What's Good for Me?

6th September 2011 Tuesday

My father sends me a sweet card - a black button eyed baby seal on the front - encouraging me to keep on writing. His words make me cry - his belief in me, that it’s all worth doing, that he cares..... Especially as tonight I feel empty of words.

My sister comes and whisks through my toppling in-trays with wonderful lightness - creating simplicity and order out of my paper chaos. I’m glad to be warm inside while our husbands are buffeted about in the gales high above the sea on the cliffs at Branscombe.

I break the two week sweetness ban this evening - the remains of the blackberry and apple crumble from yesterday’s lunch - such a glorious syrupy claret red - calls to me from the fridge and I accept the invitation. But I still feel guilty. I’ve been struggling with this free from everything I love diet. I’m doing it to support my husband - but as a dear friend said it doesn’t help him if you are resentful. I’m trying to disentangle what’s good for him and what’s good for me - not always the same thing.

Now the wind is rattling my sash window, sneaking in through the casement gaps, making the curtains billow out and blowing round my ankles. Long, light summer nights forgotten in this September howling.