De Funked

The energy is back, assisted by a glorious Autumn day. It is one of those days when the quality of the light is perfect and creates a sense of stillness as though the plants and trees are holding their breaths as they decide to turn in for the winter. It seems to me to be like the announcement of a pregnancy which happens usually after a period of uncertainty and is then joyously shared before a long period of waiting. I love this season.

Jan Morris also assisted defunking with her most recent book Thinking Again. It is her diary kept in recent years, since the ascension of Trump and as she is in her 93rd year, it is simple and unvarnished and clear statement of herself and what she holds dear. Between the complex simplicity of this book and simple complexity of the memoirs of Patti Smith I think I have a ideal for how I would like to communicate.

My edition of Thinking Again also reminds me that much of my reading pleasure derives from the dust covers and designs and wall papers of books themselves. I find them truly sensual objects and never buy a book when the print is too small or the cover jarring. I also found a picture of Morris taken recently and I thought she looked magnificent. It made me wonder at the nature of the life that must be lived so that at 93 years old you can look directly down a camera and be magnificent. I know that as James Morris she accompanied Hilary and Sherpa Tensing on the first ascent of Mt Everest, and that now as Jan, she lives with the mother of her children and cares for her as she lives with dementia. She reminds me of a lioness.

The other defunking assist today has been the arrival of several pots of Bamboo and tubs to put them in so that they do not colonise my very small yard but provide a screen for a sitting area. This small garden of mine is now a two year project stretched out by my indecision as to what should go where and how. It is now however in its final stages and I am looking forward to the Spring when the newly planted beds have settled in , the seeds are providing the bee and butterfly habitat they have promised and my painted apple crate seats have comfy cushions. Hopefully too the Albertine rose, a tribute to a friend who many years ago gifted me this delight for another garden I loved , will flourish and cover the chook house with its fragrant blossoms. I so hope that by Spring I can share this space with people I love. It will be so very nice to eat, drink and make merry.