There’s been a light rain on and off with a mass of grey clouds hovering over the city for a few days. It’s just as well I had stirred up from a spell of fatigue early in the week or the chance of the dim days accompanying my somber moods would not help me at all.
In my revived state, I sought much comfort over lovely photographs of places and interior decors, settled in with a volume of Mary Stewart, ate brownies and balls of chocolates, listened to calming familiar songs and watched Anne of Green Gables and North and South (for the nth time). Yesterday, I started a poem with something else in mind, only it ended up into something else altogether. I had to laugh at myself for the many times this happened.
This weekend, there is a glimpse of Marrakech, a Goodreads interview with Margaret Atwood (I have yet to read her and, as often happens, berates myself for not making time), Paris corners and hidden alleyways by 8 rue Caffarelli and Amy’s journey to Spain through her instagram. I look forward to the merry days of December by tomorrow.
Have a happy weekend!