"Does he wind it regularly?"

Took my dad's watch back to Collins the jeweller's in Muesli Hill - serviced recently but stops all the time, "Does he wind it regularly?" asked Mr Collins.  "Who?", I thought.  Ah, he thinks I had my dad's watch serviced, for my dad.  That is so sweet, so trusting of the universe.  That I'd actually have a live father.  Which of course I don't, haven't since February 1973.

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Had this wonderful brief vision of my father rising up from Bushey Cemetery, popping over to wind his watch, giving me a nod and a wink, and returning, silently, to his rightful spot.

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Dear Mr Collins, you really don't know, do you?  My whole family consists of dead people, or people with cancer, or people who have made it back from the brink, or people scarred by other people's cancer.  But bless you for your optimism.

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Made fairy cakes for the afternoon workshop ladies, and good thing, too.  Had to eat a good half dozen of them myself to keep my sugar levels up.  Wrote and listened and shared and talked.  A good afternoon.