23March1997

My dear folks,

I write with a somewhat heavy heart as yesterday’s post brought news of the death from cancer of a friend & former neighbour, Les Bitner. He’d returned from Britain to his native California some years ago, although he continued to visit Europe, generally bringing me a book on layman’s cosmology. He had a great interest in the nature of things & was only too happy to talk over a good glass of wine at dinner about the variety of sub-atomic particles & Heisenberg’s “uncertainty principle”. RIP.

Cousin Judy had accepted an invitation to go walking on Sat a.m. The day was perfect. We drove out to Cookham, a favourite haunt of Barbara’s & mine, & set out along the Thames path to Maidenhead. The daffodils were out in their glory, the trees in blossom; the Thames itself was more populated by birds than boats. The season usually begins at Easter & I guess that next weekend the river will resemble a motorway. We stopped at a lock to watch the water boiling in until it settled level with the river, allowing the lock gates to swing open & two river cruisers to continue their upward journey. We continued ours to take tea at our traditional stop on the fringes of Maidenhead. Only the stop, a wooden cabin that for years had leaned alarmingly to one side, had vanished, together with its proprietors. In its place was a smart Swiss chalet tea-room. The tea & cakes, at least, were much the same, as were accents of middle England all around us.

There was a message at home from Richard & Penny – with whom I’d spoken earlier in the week -- to say that they’d got tickets for an early evening showing of “The English Patient” & to come on over. It’s a stunning film; no wonder that it’s picked up such a host of Academy Award nominations. Jones hoped, when I rang her this a.m., that it wasn’t too sad. I suppose that depends on how sad you like your films. Certainly, the tears were flowing freely from one mightily afflicted soul behind me. I do recommend it to you but not when you want a light hearted evening. We dined at a Turkish restaurant around the corner.

The one person whose life has taken a decided turn for the better is the fat hairy sausage. He accompanied me downstairs yest & followed me into Stef’s flat where Poopoo was waiting anxiously for breakfast. Stef’s flat was previously Mave’s favourite place in all the world for Poopoo gets special cat nosh which Mave otherwise never sees. (Previously that is to the arrival of the Jessie, the dog, with whom Mave failed to hit it off.) But Jessie, like her owners, is away this week & Mave was able to saunter in with impunity. Poopoo was not pleased with her visitor & retreated, hissing loudly, into the corner. Let me say no more, other than that I swear that I can see Mavis smiling.

To my disappointment, I discovered that I return to work on Monday rather than Tuesday as I’d thought. That means that the washing, ironing & cleaning that I’d been putting off must be done today, together with a pile of correspondence. It’s a grey day – suitable for such matters – which I shall tackle without further ado.

Blessings ever
T