In the end I didn't do much more than drift from one thing to another without purpose, which makes a refreshing change as I am a woman who likes to plan.
I watched season premieres of House and Grey's Anatomy, neither of which I've seen before, as well as the new Dirty Sexy Money, which is looking promising. I chatted with my parents and with M over the phone twice a day as he travelled between Jacksonville and Manhattan (where I'd instructed - whoops, requested - him to look at camcorders, laptops and DKNY clothing for me). I watched Brief Encounter and a few episodes of The Waltons on DVD. I watched The Way We Were. I filled my bags at the Food Hall in John Lewis and cabbed it home, chatting about Thailand with the affable taxi driver who has a Thai wife and 8 month old daughter living in Issan. I ate alot of Green & Black's milk chocolate and blood red oranges and marmite on toast, though not all together. I stayed in bed late, sleeping, napping, reading Hullabaloo In The Guava Orchard and The Inheritance Of Loss, and listening to Loretta Lynn, Leonard Cohen and Lambchop on my iPod. I wrote in my journal - a pretty pink and cream Japanese notebook from London Mitsukoshi's JP Books. I did laundry but I couldn't be bothered to hoover and dust the house despite my mother-in-law coming over on Easter Monday (today). I showed her around the new house. We went out to eat Turkish food with her friend and my sister-in-law and we looked at baby photos of M. We watched the 4D video of Little Planet's scan. I watched my belly dance as the baby did her rolling and kicking and hiccuping routine inside me. I browsed baby and nursery products from independent sellers on the internet. I read other peoples' blogs. And tomorrow morning I am off to my parents' house to eat home-cooked curries and drift aimlessly for another week.
I miss M so much. It's the longest we've been apart. I know from my own experience that a life spent largely alone can be rich and rewarding if you continually endeavour to make it so. But it's wonderful how much texture, shape and rhythm a loved one gives to one's day.