I'd invited Mary and her husband and another long-married couple for dinner yesterday, to thank Mary for the work she did on my mother's estate, which meant that dealing with it was remarkably easy for my brother and me. We drank a bottle of Dom Perignon and conversation bloomed. It's always a treat when one set of friends becomes friends with another set of friends. We discussed many interesting things, including hearing aids. Sign of the times.
I'm still in a fog - my house buried in stuff, me making stabs at figuring out what to do with it all. Periodically I am hit with sadness - a scent of lavender, a radio program Mum would have loved, an unexpected cache of her watercolours suddenly appearing - and I ache with longing. But mostly moving on, things to do, places to go. Today, across town to visit Anna and Eli, then to Hugh's Room to meet a group of friends for a St. Patrick's Day party and band. It snowed again this morning, putting to bed any thoughts of an early spring.
I hope you'll forgive all those shots of my grandson in the last post. I am so very in love.