This morning in the secret garden. That golden light is one of the best parts of autumn.
There’s more mowing to do, but I’m not sure whether I’ll tackle that today or tomorrow. I’ll wait to see if my perpetual state of congestion clears up. As I look out the window in the den, I see leaves gently falling from the maple. It’s quite lovely. As Don said the other day, “We really do live in a beautiful part of the country.”
Don went to a specialist about his hand. There’s a swelling on the tendon and it’s making it hard for him to straighten his thumb. It’s called trigger finger. Contrary to what he was told before, this doctor wants him to use his hand, to work the thumb back and forth, and to go ahead with all of his activities including playing the guitar. He got a shot of cortisone and will go back to see the doctor in three weeks.
I learned that there are a lot more preview performances for the show than I previously thought there were, including next Sunday at 2 pm. So, I put in a request for two tickets and, if they’re available, we’ll go to next Sunday’s performance, where I’ll take notes. Don knows Jim, of course, and he wants to see the show, so this would be perfect. Fingers crossed!
I finished reading the Simenon this morning and I’ll start Maggie O’Farrell’s newest later today. I also have a New Yorker puzzle ready and waiting.
Since I’m back in reading mode, it’s time to ask a question I haven’t asked for too long.
What are you reading?
Stay safe.
Happy Sunday.