My Friend Ida

My friend Ida came to visit, to cook me a meal because she was afraid I would live off scraps. I'm not sure why I awaken such motherly feelings in people, seeing as I can cook but prefer not to. She arrived with a packet of frozen cod, a jar of green pesto, cherry tomatoes, and a packet of creme fraiche. She apologized for the simplicity of the meal.

It has been so pleasant to have someone around the house. It's so quiet otherwise. Ida and I went for a walk in the neighborhood, admiring houses and gardens silent in the gloom of autumn. Everything is waiting for winter.

Ida said strolling with me was a bit like taking a dog for a walk. I made her stop every few minutes so I could inspect an interesting branch or take a picture of a withered leaf.

Look for colour. You will find it.

Ida thinks she drinks too much tea. After our walk, she was cold and wished for another cup, which she had, whilst I heated a cup of blackcurrant cordial. I am not much for tea, but hot cordial warms cold hands just as well.