The painting continues and the kitchen is worse than ever. Tonight's supper was whatever could be cooked in the microwave. Nuked in other words. Hopefully by tomorrow, the majority will be painted and I can get back a bit of order instead of chaos. There has to be an easier way of painting. My hand is not steady when I do little things. So frustrating when what is in my mind does not translate into art. Maybe I need a really small brush. Mum needs to go back to Hobbycraft for more wool (she is still crocheting blankets) so I could look and see what they have. I am rabbitting on here.
It is raining, and I have been to book club this evening. I have always read voraciously, but since Geoff died, I either fall asleep as soon as I pick up a book, or, if I am wide awake, my mind wanders all over the place, and I can't concentrate and have to re-read chapters, and so I am not reading anywhere as much as I want or need to. Never mind the 3 books I have dropped in the bath in the last week. Impossible to read till they have dried out a bit. I have a growing mountain of books waiting to be read, and while it is always nice to know they are there, I really do need to read them. Books are such an important part of my world. From childhood, when I used to read by torch light under the blankets, through every stage of my life. I always believed you could never be lonely when you had a book to read. Enough now. I am off to attempt a chapter or two.
No comments:
Post a Comment