Well well: 'windy' said the Yahoo weather forecast all yesterday as the wind ever diminished and a yellowish haze covered everything. (Said 'musky' by mistake for 'murky' I think in previous post. But actually to my feeling, 'musky' tho' in olifactory terms a smell originating in the sexual organs of deer, if you think of it visually applies well enough; ditto 'musty.' Musty murky musky weather.) Both weather forecasts still suggesting higher wind in other directions - but actually it remains small and in the east; ie a calima - wind from the Sahara -which, admittedly, forecasts rarely catch in advance.
Fortunately it is not a high wind. Last thing I read about Africa concerned likely plagues of locusts. Last high east winds we had in February brought locusts in fair numbers, if not a plague, not enough to eat us up, though I was told they had problems up towards the north of the island. But if they come now... Part of me is curious to see a real plague of locusts I must say - this isn't a time of year when there are many crops to ruin - don't know if locusts eat grapes or only the leaves? And everything would grow back after, once the rains come. Beloved, though, points out that it woul;d mean the garden not looking good for visitors. Not looking wonderful at the moment anyway. Bourgainvillea is in its periodic decline - new shoots come, but flowers just brown husks. Its last splendour was, of course, while we were away. I water assiduously: reasonably so. Handsome still not quite risen from his bed of sickness, plants have to make do with us.
Just rescued lentils which I was cooking for a salad lunch. Almost burned: not quite. Think as I do so how differently meals frame the day when there were two cooks. In previous existances I thought oh god what are we going to eat tonight, surveyed existing provisions or acquired new ones, cooked in due course and that was it. Now it's all more ceremonious: are you cooking? Or am I? What are you going to cook? etc. Admittedly I sometimes opt for fast cooking options with minimal pans - and do my best to limit Beloved's tendency to create vast anounts of washing-up. He likes slow cooking. I am less keen on slow clearing-up. I also dispute his notion that a quickly and simply prepared meal is a necessarily uninteresting one.
Twins: ever interesting, not to say sad subject for me. Two lots this week; murdered twins in Yorkshire: babies on Supernanny. Supernanny called in to deal with obstreperous elder brother of latter. Not once was it acknowledged that given the simultaneous arrival of two siblings he might have had a point, and should be given quite special, separate, love and attention. Supernanny's advice effective though; but to the mind of this twin, remembering our elder brother, not enough.
Other twins non-identical females; the first one murdered - by her boyfriend - had a 'dysfunctional relationship' with her family - and presumably her twin. I imagine this. Wonder about the dynamic and what the second twin - who came to look for her sister and got murdered herself - did for a living - her sister worked in a factory. This is not an entirely irrelevent thought. Was she the 'bright' achieving one? Or what? Would my twin's potentially violent, often dysfunctional husband have killed her in the end, if the cancer hadn't got there first? He threatened to kill others, after all. This is not a happy thought and the whole situation haunts me - particularly given my violent bro'-in-law's attitude to me as his dead wife's twin.
Too hot in night. Woke sometime after 4 to find Beloved who also couldn't sleep had gone. Didn't sleep again till he came back around 7.45, despite all efforts - and finishing Hilary Mantel's autobiographical book,about not least, her appalling misuse by the medical profession, only bearable to read because of her wit; and her prose.
Sun coming out: it's hot. Enough. Off to hang washing out and think of contents of flat in Birmingham. Grannypxx