This has felt such a rich day, from the freshness of salt air and water on waking, to the pleasure of having the cat come to my bedside and call politely but firmly for her breakfast instead of her recent unfocussed senile yowlings (I’m not judging, just saying). I drove down to Atherton for a Thespian gig – I had to be a ‘European older woman’ so I wore my pearls- and on the way back loved every minute of the lupins on the hills, the detour for Andy Goldsworthy in the Presidio, the reliable delight of driving the slalom from Sausalito all the way down that long, winding hill to Corte Madera, getting my passport photos taken while still in makeup – how cunning I am! – then home to presents on my doorstep and laundry fresh and dry from a day on the line.
I did have a flat tyre, but even that could have been much worse – the driver of the car behind alerted me and I turned off on 19th Avenue and had it changed within ten minutes – it appears to have a great plug of antler stuck into the treads, I’ll pull it out when I remember to unearth the pliers.
Which is what I mean by balance and delight: it isn’t a good thing to have a flat tyre, but it could have been so much worse I’m almost refreshed by it.
I have happened upon the most amazing blogand sat reading it for hours while the sun sank straight in my line of vision, I’m not normally at this window at this time of day, and the sky was pure gold. Maybe it’s the second glass of wine, maybe it is ‘et incarnatus est’ from the Grande Mass in C minor, on a loop (I am alone tonight so not responsible for a husband’s sanity), but I am suspended in a state of infinite bliss… Barbara Hendricks sings it like a love song, the most sensuous music imaginable, and it is a mass!