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the end of summer

The last of the summer figs. It finally feels like the end of summer. Yesterday was a beautiful autumn day at Brancaster Staithe. We saw a couple of cormorants - hated by fishermen apparently- and some nice curlews paddling along, and numerous gulls and other fishing birds.

I have no more lung news yet. Although this week I had my assessment for pulmonary rehabilitation so I can start this Thursday. Yay; hope I can build some muscle strength which will make everything a bit easier. There are several respiratory nurses and physios there to support.

On Friday we went to a poetry reading which is something that I wouldn't normally think I'd enjoy. But Jane gave me a flyer for it and I thought it looked interesting and not to ‘poetty’ (not a word but I can’t think of another more suitable) ie ‘celebrates the domestic and everyday’ and about ‘nature and weather and the seasons’. And it did what it said on the tin. Jonathan Ward read from his lovely book Swallows in Late September for not too long and there was wine. His friend and fellow teacher and author said at the end that what he liked was that it wasn’t all about Jonathan’s ego which hit the nail on the head; the poems are from observation and experience and without sentimentality, but do have soul, or I guess duende as the Spanish would say. Not a word you hear very often as not very English at all.

As well as figs there are the last of the summer’s flowers. These are some pink things (bulbs by the look of them) that have appeared nicely next to the pop of yellow nasturtiums; and the chocolate cosmos which just keeps on and on. And we have a beetle that’s taken up residence in the kitchen. There's the last of my anniversary flowers, moved to the vase that Ann gave me for my birthday

My painter this week is Deborah Tarr link here. I like her abstract landscapes, and they are beautifully framed.

I have yet to produce any oils myself that I’m ready to share but I’m keeping going. I have invested in some new Sennelier oils so I certainly can't blame my tools. I love the old French paint and paper makers like Arches that have been being made since 1492. Even if you can't produce a masterpiece you can enjoy the fantastic paint colours and the quality of the paper.

I am just off to the art group now so maybe this week will be my breakthrough....

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