Signs of recovery

Halfway through another week. Another eventful week!

I think I put a hex on everything I touch - having replaced my computer for the second time, two weeks down the line, it packed up, and needed another Hard Disk and Mother Board. Holy Mother of God. It could only happen to yours truly. But - unlike the senior daughter, my experience of Dell and their back-up was extraordinarily good. So - I am now up and running once more. My head has been bursting with blogworthy little snippets, les bon mots, but now, where have they all gone?

The senior daughter is still in the UK, so she came back from London at the beginning of the week, and we had a little quality time, she cooked a delicious supper, we downed a very acceptable bottle of Bordeaux Superieur, and now she has gone again, like a puff of wind. Was she ever here at all? On Friday, she returns to New York, and I shall be sad. I doubt that I will be able to do my usual pre-Thanksgiving trip this year, even with the real deals being offered by Virgin Atlantic. Seventeen years I have skittered over the Atlantic each November and now, I shall have to live on my memories. Good memories though, I adore New York, and have had some good times there. I was so excited when the senior daughter settled over there.

Today, it is raining again, but I have a positive to report. For once I am not being depressed by the rain and maybe, there is a little chink in my armour, a little leavening of the misery. For the first time for ages, I have had several days when I have felt that I am on the road to recovery. I cannot change what has happened, and suddenly, yes, I will manage. At last - a half full cup.

I have been brought to this point, I reckon, because I have had the support of some very good and kind friends. They must be saints, to put up with me, but, boy, how I have appreciated those friendships.

I am waiting for a lull so that I can take Maud and Billy out for a walk. They are so naughty, I open the kitchen door and boot them out into the garden, they shiver on the terrace, and scratch immediately to be re-admitted. I then have to dive ahead of them to stop them piling onto the sofa in the family room, where they want to tunnel under the throw, mit wet paws, and leer at me screaming at them. Not a wise decision to have a cream sofa in a family room - my levels of stress are off the gauge many times a day. I just love these dogs - since Violet's accident, they have been such good company. When I let them out into the garden early this morning, before the rain came, I watched Billy and he reminded me so much of his mother, I felt a big lump in my throat. He has filled out, and slinks along, head down, tail swinging, just like his mother used to do. It is such a comfort to have him, to remind me of her. I never want to forget her, my kind, gentle, beautiful Violet.