I don't think anyone has written a poem yet about lying on a sofa coughing so I can't find a good poetic title for today's blog. All I have done is manage to get some lunch for us - cold chicken and fried potatoes - do my studying - we are in Judges at the moment, which is quite a frightening book in its way - and put some information about the cross, and its not being a Christian symbol, into my Jewish internet discussion group. Oh and I replied to Jen, plus started my reply to Kathryn.
They have been for a Winter break in Lanzarote, and sent us two lovely cards.
When we were all Catholic Convent Schoolgirls, they used to come over to our house every Winter Sunday afternoon. We used to sit in the dining room, huddled by the gas fire, and talk. And eat oranges. And make ourselves big doorstop sized cheese on toasts.
How long ago that was. And how young our parents were then. And how immense the future seemed, stretching before us.
Growing older throws up new perspectives on everything.