A Friend Indeed

This is the present I made for Joyce, for being a very good friend. It's a toiletries bag, because she often goes away for weekends.

It's the same material I used to make her skirt. I lined it with mustard, (what I hope will be) waterproof material and pulled it all together with cord and a toggle. Inside I put two empty bottles for shampoo and conditioner, a soap dish (with some Sanctuary soap) and a toothbrush holder.It was well worth it to see how excited she was opening it.

Over the last three years, particularly, I've become very sensitive to kindness, and lack of it. Maybe it's to do with getting older and dealing with a broader range of life's challenges (how euphemistic is that!), but kindness means a lot to me. And Joyce is one of the kind people in my life.

It's to do with honesty as well, and not judging people.

Moving on.

It's just me and Meg at home tonight as Hagos is at another awards ceremony in London. She always cuddles up on my lap when it's the two of us. I think she feels usurped by Hagos when he's home. She has such a sweet, triangular face.

I read the very beginning of The Secret History in the bath tonight. I love the prologue. The distillation of the narrative. The language, scene-setting and rhythm is concise, like poetry.

I want to read a grown up book after my children's books outing and thought of reading My Little Friend, also by Tartt. I've begun it twice before and only got through the first fifty pages. It's dense. I'll give it another go. I have to read the right book at the right time.