Another Day

Ah lah.
Some days are just meant to be blanks for us to fill in. This was one of those for me.
I had help filling in the lines. Old Frederick and his sweet, young smile and four actors and him telling us about a film that he's wanted to make since he was fourteen years old.
We even went to lunch and then I went shopping and bought Owen some new britches. Levi's. Oh yes.
And then I came home and worked in the garden and I talked to one of my very oldest friends, K., who is a muse and someone that I will always love. He is on a vacation and called me and just hearing his voice made me feel, well, worthfull.
He wanted to hear about Kathleen and I told him what I know and then I called Colin whom Freddie wants in a film but Colin has no desire to be in a film. Dammit. You'd think that a man who fell into my crotch for how-many-performances-and-rehearsals would do as I ask but no. Oh well. I guess my delta is not nearly fertile enough.
And I cooked supper and here I am and I have had some weeping.
"You're life is very full," said K,, and I agreed although I said, "I wish my friend did not have cancer."
He understood.

But, yes, here I am and as soon as the dishes are washed I can go to bed again. The air coming through the window above our bed is cool now and I can stack pillows up and grab them to me when I have a hot flash and it is ecstatic- that feeling of coolness against my body.

I saw a painted bunting at the bird feeder today. His belly was salmon, his upper body was iridescent.

And so it goes.
And so it goes.