A weird day…

My gardening friend dropped in today. I knew she was coming but was totally unprepared when the door was knocked. She lets herself in, but Martin was home, unusually, and he welcomed her.

I have been cold today again. Tomorrow is meant to be 18 C. If it is, I will go around the harbour.

The cannabis disappeared after I ate some twice. If it fell, or Martin took it I have no idea.

I am desperately trying to reduce my use of electricity. My last bill was horrendous, and I am a low user. Of course, Martin adds to the usage. It is hard to gauge the difference.

My cousin phoned and was horrified at how my surgery treated me. At least I won my complaint.

My editing suite is looking horrified at the tone here. It’s not my tone though but certain words trigger it.

I’m grateful for my garden and my friends. I find joy in my plants, and the birds.


For Jane

A poem

A flash of lightning
His life was gone
Hurled up in the air by a car

Ragdoll-like, puppet with no strings

Without knowing, in that second
She was bereft
Rap rap on her door, police
He’s cold an hour now

Cards flowed in, meaningless,
Her love was gone
She was a puppet on a string
Thank you for coming

No sophistry for thishow could she
Plan to be a widow?

Hurled up in the air her life
How does one proceed without her late- no,
Her dead husband

Published in The Lark