We have a heat wave alright and we got it for a couple of weeks already. It's blistering, it's humid, it's hot. But the mornings, especially after a rain storm or thunder, are fine and exquisite. I decided to do my morning run alongside the river and then had some yoghurt and fruit and tea on the terrace before I starting the tedious stuff. The Arts Festival keeps me more than busy, many ads to design, old accounts don't come in, enough to do. But I had decided to first attend to a big stack of unopened mail, speak bills, and pay them. I am always reluctant to do so and I am always procrastinating. Well, here I sit now at the computer, looked at my e-mails, talked to Neda and the mail is still not yet opened! Sad. But it was a wonderful morning on the terrace. The view, the air, the lushness, my flowers, the peace! I started reading a Granta story, but I faithfully put my book down to attend to my work with a great sense of gratefulness about this particular morning! I want to remember this feeling in the middle of the winter. Is that possible?
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