8th July 2012 Sunday
The sun is warm on our backs as we walk in pine woods - as if all yesterday’s rain never fell out of th sky and swamped the fields and drowned the streets of Ottery St Mary.....
Andy Murray doesn’t win but I change my mind about him after he shows us his heart in his tears on the court ......
The pussy cat eats a little and drinks a little but he’s all knobbly bone under his fur....under my stroking hand as he lies between us on the sofa.......
A sense of waiting hangs around in my cells......waiting for something to happen.....not sure what ......maybe something bad.....so that I feel paralysed to do my ordinary life.....like clean the bathroom, tie up rampant honeysuckle wands in the garden, put away my clothes, answer my emails......
Now I’m listening to my husband coughing and hawking downstairs.....a constant backdrop sound where ever I am in the house - like a window come loose from its hinges, banging in the night.......
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