Juicing in the rain.

Yoga at 9.30 this morning.
I was stiff and tentative haven’t bent over double for a week.
Walked for an hour to post two birthday cards. My music is on random – I think they call it, so I was skipping, trotting, marching to everything from Steely Dan to Rachmaninov.
The rain stayed off.
I did the accounts for July. Jim and I have a system, I sit in the kitchen with all the receipts, fill out a form he made years ago, he then goes into his studio and makes out a spreadsheet. As fas as I can see we have as little money now as we did in 1977….
Went into the garden and meditated. The huge black rain clouds came and went. By the time I had finished the rolling gun metal buckets of rain were tumbling around in the sky and I had goose pimples on my naked legs.
Ran a bath, having made three juices, apple for the ‘oosbind, and two celery, cucumber and red chard for me.
Ollie Smith called and we talked love, life, filming on The East Coast of America, then went our separate ways. He to Bordeaux me to the bathroom.
I lay in a delicious bath and started me new book – DONNA TARTT – her first one. Second time I’ve gone for it. Needed time without distractions.
Then the storm came. Thunder as loud as barrels rolling down a cobble stone hill. Jim was out playing golf. He has just arrived home, dripping and happy, the thunder is 12 miles away. The path outside the kitchen is flooded, the lawn is a sponge, the leaves are drip drip dripping and Solly has slept through it all, on the back of the armchair his four legs splayed out in total abandon.
Jim won on points, but was beaten 5 to 4 on holes. I’m clueless to the rules of golf and to be honest I couldn’t care less.
5.30 and ready for another juice.
An early night to continue the book, then 9.30 yoga tomorrow morning and on and on……