Dear Francesca,

A blustery, A.A. Milne kind of day. All day the wind rattled the windows, sometimes slamming them closed. All day I sat in front of the unmoving computer screen, body planted, grounded.

On break I went outside. The wind pushed at me while I read from Rita Dove’s book of poems, Grace Notes. I continually had to pull my tangled hair out of my face. I didn’t want to go back in to the stuffy building.

At the moment, I feel pretty good. Tired, but not beyond a normal tiredness. I need to adjust my outlook. I need to give up the notion that I should know how each day will be, and concentrate more on the present. I should really narrow that down further, down to hours. It seems as if each time I say that I am feeling good, then soon I am back to feeling my body wrenched or my mind gravelling me down. Not all illness can be cured with a pill washed down my throat. The sooner I can accept that...

Yours,
Hannah Iona