Normal service is now resumed:
Postie woke me early this morning (7.30am) with the books from Amazon (the Spike DVD is delayed, they did under-order) and the first flurry of snow. Big mislead from MWNN, he told me all the books were for me. Well, I can see why he bought Godden's In this House of Brede, fearing, as he did, that I was going to stay in the nunnery when I was researching the book. But why Dawkins' A Devil's Chaplain, unless he thought my screen name might tempt me to read it? And I certainly don't want A History of the Arab People, I've got enough history on my hands with the Stuarts, at the moment thanks very much.
The dog walk ended just before the second snow attack struck, the first having melted long before I set off. Have I said how much I hate walking the dogs alone? I did it for years before MWNN retired and it took me a while to adjust to his stroll when he first started walking with me. Now, I rely on our talks to get me motivated for the day's work ahead and help me centre myself and get the priorities sorted out.
Priorities are all to pot now. I'm suffering a surfeit of niggles and, instead of sorting them out, I'm just feeling incredibly guilty about being niggled by trivialities. You see, my friend and neighbour (yes jennylyle it's the hairdresser) has her mother living with her since early February, because she's dying of cancer. She's feeling guilty because she can't care for her mother properly and yet she can't bring herself to let the hospice take care of her; Italian daughters just don't do that, they care for their parents at home. E looks like shit, she's almost at the stage of total exhaustion and here am I whinging because I've not slept properly for a couple of nights and am behind on my uni assingment.