A widow with a nervous disposition, oppressed with loneliness, depression, accepting proffered invitation to come to have some lunch with me. Hard work to keep up conversation
Sea of vivid blue, trees above with new leaves emerging through swelling buds; and cream windflower clusters seem foaming on the swells – woodland flooded with bluebells.
When you’re used to the wet, you don’t tend to let it stop you much, just put on your mack, and wellies, and pack your things in a plastic bag, or sack,
I’m snug and cosy in my bed, and smug not to be outside instead – the rain is pattering and battering windows and trees, and I hug my knees, shiver and grin, – it’s nice to be in,
When is a duty a pleasure, a delightful endeavour? When the recipient’s a treasure, loving, and kind, and you gain such a warm overflowing rich measure of encouragements, joys that remain.