Most nights I wake up and make a cup of tea half-way through but last night I was pleased to sleep right through even though I did have a bad dream. In it we were back in the old house but outside, Dorothy the cat was cornered by a big black dog. I raced to protect her but when I got there I couldn’t do a thing. I just stood there rooted to the spot, helpless, unable to kick the dog, hit it with a stick, pick up the cat. Strange.
I think it’s a mixture of my helplessness, Dorothy’s bewilderment and the ending of the French horror movie. My shift downstairs has really disturbed the cat. Her patterns have been broken. For two years she’s slept on the bed by my feet. Now it’s Anne’s room. Dorothy has a choice of beds now for Anne’s old bed is now in her study as a guest bed. During the night she patrols between all three and during the day makes do on my new one for I’m usually in the room.
When I managed the jerk back the curtains this morning it was good to see sunshine after several day’s rain. The sky has that striking deep blue look. After lunch Anne took me for a walk around the section and partly down the drive. It’ll be good to get a little fitness back.
The thrushes are busy feeding their fledglings right outside my window. They are busy relaying in their tit-bits. Their presence has been a great source of satisfaction. The territorial conflict with the tui seems to have subsided.
My blog continues to be another source of satisfaction. It’s been a lifeline to the outside world now I’m basically house-bound. Relatives and friends respond and comment. Strangers send me emails about it. Educators though complain there is too much literary stuff and the literary types mutter about all that education jargon. A few have said I should have two blogs, one personal, one political. Others like the blending. It’s all all part of my universe, poems and all. I can see a danger though – repetition and forgetfulness, that item has been discussed or that poem shown before.
Last evening’s meal was guacamole entrée followed by grilled salmon steak and asparagus. Though I don’t eat much quantity it is nice to eat such food fit for a king. I had never eaten avocado until late middle age. Now it is something I enjoy very much.
I’ve been reading Joanna Orwin’s novel Collision, It’s about the French explorer Marion du Fresne’s visit to the Bay of Islands in 1772 and the massacre of him and many of his expedition, an intyriguing topic, part of our history. He spent five weeks here before things went wrong, no one knows why. Maybe he just overstayed his welcome. Orwin tries to suggest reasons. It’s all great material for a novel. But unfortunately Orwin has written history as fiction. Her characters are wooden. Poor author, I’ve just finished Wolf Hall a superb piece of historical fiction. A better contrast is with Fiona Kidman’s The Captive Wife where historic happenings take on flesh and blood and become the basis of a good read in its own right. (write?)
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