Close up, frailty and tomatoes

Whiskers

Cheerfulness is my chief object in life even when it seems to be a fleeting virtue. I find myself hoping that people will make allowances for its present frailty.

My grand daughter Giselle tells me that when she was in Thailand she was at first offended that people she met repeated the words "tomato, tomato" when they met her. It was only  when they explained that it was in fact a compliment based on her pink complexion, one doubtless encouraged by her initial reaction to their remarks, that prompted the comment.

Story, sunshine and fiction

Every window has a story.

After a bad day Toby and Pippa cheer me up with helpful proposals. This morning I feel better, more cheerful and look forward to day's visitors. The fact that the first thing which I am doing today is bring this up to date is surely a good sign. There are indications of sunshine outside the window.

Neighbour Pam brings me a meal and sits  me down in front of the television with cushions and blankets. I am set up in unaccustomed comfort to watch the new series called 37 Days about the build up to World War 1. It strikes me as ordering and explaining the facts better than the pages of history I have just  been reading. Two more episodes to go. Well acted and well written, it might only be criticised  for its degree of simplification. It  could equally be praised as an example of fiction approaching the truth more precisely that than history itself.

Stories, tests and pies

Another Sitges door with stories to tell from the Archives.

Dr Warr the rheumatic, specialist tell me and son, Toby and friend Milo who form a support team for my medical appointment, that the test which have had over the past few weeks show nothing to worry too much about. I feel better already but more test are needed.  I leave still weak but optimistic. 

As I am still losing weight  and am shown to be slightly anaemic I  am advised to eat food which over the years I am to supposed to avoid. Bacon sandwiches, steak and chips, pork pies. Here I come.

Another Sitges from the archives.

Dr Warr the rheumatic specialist tells me tha

Door, study and danger

Door in Sitges from the archives.

The room where I spend most of my time at the moment I call my study. For a good many reasons I discourage people from referring to it as a office. The function of every office which I used is quite different.

Perhaps because moving around is a problem for me at the moment I am increasingly  attracted by the current sport - called I think parcour -  of clambering over buildings and leaping the spaces between edges and projections. It looks very dangerous but has a nonchalant elegance about it which I find compelling.