Written 26 May, 2020.
The chapter’s almost finished, and we decide it’s got too hard – nine days of no sunshine, the firewood is always damp, the night temperatures that drop to 8 degrees, the generator shock. We’ll go away for two months, back to the city to the house of my friend’s mother, and come back in spring.
I text my dear friend R. She texts back that we’re welcome when we want to come.
Marg finds the loneliness endless, and the days without name.
Farewell drinks tonight, at our brazier near the pergola. Dy comes, ST, and our new neighbour T who brings another bunch of rock lilies, this time with roots. A party is so easy here. Just drinks, a bit of cheese, plastic cups, firewood, torches, chairs, thick clothes, conversation about all the things we have in common. Mud, solar power, water tanks, gardens, boats, mud.
We have a community, as ST often says. and I can’t believe our luck.