwards.

Luckily the washing up is done now and I can hear the bath running. And I think that was my husband calling me upstairs.