Today is April 14, and the first day since March 1, that I have not had a Dick Francis book to read. An unread one, I mean, since I have about twenty DFs hanging around the house, but they have all been read by me. In fact, I think there are only two left for me to read. Whimper...These books are some kind of good, too, whether they are mysteries or revenge stories -- really, the only two kinds he writes -- they are good and very magnetic. Very. On March 16 I wrote a note to my mother saying something like "As I begin reading my eleventh Dick Francis novel..."
Today is also April 14, the day after my son Joe's birthday, since he turned nineteen years old yesterday. Wahoo! And he is trying to make a new start, with his schooling, and his housing and his uncle and his money and his drug use. So I should be glad about that. And glad that he apparently doesn't want to lie to me for any length of time, since he certainly will lie to me. Can't tell you how awful that makes me feel, sort of a sucking away feeling of all that is good between us, since if he will lie to me, then we have no relationship. But then on the other hand, (brave smile) all teenagers lie to their parents, especially about drug use, and he did tell me about it, just not until a month later. Whimper...
Today is also April 14, three days after Doug's father died. Yup. Poor man. He was trying to get the obituaries put in the newspapers today, AND get his father's belongings packed up and moved out of his condo, AND meet his uncle who was flying in for the funeral. AND it was raining. AND Nameless Agent was there with his baby daughter, milling around and taking up time.
Today is also April 14, my cousin Rhys's birthday. He would have been 45 today, if he had not died a week ago. The same age as I am. My silly brown-haired cousin with the sideways smile, and the endless stream of ridiculous sounds and made-up words and annoying noises. What was the one? "Eeeee - shneebert!"Today is April 14. And I feel that I deserve a cup of tea.