Who would have guessed that the process of grieving and forgiveness would take so long?  I have still not forgiven myself for the death of my Darling Bog Dog.

Part of forgiving, as they say, is forgetting and I am almost sure that I cannot remember why I was so angry with JB to begin with.  The more complicated the resentment the more difficult it is to hang onto.

Yesterday I mostly stayed at home.  Miles and another friend came by and Ashley joined us later.  I made a delicious cauliflower dish for dinner which we ate with home-made pickled beets.

I was planning on staying in all day then CNN called and sent a car and suddenly I was in the studio talking about Tyra and Dr Drew and a 15-year-old wayward girl/fame whore.  I looked odd on TV without my beard.

Managed to get the driver to stop off on way home so I could do all my errands.

Miles stayed over…no…not like that.

The house is packed with lively, amusing people.  I am happy here.  It all makes sense.  It all makes a great deal of sense.  As the time approaches for me to go to London for my operation I am not without a certain amount of trepidation.

What will it feel like..down there?

What can I tell you?  My head, increasingly, feels back to normal.  I rarely, if ever, give JB any serious thought.  I am getting to the point where I want the best for him as one might any stranger.

Disconnected bonhomie.

The war is over.

Of all days, the most miserable days to choose…I decided to finally leave the house.  Without a chauffeur…I made my way to Venice to my favorite restaurant just off Main Street, the adorable Sauce.  The owner made me hot chocolate, gave us a huge piece of pear…and of course we ate breakfast.

I came home and I finished the treatment.  Sent it to JA.

We all walked in the torrential rain.  The dogs came home covered in mud.

What CAN I say?  It’s a normal day without fear, resentment or shame.