Sunday, May 12, 2019

Cleared the dinning room table of mail, books, papers and dead flowers.  Now I am ready for my daughter’s visit.

I am used to living alone.  With others in the house I find it difficult to write.  I want the visitors. I like the friendship and conversations.  I like watching Beyonce with my daughter. Now I am almost alone in the living room while my daughter is in the bedroom.

At dusk the color red pops out at me.  The deep red geraniums and the bottle brush.  The red tips, are they flowers, blossoms or what?  They look like bottle brushes.  The squirrels chew on them and they drop to the patio.  This morning there are 15 limp battered blossoms on the cement steps below the bottle bush tree.

I am still reading TWO SISTERS. I am captivated how these two young girls were radicalized.  It is amazing any teenager survives charismatic fundamentalists.