The other distressing thing about illness (to continue from yesterday's post) is the number of things that it causes you to miss. (I turn into a mopey little five year old, I swear, when others are having fun and I can't come.) On Sunday, it was the Sir Lanval wrap party, kicked off with a talk by my friend Ari Berk (writer and mythologist), who co-wrote the film's screenplay and is in town with his family for a couple of weeks. Last night, it was Howard's band, Nosey Crows, playing tunes at an old pub in the next village over . . . which is precisely the sort of evening that I love best. <sigh>
Once again I look to Guru Tilly for guidance. She doesn't like being left out either, she vastly prefers it whenever we take her along. But she doesn't waste time regretting what she can't have, or regretting things that have passed; she's a little zen master in the art of Living in the Present. Most other animals are too, of course; and it's among the many things they have to teach us two-legged folk.
One of the songs that the Nosey Crows do well is a cover of the Pogues' classic, Dirty Old Town (above). This one goes out to all of the crows this morning, musical and otherwise. . . including the crows in this poem, and this one. It's a beautiful morning, in a hushed and misty way. I'm still sick, but it's okay. I'm breathing in these green hills, and I'm living in the present. And it's all good.