Weather - and a Poem

Yesterday morning was stormy, with pelting rain, so I didn't even bother to get ready to go out, and was on the internet talking to an American friend who is housebound, when I realised it was actually clearing up and so I should be out on the field service.  I hurtled about (in a slow sort of way) and managed to get the Hall albeit a bit late.

Benedicta and I worked for an hour and finished our road. We had a couple of very interesting conversations, and one lady said we can call back at the weekend!  So we were both glad we got out.

The afternoon was taken up with making a big casserole from the lamb we ordered from Abel & Cole. It was good - and we will order it again. Maybe Jacks will get a lamb curry the  next time she comes for supper.  Though I feel worse and worse about eating meat...

Very odd weather - cold/sunshine/snow/hail/rain.  It does need to get cold and stay cold though, or the birds and the bees are going to get confused.   Apparently a brood of ducklings has already been seen locally.

I have been re-reading Jean Rhys' "Quartet". She is a wonderful writer - wonderful - but a bit of a Moaning Minnie.  And I remembered, in my poetry writing days, being surprised to realise that, as Jean was coming to the end of her life, down in Cornwall, I was just beginning mine - and those very early holidays in my Granny's house in Cornwall were magical times.

So I wrote:

(Can't think of a title)

I can’t believe Jean 

That you and I

Were in Cornwall together

You write of freezing March weather

I can remember only sun.

To be fair, we would not have been there in March. And the end of life is difficult. We were not meant to go through all this, to wither and die in a few short decades, and even though I am full of hope, I too am something of a Moaning Minnie about it sometimes (without the brilliant writing to compensate).