Happiness

 I’m sorry but I’ve just got to say something about Tony Blair’s latest advice to Labour. 

Does he really think anyone cares what he has to say after the Iraq war? after he joined Trump’s “Board of peace”? when he says we should move closer to Trump’s America? 

My response is PSHAW.

Moving on…on Tuesday I had a wonderful and a hot day in Liverpool, visiting my old university friend, Margaret. It was excellent! We caught up some more on each other’s lives from the last 25 years, I met her husband for the first time (though I’ve been reading his Christmas newsletter for 50 years), and we went on the ferry across the Mersey. I couldn’t have my photo taken next to the statues of the Beatles  because we didn’t have the time to queue.

Margaret’s memory is phenomenal. She even remembers an essay I wrote comparing the poetry of Blake to the songs of Dylan. I have no memory of that whatsoever. She also insists I am not an intellectual lowlife. I need more friends like this!

I did some hard work sorting out the garden yesterday and feel pleased with myself. There is more to do, of course. 

I had all four of my paintings accepted for the Ashbourne Art Festival Exhibition.

It’s going to be another sunny day.

Two small boys are coming to visit.

This is how I feel - William Stafford’s poem Any Morning: