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A morning Yoga class that focused on hip openers, which I can do! I know I need the ones I can't do more, but it's fun to succeed for a change.
My son calls and we have a great long chat about work, movies, houses, and traveling. He's grown to be such a great friend, and it's so nice sitting and talking while I nibble on the toast left from lunch.
A ride in the country, because I can't walk a lot right now, having some kind of foot/ankle tendonitis and want it to heal before I go to Italy for two weeks in June. I had this before when I used to run, years ago, and dropped back to walking. Ugh. But the ride was lovely. Just a few miles north and the wisteria is still fresh and purple, the dogwood and azaleas just opening. We start to visit one of Bill's friends and the new house is so ostentatious and hideous we turn back. Along the road are gentle cottages I'd love to live in, on the lake. At the filling station I see a former student, such a warm, happy person.
Home to a lovely evening. 85 degrees and cooling--my kind of weather. We grill on the deck and sit late into twilight, watching the candles burn down. The trees are full of leaves, the light is late. This is my time, my weather. The candlelight spills throught the spaces in the table, making diamond shapes on our legs and the floor. We talk about the Triplets of Belleville (we loved it), why Bill's friends went for glamor wives and he for me, what we'll do this summer in Chicago, what's wrong with Condoleeza Rice. The bats go in and the stars come out, and still it's warm.
My son calls and we have a great long chat about work, movies, houses, and traveling. He's grown to be such a great friend, and it's so nice sitting and talking while I nibble on the toast left from lunch.
A ride in the country, because I can't walk a lot right now, having some kind of foot/ankle tendonitis and want it to heal before I go to Italy for two weeks in June. I had this before when I used to run, years ago, and dropped back to walking. Ugh. But the ride was lovely. Just a few miles north and the wisteria is still fresh and purple, the dogwood and azaleas just opening. We start to visit one of Bill's friends and the new house is so ostentatious and hideous we turn back. Along the road are gentle cottages I'd love to live in, on the lake. At the filling station I see a former student, such a warm, happy person.
Home to a lovely evening. 85 degrees and cooling--my kind of weather. We grill on the deck and sit late into twilight, watching the candles burn down. The trees are full of leaves, the light is late. This is my time, my weather. The candlelight spills throught the spaces in the table, making diamond shapes on our legs and the floor. We talk about the Triplets of Belleville (we loved it), why Bill's friends went for glamor wives and he for me, what we'll do this summer in Chicago, what's wrong with Condoleeza Rice. The bats go in and the stars come out, and still it's warm.