Shortening the Day

It has been a week or so since I last wrote this blog. For some reason I am finding it difficult now. Perhaps because this is the week of F's death; it will be two years. I freeze up.

But last night son M on the phone from San Francisco said Mom, why worry about it - it makes no difference. Dad is not here. Stop worrying about the date - and of course, he's right. What difference does a date make - F is not here and won't be tomorrow or the day after and he wasn't here last week .... and anyway, this time two years ago we were in France and it was very different from this South African heat and midsummer.

Instead of "zipping my mouth" I will zip my mind.

I have been skirting, even, round bowls. Fully intending to go to tabs afternoons, then changing my mind at the last minute. Too hot - using that as an excuse. This spontaneous reclusive behaviour is not healthy, it is not in my nature. But this Monday heralds the start of something called Twilight Trips, in which games are arranged to start late afternoon with specific teams and this competition is carried on for six weeks or so into the late summer afternoons. I am involved in two such clubs and their Twilight Trips this year, and must play; there is no room for erratic behaviour with this, as I have given my word even if it is just for fun and hardly earth shaking stuff. It's what one does, at this stage of life, for entertainment.

However, the notion that bowls is just for old people is ridiculous. If one is bowling properly your knee just about touches the ground each time you send a bowl - try doing that 42 times in one afternoon (that's the least amount in one game) and see how stiff you feel afterwards. Bowling well does require a level of suppleness even if the exercise is gentle. And bowling well requires a great deal of concentration - or it does me, anyway. Which is the thing I love - the digging down deep into concentration and finding accuracy, as well as the balance and rhythm of a good delivery, which is something I practice. The well known phrase - the more I practice, the luckier I get.

Yesterday I left my house determined to drive myself out of my sadness. I would see if there were any singles games being played which I could watch - Port Natal Singles should have been in full swing but mysteriously, the bowling green was deserted. Not to worry, Bella and I would walk through the golf course. It was cool and grey and our walk was effortless. Afterwards, I thought, I would do what I never do, which is venture onto the clubhouse veranda and have a cup of tea by myself.

Ha, bumped right into a lady bowler I do not know well but nevertheless, the first thing she said was that she finds Sundays lonely and she was going to practice on the green; I would join her, I said, and roll we did, on a heavy green with my two jacks and a duster for a mat. Then we had tea. And were joined by a mutual friend and later, we had lunch, and all of a sudden it was no longer a lonely Sunday but a pleasant interlude of chat and bowls and a light lunch and I returned home quite happy.

That's all I needed to make the long quiet day shorter and busy.

I'm marking time, For what?