A bright red tractor just rolled by across the field at the bottom of our garden. A bright yellow butterfly just floated by the window of my little writing room in the garden. Bright, bright day today, the first of the summer to come, and the cherry is finally in bloom. Father is the only one tall enough to detect that fine sakura scent...
I have, as you may know, another major eye operation coming up soon, and as is my wont, I have been packing in SIGHTS. After Ireland, I scuttled off to visit my beloved friends Mary and John in Chichester, and filled my eyes with swans at Bosham, and caught the beginning of lambing season at West Dean College...
I have known Mary since I was 15 years old, and newly arrived on English soil. She was a soulmate of my Father's long before I was born and one of the great joys of our lives has been to hear Mary play Bach, Mozart, Beethoven on the piano (even though she denies any extraordinary talent - "Hang it all, I do have judgment you know!"). I cannot play the piano, so to me it is a magical, wizardish gift.
Last week at the hospital, someone presented me with more magic. A doctor, who recently read my blog, felt moved enough to compose a piece of music - a beautiful, haunting piece, which she permitted me to listen to on the ward. She says I inspire her. She is presenting my case to the British Society of Rhuematologists tomorrow and is going to weave in some of my poems - fame, my beloveds, fame! No longer a number, they will know my NAME! :)
