Cup runneth over this morning. Sun shining though it's chilly. Lungs still hurt but whatever, as they say. Friend Shari is coming over soon for brunch. And on my computer this morning were these delicious gifts:
A writer friend who'd asked me to edit some pages of her manuscript did not respond after I sent them back to her. Finally, afraid I'd hurt her, I wrote to ask if my edits had not been helpful - I really wanted to know if I'd done something wrong. She just wrote, "Heavens Beth I'm so grateful for your comments -- and embarrassed that I didn't acknowledge them! Thank you so much for taking the time and trouble to think about the writing and give your feedback: it is so much appreciated! I will take everything you say to heart, you can count on that."
Okay, one less thing to worry about.
My friend Grace, a U of T student who helps me with social media and throwing stuff out, wrote to say she has time next Friday. YES! Friend and student Rita sent pictures of Beatles from China, where she's visiting right now. Others, including dear friend Gretchen, wrote sending good wishes to my sick self.
And then this - Curtis, who listened to half my manuscript yesterday, wrote:
It's a wonderful book, beautifully and eloquently written, with a fascinating story that draws the reader in and generates empathy, sympathy and emotion. It's got great humour in places too. I am pleased you feel my comments were helpful. I most certainly want to hear the rest of the story.
Now, I must remember he is an old friend and now also student. But still. Thank you, thank you.
And finally, this greatest of gifts, sent with Mother's Day wishes:
I'm going over there this afternoon. My body may not be in perfect shape but my heart certainly is.
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