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Letting go

Dear friends and readers,

I really relaxed today at SpaWorld -- with Caroline. For the first time; we've been there 3 times and the second time I committed a grave sin for which one's first-born may be taken away: I lost my key. I lose things and I get lost. I did much better today, in part because I told myself I don't need to exercise. It was in the exercise machine room that I lost the key last time. Some of the hot rooms are so pretty (one with natural imagery) and the water cure cures.

I had woken this morning curiously at peace. I heard the rain, the pussycats were snuggling in on either side of me, and I seemed to have pleasant thoughts. It was 6 weeks since the Admiral and I last cleaned so we made some 2 and 1/2 hours of feeble efforts (vaccuming, mopping the floors, wiping stuff down, renewed efforts at tidying, floors rugs put into sturdy washing machines), then I did some morning posting (Albert Nobbs by Moore, Prevost's Manon, Charlotte Smith's Young Philosopher), fixed blog, Stevie Smith, Cats in Color and then returned to the Poldark books and read/studied outlines, blogs, about Canning and Liverpool and Peninsula War (for The Stranger from the Sea). I joined the Poldark society. Then out for the afternoon. It was finally cooler today.

After SpaWorld, we went to the cafe in a near-by Whole Foods, and lunched (ladies who lunch?). We came back to my house (after detour to hers) and Yvette was home in time to join in. She looked worn but gratified from her week's effort. The first thing she did is what she always does: took her stockings off.

Tonight too tired to read again so watched Amy Goodman's DemocracyNow.org and one hour of the Forsyte Saga, very powerful (famous rape scene)l, if too transparently melodramatic

Weather will continue to be cooler tomorrow --  not cool, but not so brutally hot and we're going out twice: morning, Farmer's Market, and evening, Wolf Trap to see The Rake's Progress. I'm adjusting slowly. I've worked hard all my life. It takes a real effort to shed the kind of guilt drive that the pattern of working I've kept to engenders.

Sylvia

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