Day 75, October 5, 2016 @1:14 pm
Lunch is over. The dishes not quite put away. I always feel overcome after lunch, unable to think or do anything. So I come here to my space with my cup of tea to muse and tap on the keyboard. I feel comforted and not so melancholy, surrounded by light from windows.
Please don’t get me wrong. I am not unhappy or sad. I am not in any dire straits. I am a muse. I am by nature whimsical, sometimes melancholic. I sigh, heave my chest, sip and tap. That is how I am. I poke along at a snail’s pace. By chance I am reading a book about Patricia Highsmith who raises snails. She takes them in her purse with some lettuce to events. The book, The Crime Writer, is a novel. But Highsmith and snippets about her and her life are real.
Highsmith loved cats, and she bred about three hundred snails in her garden at home in Suffolk, England. Highsmith once attended a London cocktail party with a “gigantic handbag” that “contained a head of lettuce and a hundred snails” which she said were her “companions for the evening”. – from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patricia_Highsmith
I hope I’m not like Highsmith, though I have been called eccentric. But I am meandering, straying. Blame it on the weather. Blame it on the snow. It is only October the 5th. It is snowing and still snowing. I am prepared if not quite ready for it. I am not fighting it. It is a good day to sip tea, have a cookie or two, muse, read about snails……
What are you doing today? Is it snowing where you are?