Tried ringing Peg three times yesterday, she was either sleeping, nauseous, or had visitors or physio person in the room. The Gay Brigade's there every day. God love'em. Spoke to Peg today, finally. She cried. Terri says she has photos of me all around her room. I suddenly realized my mother's been putting on a brave front all these months, saying she's fine, I am not to worry, she is being well looked after, that I should stay and do what I have to do, my work in important---I don't think she's been fine at all. You miss your child, don't you. Especially if you're old and sick and not long for this earth. And you do so even if your child has a tendency to be impatient and short-tempered and full of angst and recriminations and better ideas. I feel badly when I hear her so tearful, saying how much she misses me. I feel the pressure is on again. But it's better than having her not miss me, I guess.
Today I edited the press release for DK's memoirs, then went through the audio book, paragraph by paragraph, trying to find 1 -2 minute sections for podcasts "that show DK and the book at it's best" (the directive). Got a few more quotes from celebs in, for the back cover and the press release. Walked the dog. Went to the store for cucumber, salad and scallions, came back for my wallet, went again, they only had salad. Came back, got the car, went to the Anchor to get the sign laminated that I made for the gate that says PLEASE CLOSE GATE OR MAD DOG ESCAPES, and for cucumber and scallions. No scallions. Came home, fuck the scallions. Not driving to Southwold at 5 PM. It will be Sezchuan duck minus scallions.
Still more work to do before bed tonight before finalizing press release. This is hard. Am glad I don't do this every day.
Bonnie saw an owl on the windowledge in Becket and then it stayed on a branch by the house all day Saturday and Sunday. I'm finding this exciting for some reason, normally I don't give a toss about birds, in fact openly dislike them as a rule--but an owl. Hey. Am scared now to look up what seeing an owl signifies in Native American folklore in case it's something sinister and that I should maybe not hear.
Off tomorrow, Alex kindly driving me to Heathrow (well, am paying him £35). Not packed yet. Soon, soon.
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