The Colours of my Day

Wednesday 27th October

Day 189

I text my husband sorry for being grumpy and curt this morning at breakfast. I say it’s because I’m anxious about my father’s doctor’s appointment and because I saw the black cat by the back door and I’m afraid he’ll start scaring our pussy cat and the whole spraying thing will happen again. ( I did throw an empty plastic water bottle in his general direction - it was too early to shout in the garden - but he took his time to saunter off and leap over the fence.)

My husband sends me back love in a text. I let my worries sit beside me in the car and every now and again they change colour and fade from black to pearly grey.

In the surgery waiting room my father tells me he’s preoccupied with the difference between chance and design. I say I don’t think things are ever a coincidence.... the people you meet. He calls me a fatalist but I can’t explain how I think everything is connected. We laugh a lot too. The doctor writes him a prescription. I feel lime green with relief.

It’s a shining bright New England afternoon and on the way to the park I walk through the quiet half term streets, bending to pick up samples of the dry bronzed leaves scattered on the pavements. I want to identify them in the tree book when I get home.They are like the colours of the new carpet I’ve chosen for my study - crushed autumn leaves flecked with the red earth of Africa. To remind me to keep my feet on the ground and my judgements light.