Day 652: Gulp

I'm in the process of being swept off my feet by Tom Waits. From years ago... that deep gravel voice and unstoppable dirty sound. Just delicious. I'll make it my job to stock up on those albums and see what can be learnt and savoured. 

over-ambitious on the gulping front

After another few days away, the pond has coloured itself still more. The willow is reaching its fingers further and further towards the water, and looks almost fully summered, while the other trees are dressing themselves more slowly. More than shimmers, now, though. See-through outfits, but still a lot to see. There are four red tulips sitting beneath a white-blossomed tree that borders the little field. This is where I changed today, looking out over the sparkling bird pond and sunbathing women, complete with goose pimples. 


The kingfisher dropped by. He looked extra turquoise today, and took his time. I caught a cormorant gulping down a little fish. I've seen them dive and surface many times, but this is the first live meal I've witnessed. There were insects aplenty and lots of birds and ducks. The ladies were out in force too. Even they seemed more brightly coloured. 

Uninvited, though prompted by a conversation, someone announced to me today that there was no more than a hair of hope for me that I'd ever have a child. She said I'd better  give up any thoughts of that and look into adopting right now - an older child who'd been through hell - she thought my background would give me good credentials. She may be right. I reeled a bit, though, at the bluntness of it, and the thoroughness of the active disillusioning, and it's on my mind now. There's a little melancholy kicking about since that. I'm sure it's good to have that brought up so clearly. I could focus on her brick-hurl approach, or on the message and its intention, and the emotions they bring up. Yes, that's both to be grateful for and to be felt, whether that feeling is possible to label 'good' or not. 

The sun shone hard and long today. I'm sure you noticed, if you were in London. I haven't checked any forecasts, so I have no idea what it's been like in the rest of the UK, let alone elsewhere. I finally made it to the library in Stoke Newington. A man helped me at the auto-return thingy. Tickling the back of my memory is the idea that perhaps I have been on a date with this man, a good few years ago now. He seemed familiar somehow, and I think there was someone who worked there who I met with once. I got the sense he'd recognised me. My recognition popped almost at the end of the conversation and solidified as I was walking away. I didn't go back. I left feeling a little silly and confused. 

There have been so very, very, VERY many wonderful things in my life since I last posted. It's impossible to list them. They range so very far, from wonderful jobs and friends to Danish joy, Copenhagen, Steen Haakon Hansen, the best-faced man there is, Kati Schweitzer and her Flicka girl, mask and playing, good, old friends and new ones and a young man, tall and bendy like pulled rubber, a girl with the sweetest eyes and open face; beauty and precision like I've never seen before in the whole of my life and music, music, music. We made a piece of theatre that made the audience sit on their hands and hate us for it, and I was very, very pleased and proud of us all for that. 

I am on my knees with it all, as always, in gratitude.