We have been friends since we were five. Our parents were close friends, and Mary and I went to the same school, for the entire twelve years. Her mother died when Mary was five, and her father died when she was in her early teens. Her aunts then looked after the orphaned family.Mary is probably the person who has known me for the longest time, and whenever we see each other, conversation and laughter never flag, and nor does the affection and love between us. Even though I have lived in other cities since I was first married, and thus visit rarely, our ties and affection endure and flourish.
Back home now and the weather is doing its January heatwave effort, so being outside is not a good idea. Especially for people with fair skins.
Not much happens this month, so there is time to read all the newly acquired books. I finished another wrap for the refugees, in mauve and purple, edged with turquoise, and it is rather nice. The local market is open at the weekend, and there are lots of secondhand dvds and books to buy. The streets are livening up. It is a very pleasant and friendly area around here, lots of smiles and greetings and casual conversations. It is becoming quite hot, so I float around in loose clothing, contemplate my navel, read, and listen to lots of music. My choir recorded a CD late last year, and I have just played it again, and it is indeed rather good. Say I, modestly.
And as for the murders, violence and intolerance far, far away, I recall sadly the words of the great Tom Lehrer: there are some people in this world who do not love their fellow men, and I hate people like that!