8th August 2012 Wednesday
It’s a good job we went to find the place where the Tribunal is going to be tomorrow. Actually in a lovely quiet complex of buildings surrounded by trees. Not at the more intimidating Law Courts. We deliver the GP letter that got missed out of the original documents when they were faxed. It may be too late but I don’t mind any more. About any of it. Whatever the outcome I just want to have my life back without this looming thing gnawing away in my head like ants building a nest - their tunnels reaching further and further into my being.....
It’s unbearably hot and sticky in town - especially as I have my cagoule slung round my waist - it was raining when we set out this morning. I know he doesn’t need it but I buy my husband a new shirt to wear for the wedding.
Wonderful to have an afternoon of baking - whisking up vanilla meringues, sieving blackcurrants for the parfait, squeezing lemons for the cake. In my ideal world I would devote all afternoons to baking and recipe-reading, spoon-licking and wafting sweet aromas around the kitchen.
Tonight I am introduced to our next door neighbour’s new kitten - only eleven weeks old - a silver and white tabby mysteriously called Tiger. Her tiny white paws are pristine and she wriggles and purrs in her owner’s arms - so full of verve and bounce. I remember when our pussy cat was like that - and to misquote A A Milne’s poem about Pinkle Purr and Tattoo
‘a little silky nothing of feet and fur.’
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