I had originally planned to work at my art studio today, but the body wasn’t cooperative, there was that too familiar unpleasant detachment of mind and corporeality again, as the pain returned. After walking Miss Lucy, my back began to throb with a rhythmic savagery that would rival Stravinsky’s Le Sacre, though it probably wasn’t quite as refined in its delivery. The weather is still glorious, though, and that helped my mental mood greatly, despite the physical struggle. We spent a bit of time in the balcony, I did a bit of reading, and Lucy napped. I’ve hit on an optimum design for the space, so that Lucy would be more comfortable. Layering is the key: first, an old foam doggy bed, then a lightweight fluffy rug, and finally the sheepskin rugs. Lucy loves it, and I love the sight of her basking in the mild morning sunshine, her coat shining and glistening in the dancing light.
The Princess remained outside, enjoying the warmth, while I made lunch. I didn’t feel like cooking, so I just boiled some mung bean vermicelli (glass vermicelli), and made Vietnamese style rice paper rolls for lunch. There was thinly sliced carrot, cabbage, and shredded leftover chicken. A light meal on a dull, thudding uninspired day.
An old song was playing in my mind, a sweet, almost sappy, little number by the late John Denver. The timbre of the guitar and his voice wound around my head like silvery lace, I could taste the honeyed strands. It’s not usually my favourite kind of music, but for some reason, the song stuck throughout the morning.
Here it is.