This morning I give a vegetarian cookery lesson in my kitchen to the wonderful archangel friend who supported me and Robin with all things technical, practical and legal during the darkest days of his illness. He goes home with bowls of supper for his friends tonight.
Later, I tackle another layer of history and memory and dust in Robin's office. Luckily the banging and drilling of the workmen next door muffe my howling as I'm scoured out yet again by the guillotine loss of him and the echoing void of me....drizzling myself into the carpet where the wheels of his chair have left it threadbare.
When I can't clean any more ...his desks ....his filing cabinets...the walls where he stuck up photos and post cards and inspirational words, I take my camera into the park in search of beauty and cold relief.
On the way back I buy yellow and amber tulips and white chrysanthemums at Waitrose and fill the house with vases of spring colour.....ready for the filming tomorrow.
I make a bowl of pasta and Parmesan and garlic comfort for supper.
But tonight all my positive affirmation chanting ..... and counting my blessings.... don't cut the mustard - as my father used to say.
And it just keeps leaking out of me....a fresh wellspring of mourning.....that I thought was drying up.
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