I find myself muttering that on impulse, at fairly regular intervals these days- the closest thing I get to actual prayer. It’s a reminder that no matter what trials in which I find myself entangled, help will arrive. All will be well.
I’m not going to talk about Las Vegas. The internet has it covered. I’m just not going there.
There’s the most glorious breeze wafting through the window just now. We’ve had some roller-coaster weather here (again) and today is a typical cold-morning-glorious-afternoon autumn day. A sweater-on-sweater-off day, as we like to call them in this house.
B finally took the hummingbird feeder down for me — it had become wasp central and therefore off-limits to allergic ol’ me. I’m feeling the height of decrepitude these days - my dodgy shoulder, my gammy knee and my inability to cope with wasps. It doesn’t seem like much, but for a person such as myself who has always laughed in the face of physical limits, who has enjoyed robust good strength in this small, but mighty, physical form, it’s enough to give me pause.
It’s one of those, don’t-take-things-for-granted sorts of lessons. A cosmic finger-wagging, if you will.
It makes me very Thinky.
Anyway — we ran out of internet at the beginning of the week and I've been quite content to live mostly analogue. It was a good week to avoid social media, anyway.
What it has been, is a good week for reading and watching Vera and filling up the bird-feeders and making soup (gingered carrot, if you’re at all curious - very delish).