Just seen off the very likeable district nurse Janet, who did what needed to be done then, on my path, had a few words with me.
Words which enlightened and calmed.
She also made me chuckle.
Which, for a busy Monday morning was remarkable, I don't usually do chuckles so early in the week.

While all this went ton Mr H. skated around the garden borders doing a little something or other. He loathes being outside but I don't feel guilty, after all my cup doth overfloweth:(

To keep a smile on my face and hope in my heart I'm reading an anthology of poems called "Staying Alive" real poems for unreal times....
Edited by Neil Astley no relation I suspect to the pop singer whatshisname Astley, you remember...Never Gonna Give You Up...Never Gonna Say Goodbye...Never Gonna Hurt You....
In it are examples of prose poetry which I've fallen in love with. Looks awfully familiar to the type of verse I've been known to write...No rhyming, no iambic tetrameter.
See below*



Absolutely must fly on account of needing to make beef sandwiches, the marinating of chicken thighs and general mismanagement of time.
:)


* On Walking Backwards

My Mother forbad us to walk backwards. That is how the dead walk, she would say. Where did she get this idea? Perhaps from bad translation. The dead, after all, do not walk backwards but they do walk behind us. They have no lungs and cannot call out but would love for us to turn around. They are victims of love, many of them.

Anne Carson


:)