Sunday, November 23
Today is more of the same. I leave the house once, because I decide that staying indoors all day is foolish. Once I am out I will change my mind about this. I will trudge round the block and back. Because of the cold and wind the few people out are walking with their hoods up and their heads down.
The cat will also decide to go out in the afternoon. It will not return until the evening. Presumably it realised how cold it was and found somewhere to keep warm until it decided that it was dinner time.
I will skim through Facebook, for the first time in a week or so; and then bounce around the web for a couple of hours. Somewhere in the bouncing I will find a video of Neil Young singing Thrashers, which will lead me into an unnecessary thirty minutes of Crosby, Still and Nash videos. This will be a clear indication that it is time to log off and start reading again.
Sitting, looking out at the dark and thinking about Irma and Naa returning tomorrow, and with my head still firmly blocked by flu, I will end up doing very little reading. Instead I will sit thinking about Auo and what we might have done if we had been here while the others are in Paris.
We would certainly have watched the Doctor Who dvd, and analysed it in detail. It is heartbreakingly easy to miss her. Maybe it always will be.