I’d forgotten that they were going to re-air her Desert Island Discs. It was an old one for Roy Plumley was hosting it. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her voice before. She sounded as I’d imagined, slightly reserved, a Queen’s English voice with her sentences a little clipped. She asked for a case of white wine, German, I think, as her luxury. I forget her book. I liked her. I felt safe with her. She said she wrote in the mornings. If I manage two pages on my typewriter I am happy, she said.
Was I unkind to him yesterday? I told him of it. I smell too. We all do. I’m a little out of sorts. She said that this full moon would be a challenge. Or am I blaming it for my bad behaviour. Another beautiful morning. Fridays are bitty days, I struggle with them. No stretch of time to achieve anything worthy. So be it. What did he say? Accept more, expect less. Wise words, my love. Wise words.
