Our guests leave for Hwange. The little girl wants to take Tallulah with, but I don't think the poor dog would last two minutes in the wilds of a national park. Apparently, the children have been keeping a diary of their trip and Rolo and Tallulah have featured in their latest entry.
It's interesting what effect the meditation has had on me for I suddenly decide I am going to sort out our small spare room where we keep all my parents' things - boxes and boxes of ornaments, letters, linen and crockery. And nail clippers. For some reason, my parents had at least ten nail clippers. I take everything out the room and condense it into fewer boxes, taking some of the things out which I know can either be given away or sold. Last time I looked through the things, I ended up in tears over every single thing, but today I am a lot more calm, although it is still very hard. The funny thing is that at the end of it all, I feel as though I have been talking to my mother. I have a strong sensation of having just got off the phone to her.
We wash all the sheets from the cottage and I insist that we call Eunice in tomorrow to clean and do the ironing. John seems to think he is some one-man band at the moment, doing everything. Not only is he overworking himself, but I also don't want to be rushing around at the last minute as we were on Friday.
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