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the luck o’ Tuesday

Today the whole city relaxed and stretched into the sun – many bikes, many walkers, feeling an unfamiliar glow on the skin. I rode my bike to a doctor’s appointment on the other side of town, my first long ride this year – what heaven, zipping through the traffic jams with a soft breeze and sunshine. I have a great doctor, a tall gangly woman who takes so much time to talk to each patient and really get to know them that the trick is to be her first appointment; after that, she gets hopelessly behind. But she’s worth the long waits, because she’s interested in the whole person and just loves to chat.

I had a check-up to make sure the plant is running properly before my trip – also had the computer checked last week, and my teeth – putting as much to rights as I can before I vanish. The doctor said I have grown a quarter of an inch. “Do you do yoga?” I do – is it tugging me up that much? My mother used to be six feet tall and is now shorter than I – I used to be five feet eight and a half but am now closer to five nine. Yes!
The highlight of my day – in the early evening, my son came home from his peregrinations on his way to a St. Patrick’s day celebration with Irish friends. He is living here briefly, making messes, dropping clothing and crumbs about the place, devouring the contents of the fridge and entertaining the landlady. I sat on the bar stool in the kitchen, he sat on the counter by the sink, and he told me about his dreams. He has such vivid dreams that he wakes up regularly, shouting. “Don’t worry, it’s magnetised!” he shouted one night.  He walks at night, too – has woken up on the kitchen or the bathroom floor. Last night his dream involved a knife fight with Tom Cruise. I’m happy to say that Sam won.
He made me laugh, as he always does, and was fascinating, as he always is, and then he got changed and put on some spicy smell, buckled up his leather jacket, kissed the old bag on the cheek and disappeared. One day, he will be immersed in his grown-up life, and another lucky woman will be pondering his dreams. For now, it’s still lucky, lucky me.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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