Life goes on - I have been on my own for nearly a year now, and until the tragedy of Violet's accident I was beginning to think I was coping rather well. But coping means dealing with everything that life throws at you.
The house seems in mourning - funny how a much loved animal leaves a presence even after death. Billy is inconsolable most of the time - but because he is still only a very young dog, he seems suddenly to forget to be sad and charges after a fly or chases his tail. When I played tennis this morning as I usually do every Monday morning, he sat mournfully by the court most of the time, until he forgot to be sad again and charged off. Animals are a joy and a comfort.
I am sitting in my kitchen with the French windows open, Wimbledon on the television,
it is a quintessential English summer evening in the depths of the countryside, and it is difficult to be sad for long. I am actually rather enjoying the single life -I am musing over a wonderful book my daughter brought back from New York for me, called the Painter, the Cook and the Art of Cucina by Anna Del Conte and Val Archer, and wondering what I shall cook tomorrow evening when friends come for supper.
There is a large bowlful of my favourite scented roses from my garden in front of me, Souvenir du Docteur Jamain and Madame Alfred Carriere - a glass of Cotes de Provence rose at my elbow - perfection really. This really is a new beginning for me after 43 years of a marriage that was less than perfect, but which produced two quite wonderful daughters, feisty, independent, beautiful, intelligent and a total joy. I am so proud of both of them.
Wish me luck
1 hour ago