Lydia and I had a bit of a wet walk in the morning, although she was reluctant to let me give her a ‘rub a dub dub’ with a dry towel when we got home.
My friend treated me to a green smoothie- full of nutrients and very flavoursome – and then I had a decaffeinated coffee.
It was busy in the retail park where we met – hard to believe it’s not yet December as Christmas shopping seemed to be in full flow.
I did a bit of shopping after I’d said goodbye to my friend, using a gift card I’d been given to buy a really nice bottle of wine.9
I’m drinking the wine now and it is good. Trying to keep a craving for chocolate at bay – and winning. I did have some cheese puffs earlier so the craving for something sweet will have to wait.
Lydia is chewing on her horn. She showed a lot of restraint when I was eating the cheese puffs earlier, so I’ll take a page out of her book. She’s a good role model, that’s for sure.
Had a good experience at the Bootham & Southowram Methodist Church Christmas Fayre, and sold enough pots to be able to pay cash for a curry tonight, delivered of course.
Enjoying a bit of telly and a few glasses of Malbec now.
Lydia is quite relaxed. She’s had a dental stick and was eyeing up my wine but I do know where to draw the line.
Just finished watching Celebrity Traitors on demand. Don’t know what to watch next but I expect I’ll find something eventually.
Good to know that I don’t have to get up early tomorrow morning. A few more glasses of wine later . . .
I visited my friend today, who now lives in a care home nearby.
She said it was good to see me and it was good to see her too. She tends to put herself down a lot so I challenge her when she does this. She is such a lovely lady, good company, funny and kind.
Lydia and I only had a short walk today, so I’ll make it up to her tomorrow. She doesn’t seem to mind, and is enjoying some evening air outside, barking occasionally. She’s had her tea and I’m enjoying an early evening glass of wine.
As my friend and I reflected together today, it’s the simple things in life that mean the most: a cup of coffee in the company of a friend; a glass of wine when you fancy one; a loaf of bread and some good cheese. Can’t beat it.
After yesterday’s full-on day at the races, I was up at 7.45 this morning to take Lydia for a walk and then go on to a poetry group meeting.
This may not seem anything to write about, except that for me it is. Just a few months ago I wouldn’t have been able to cope with the day at the races, with all it entailed, and it was a struggle to make myself go to a poetry group meeting once a month.
I know full well that I wasn’t the ‘life and soul of the party’ yesterday, but I held up pretty well, and today I was able to take an active part in the meeting, albeit in a low-key way.
There were ten of us there and, those of us who chose to, read out poems that we had written.
One of the poems presented by the organiser, another Maggie, was about poetry with the heading of ‘Trifle’. It was a very clever and interesting poem, drawing on her own experiences.
I read out three of my poems:
Ambitions
Gleeful Wild Outrageous Contagious
Cheerful Fearful Respectful Disrespectful Full
Mad Sad Glad
Cook Read a Book Make Tea
Dance Romance Work Shirk
Naughty Nosy Silly Me.
I first wrote that poem in 2000 and revised it in 2020. The ambitions still apply, and I’m still working on achieving them.
Now
Now at the Pinnacle 14-and-a-half per cent proof point of my existence I’ve reached the Nottage Hill sub-station of my life I haven’t got a Sauvignon Blanc’s clue about what to do next other than to ‘méthode-champenoise’ my way through and hope that if the cork crumbles the bottle won’t be blue and the sieve will be fine so that just for now I can at least drink the wine
I can’t remember when I wrote that poem but it still applies, now.
The Beat Goes On
Pump, puff Pump, puff The beat goes on The beat goes on
Pump, puff Pump, puff The lights are dim The lights are dim
Pump, puff Pump, puff The night is young The night is young
Pump, puff Pump, puff My body moves My body moves
Pump, puff Pump, puff My arm aches My arm aches
Pump, puff Pump, puff The air bed’s inflated I’ve had enough.
That’s another one that was written over a quarter of a century ago, based on an experience of being marooned on a remote Scottish island, waiting for the weather to settle so that the ferry could come and pick us up. It was a wild night, and we had a bit of fun while we were waiting.
The theme for the meeting this morning was ‘something funny’ so I think I contributed some pieces that were at least mildly amusing.
We’re a mixed group and one person read out her first ever poem at the meeting today.
It’s good to be part of this group. And the beat goes on.
Glad About 
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