Trying to be positive
Here are some (more) of the lovely things which have happened to me recently.
To begin with, this is a picture of Marc and Jess's new baby. She is called Frida and I am hugely excited about meeting her when I come home for Christmas. I met their first daughter Leonora the day she was was born, and was bewitched. Jess says Frida looks just like Leo did. They sent me a lovely letter telling me all about her which was a very nice thing to come home to after a long day of work and rehearsals.
My friend Cie is not only a phonetician but also a champion knitter - she sent me a beautiful alpaca-wool snood which she had designed and made in my colours. It appeared through the post one morning and pleased me so much I wouldn't take it off all day, even inside.
Today I spoke to gorgeous Peter, with whom I used to share an impractically laid-out flat and all my secrets and whom I have managed not to talk to since I arrived here. He is a hotshot lawyer and the most sensible man I know, not least because his fondness for babies almost equals mine. We caught up on all our secrets and it felt just as though we still lived next door to the gay pub and never did the dishes.
The nice Parsee man who owns my favourite cafe decided to take me under his wing and introduce me to a Zoroastrian speciality of his wife's making in place of my boring lunch order. It was a scrumptious and eminently replicable confection of spiced veal mince. He says they eat them for breakfast which I perhaps won't try.
I got a letter from my grandmother telling me all the family news. There is nothing like familiar handwriting.
Monday was the most beautiful day since I arrived here. It was autumnally coloured but there was dazzling sunshine and a bright blue sky and it was balmily warm. I spent the whole day perched on the steps on my department listening to Beethoven and Brahms and doing my reading and smiling at people who came past. A handsome man bought me coffee. I drank it with a bar of hazlenut chocolate (my favourite) while sitting in the sunshine lost in thought.
A senior colleague with many far better things to do spent an unnecessary amount of time listening to my trivial work problems and making me feel much better. He also revealed that another even more senior colleague over the pond had been asking after me, to my great suprise, since I wasn't sure he had ever really twigged to my existence. I was rather touched.
Yesterday I was asked out shopping and spent a merry couple of hours trying on beautiful shoes with an old friend. One pair were red suede and as soft as butter and formed the subject of vivid, if short-lived, fantasies of glamour and beauty. For the last two days I have worn patent leather shoes which shine wonderfully in the rain and make puddle splashes a thing of joy. Today I wore my favourite skirt and woke up to a text message from the incomparable Ben, who would have approved the skirt in terms more aptly phrased than any other person alive could manage.
To begin with, this is a picture of Marc and Jess's new baby. She is called Frida and I am hugely excited about meeting her when I come home for Christmas. I met their first daughter Leonora the day she was was born, and was bewitched. Jess says Frida looks just like Leo did. They sent me a lovely letter telling me all about her which was a very nice thing to come home to after a long day of work and rehearsals.
My friend Cie is not only a phonetician but also a champion knitter - she sent me a beautiful alpaca-wool snood which she had designed and made in my colours. It appeared through the post one morning and pleased me so much I wouldn't take it off all day, even inside.
Today I spoke to gorgeous Peter, with whom I used to share an impractically laid-out flat and all my secrets and whom I have managed not to talk to since I arrived here. He is a hotshot lawyer and the most sensible man I know, not least because his fondness for babies almost equals mine. We caught up on all our secrets and it felt just as though we still lived next door to the gay pub and never did the dishes.
The nice Parsee man who owns my favourite cafe decided to take me under his wing and introduce me to a Zoroastrian speciality of his wife's making in place of my boring lunch order. It was a scrumptious and eminently replicable confection of spiced veal mince. He says they eat them for breakfast which I perhaps won't try.
I got a letter from my grandmother telling me all the family news. There is nothing like familiar handwriting.
Monday was the most beautiful day since I arrived here. It was autumnally coloured but there was dazzling sunshine and a bright blue sky and it was balmily warm. I spent the whole day perched on the steps on my department listening to Beethoven and Brahms and doing my reading and smiling at people who came past. A handsome man bought me coffee. I drank it with a bar of hazlenut chocolate (my favourite) while sitting in the sunshine lost in thought.
A senior colleague with many far better things to do spent an unnecessary amount of time listening to my trivial work problems and making me feel much better. He also revealed that another even more senior colleague over the pond had been asking after me, to my great suprise, since I wasn't sure he had ever really twigged to my existence. I was rather touched.
Yesterday I was asked out shopping and spent a merry couple of hours trying on beautiful shoes with an old friend. One pair were red suede and as soft as butter and formed the subject of vivid, if short-lived, fantasies of glamour and beauty. For the last two days I have worn patent leather shoes which shine wonderfully in the rain and make puddle splashes a thing of joy. Today I wore my favourite skirt and woke up to a text message from the incomparable Ben, who would have approved the skirt in terms more aptly phrased than any other person alive could manage.
posted by Scarlet at 3:35 am
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