Sunny came home for a week last Sunday, seven nights. When he goes back he will have spent three of those seven nights with L and one with E. Both Beloved and I have wished him away as he has spent his days playing on the X box. It’s easier to have him do nothing in N than here. Then we don’t have to watch him wasting his life.
But yesterday and today were very lovely with him. Yesterday we went on a golden autumn walk. We found an old apple orchard and filled out pockets with huge red juicy apples. We trekked through russet woods, over sludgy fields, along sweeping valleys. A beautiful afternoon together.
And today we and Ma went to the National Gallery together. We saw the Mantegna and Bellini exhibition, had lunch and then went on to the Impressionist exhibition. A perfect day.
Last night Ma and I watched a documentary about Degas. We learnt how he died alone, not allowing anyone near, more because he was afraid that all they were interested in was his art and he thought they wanted to take it from him. Ma said she entirely understood him.