Saturday, July 5th

MARVELOUS DAYS … cool, blue water, the roses out in profusion, the clematis still a glory. But we need rain badly, so I spend an unholy amount of time and energy hauling the hoses around. Judy has been here for five days now, and is a good deal more disoriented; so each day is a multiple lesson for me in handling frustration. It is the repeated little things that get on my nerves … she goes to bed in her underwear unless I am there to be sure she really undresses; in the morning she is very bewildered trying to dress and, if I put out clothes for her, never puts them on, but wanders around digging out something else, packs her suitcase over and over again. The little walks down to the sea with Tamas cannot be allowed any longer, as she has been wandering up onto the Firths’ porch and even to the back door early one morning just as they were letting their huge police dog out. This could be dangerous, although Jud, the big black dog, is gentle and obedient. But, after all, if Tamas is right there practically in his house, it would not be surprising if Jud bit him.

I had hoped we would have a happy time picking the first peas yesterday … I never managed to have peas exactly for the Fourth in Nelson, so it was a triumph. But Judy didn’t really enjoy it (though she did shell them). Then, while I struggled with masses of crabgrass between the rows of annuals, I suggested she pull out a few easy weeds among the lettuce. When I looked up, I realized she was pulling out the lettuce instead of the weeds! And this had come at the end of so many other small crazy fugues that I cried bitterly. While I was having a bath before getting our supper (salmon and fresh peas), Judy disappeared again. But finally we did have a good half hour watching the evening birds fly over, sitting out on the terrace, and she was delighted by the sailboats gliding up and down in the distance.

The most difficult thing for me, of course, is that she is here with me but we no longer can share anything. I try to tell her what I am thinking about, but all the reactions now are superficial, glib sentences like, “How interesting!” when she is clearly not paying the slightest attention. After a few days I begin to feel desperately lonely.