I usually blog on Sundays. You may have seen that I do not truly plan my readings and entries may vary a lot from one week to another, moreover if something gossipy and interesting happens in the village.
Anyway this week I was ready. I had read two books about which I really wanted to talk. I had prepared my arguments and my layers of arguments. I had chosen the illustrations. I had thought about counter-arguments and the way to counter the counter-arguments and all in all I was quite happy with myself.
However when time came to type, I procrastinated. It was too hot and heat disagrees with me. I had other activities of the housekeeping type that were urgently requiring me. The little family had to he hugged and petted and talked with. I had a headache. In one sentence I was fully occupied.
When dinner time arrived, I was on my sister's bed trying to read "Palladian" by Elizabeth Taylor because I had read something about the book but I could not concentrate and I found that I was ready to cry. I wanted one thing: my bed. With closed shutters and a good wallowing in tears.
I must avow that although I try to smile through life and soldier on like a gallant infantry trooper, the morale was lacking today. Sometimes I realise that from now on life will be loneliness: if I except the little family with its mental disabilities and the village gossip, there is no one to talk to. Nobody with whom to share laughs, opinions, discussions, stupidities, books, ideas, tastes, music, painting, writing, life.
Therefore this week blogging has seemed a fancy, a superfluity that so few people will read that it was not useful to polish arguments and illustrations.
Now at last the hour of blessèd sleep has come and I wish it would last at least a hundred years! The New Provincial Lady has not blogged.
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