molar

As the threat of imminent flooding shows online as a great big red circle around my house, I thought it best to safeguard treasured possessions. Tonight the only floods were those of my tears. I think at some point I will need to make the hard decision to throw away letters written by my mother that give me no hope or happy memories. Death is real enough, even that many, many years in the past, without saving its mementoes.

I'm optimistic we'll escape the rain floods; our tiny borrowers bungalow is raised and some distance from the river. Tomorrow I shall dip a toe gingerly out of bed to check for wet carpet. Or I will have slept hard, completely forgotten about it and stumble heavily to the bathroom before I realise the carpet is still dry.