Another beautiful day – another chilly one. I walked alone, sorry to say goodbye to April. Glorious May is too much like spending capital. The wild garlic is now in flower – I must harvest some more. It doesn’t last long, once that happens. 2889 steps – I ought to be able to edge it up to 3000. I did it yesterday.

 

Life is suddenly very quiet. Helen and her colleague seem to be doing well, and have both gone off for the weekend. My Romanian cleaner is similarly absent, celebrating Easter according to the Julian calendar. I had my Italian lesson this morning, because May 1 is a big event in Rome. Delicious emptiness looms.

 

I hope I will be able to show you a picture of Helen’s work soon. I don’t dare go in there, because Paradox is obsessed with that room and cats and tesserae aren’t a good mixture. She (Helen, not the cat) is making a floor for a well-known distillery: I don’t know whether they will welcome advance publicity. I’ll confer with her nearer finishing time.

 

But no knitting. I must certainly do better tomorrow – no excuse. Italian tends to flatten me, but that’s over for this weekend.

 

And as for reading, I forge forward with “I Vicere”.

 

Not much to report, in fact.