Small things to feel cheered by:
we got internet back this morning and the problem is apparently close to being solved;
panic over about not being able to send important docs electronically, just slipped in under the wire;
the youngest’s on-going drama of living on her own far away and finding herself locked out of things like cash flow in now in the responsible hands of our bank person;
the doctor’s secretary (who is a nutter) actually agreed to ask the doctor to renew my annual vitamin D prescription without insisting I make an appointment;
the empty nest is going to be visited for a few days by one of the fledglings;
and a magical moment—when I let Finbar out for his early morning pee, a hind and her two young ones were grazing in the meadow in front of the house.
Through morning mist hanging grey
and faintly shimmering, I
watch the meadow where a shape,
rain-blurred and russet-brown stirs
then another, then three—hind
and her twins cropping the grass,
the only sound falling rain.