Thursday 11 February

Beep! I drifted off back to sleep…Beep! At 5.30 Rod got up to remove the battery from the smoke alarm. When the battery is dying, it very helpfully starts beeping to let you know. Why this always happens in the middle of the night is one of the world’s biggest mysteries.

I started my day with an exercise class, but after that, I had no particular plans. Should I clean the windows? Polish the piano? I did neither of course, but made a phone call which is always much more fun than housework, where the word torpid was expressed. I think this is a great word, and although it conjures up images of lying in the sun with nothing better to do than sip a cocktail and read a book, the definition says sluggish, lethargic. And I think that sums up how I felt today, in general.

Idly looking out of the window this morning, I caught sight of the local wild life.

Mr Fox walking across our garden and

the two deer in our neighbours’ garden. But I stood and watched where they came through a small gap in the hedge, and this afternoon I put up what I hope is a deer blockade.

I feel guilty about being inert, especially when the sun is shining, so I went for a walk on the path through the golf course, which was still remarkably slippery as the temperature never rose above -2C today. I did 3 miles in the end. People are very willing to have a little chat, mostly about the weather and snow conditions, but I feel cabin fever is setting in fast: a few more fine days and everyone will be down in Brighton.

I have now almost finished my John le Carre novel, Absolute Friends. I have been reading it in short snatches which is not a good idea, as I can never remember who is double crossing who. But I’m getting there now. Most of it is set in Germany or Austria which I enjoy very much. The hero is meant to be a tour guide at Linderhof, which I have visited. Very nice descriptions. He is an ace story teller.

By way of a change I leave you with a poem by W B Yeats, which I had to learn by heart in school, and recite in a competition, which honesty obliges me to reveal, that I won. I like cats, and I like moonlight, so perhaps my passion came out in the recitation.

W.B. Yeats

The Cat and the Moon

The cat went here and there
And the moon spun round like a top,
And the nearest kin of the moon,
The creeping cat, looked up.
Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,
For, wander and wail as he would,
The pure cold light in the sky
Troubled his animal blood.
Minnaloushe runs in the grass
Lifting his delicate feet.
Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?
When two close kindred meet,
What better than call a dance?
Maybe the moon may learn,
Tired of that courtly fashion,
A new dance turn.
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
From moonlit place to place,
The sacred moon overhead
Has taken a new phase.
Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils
Will pass from change to change,
And that from round to crescent,
From crescent to round they range?
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
Alone, important and wise,
And lifts to the changing moon
His changing eyes.

5 thoughts on “Thursday 11 February

  1. I like torpid. It’s how we feel. And I like the word spuddling too. It’s sort of faffing about aimlessly. Too much of that going on. Spuddling about.


    1. Well I have never heard the word spuddling, but it is great! I looked it up:
      According to the Your Dictionary online, the verb ‘spuddle’ means ‘to make a lot of fuss about trivial things, as if they were important’. The online Urban Dictionary takes this further, telling us that spuddle is a West country word meaning to waste time and not get on with the task in hand.
      I feel a great deal of spuddling coming on today: many thanks for widening my vocabulary!!


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