Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Hungry, bags of books and we must wait.

Rosebud -- don't know if you saw my comment on the Barbara Pym post, but I'd be delighted to put my (secondhand) Jane and Prudence in the post to you if you can't get hold of a copy yourself. Drop me an email with an address.

1. So hungry. Bread pudding at 11am. Moist, dark, full of fruit, sanded with white sugar.

2. Sarah brings round two bags of writing and poetry books and tells me to pick out what I want. While we are talking, I remember that it was her who turned me on to Barbara Pym.

3. To lie in a warm bath. I hold my book up high so that at the bottom of the page I can see Baby Badger roiling and writhing across my mushroom white belly. It must be getting tight for space in there now. I can only counsel patience -- eight weeks seems like forever for me, too.

Bud vase, tomato and the poem I needed to hear.

1. Among the faded cut daffodils that I'm putting on the compost heap there is one that will do for another day in a bud vase. 2. For th...