Marguerite arrived at 11.30. I said hi and walked straight out the door. I went down to my favourite cafe, Cocos and had breakfast, poached eggs with spinach, mushrooms and tomatoes. Two coffees and a freshly squeezed orange juice. I avoided buying the newspaper, and buying into the world psycho drama yet again and, instead, I took my first chapter to my novel to write.
I headed outside into the court yard for a cigarette and the rain came down. It was nice, a nice feeling the fine drops of water falling on my face. Refreshing, clean. I lay my head back from underneath the umbrella and felt the drops fall.
Yesterday morning, when I dug down into my jumper basket to retrieve a jumper I hadn't worn for a while, I found jumper after jumper with holes, having been eaten by whatever it is that eats wool. There were white mildewy marks and sleeves and shoulders, ostensibly, missing.
Ah! My favourite black cashmere, my green cable, my blue V-neck, my teal zip up with leather patches on the elbows. The leather patches were in good shape, just every thing attached... my burgundy zip collar was okay, but I'm ditching it anyway, it's always been too big.
I still can't believe it. Some of my favourite clothes.
Spilt milk, can't cry, get a garbage bag and chuck them all away.
I headed into the city for a little avoid-the-cleaner retail therapy, some new woollens and a couple of DVD's, as it turned out. Four new jumpers. A green collared button up, a black, charcoal and pale blue V-necks.
Lovely.
Today, I'm taking mum to the supermarket. You can bet I'll be buying some of those Sheltox Pest things. Of course, I blame it on Marguerite, isn't that her job? Ha, ha, if only.
I can't bring myself to look at my suits in the wardrobe. Eeek!
I'm supposed to be quitting smoking today, but I can already feel myself heading to the milk bar.
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