March 8

I wake up tired and cranky.  John is already up and making breakfast for our guests.  He tells me to go back to bed, but I cannot go back once I am up.

It's one of those catch up days of laundry, sorting through things that seem to accumulate during the week and, every teacher's nightmare, marking.

While I am hanging out the washing, one of the guests appears and says that they don't want the cottage cleaned today as his partner has hurt her back and they are just going to spend the day at home. That's a relief.

In the afternoon, I go and see an elderly friend of mine.  Ever since I was young, I seem to have had elderly friends. Perhaps this is something to do with the fact that I got on well with my grandmother.  This woman is in her eighties and very sweet.  She reminds me of my mother as she has a cake waiting and after tea we stroll around the garden, discussing flowerss.  It's hard because it reminds me of Sunday afternoons at my parents' house.  My mum had always made something and we would sit on the veranda and talk about plants and people and life in general.  I suppose it reminds me that I don't have that home to go to any more.

The visit also reminds me that there are so many lonely people in Bulawayo.  My fault is that I get far too caught up with so many things that could just be put aside.  I need to put people first and make the time to go and see them.  A visit to an elderly person can really cheer them up.