WORN OUT SHOES in Postcards 4

On my old drawing board stool.

Illness. That’s all the sickie can talk about….how they feel, are they getting worse, are they getting better….that sort of thing. It’s boring. It’s like having an old pair of shoes that meant the world to you before you put them away in the closet. When they came out, they were hard edged and hurt your feet and your hands. No matter what you did you couldn’t get them on again. For a while, that’s all you could talk about, and no one wanted to listen.
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• Himself: Rather than be kept up all night, he slept uncomfortably downstairs on the sofa.


• Myself: I got some sleep at last. Eyes going down the tubes. Much stronger glasses in the offing, but I can still drive if carefully. Cataract surgery very soon.


• Drawing: Me.


• Reading: Brandsetter…I really recommend these.


• Gratitude’s: That I am upright