Dru, Steinbeck and the Book of Deer

Dear Juliet I found this one hour spiritual travelogue about Point Lobos today. It begins at Gibson Beach, I'm pleased to say. I hope you're okay and I hope you enjoy it? Remember, you don't have to be perfect to be liked, and I like you just the way you are. Love, James

 Dear Juliet Are you okay, J? Are you scared the shoe's going to drop? No, it won't. It's okay. Well, I have to work tonight and tomorrow night (Monday-Tuesday) but a substantial portion of my day is usually free and I usually carry my smartphone with me. I think you remember my email address... Take care, and God bless. Love, James

Dear Juliet I'm probably going to be shot at dawn for this (and I'm really not a morning person...) but I thought you'd like this metaphorical bouquet from Bridgnorth! I didn't really have the stuffing to climb up to the High Town again and, walking over the bridge, noticed these beautiful flower baskets. I lined up a couple of shots, I hope you like your flowers. I really liked doing that. You're really worth it. Love, James

Dear Juliet I don't know if the emotional floodgates are opening, although it's quite likely. Yes, there are worse solutions than Ben & Jerry's. I think I'll get through one myself tonight. It's absolutely normal sometimes to feel the need to sob your guts out, and I think it would be/has been very good for you. How are you feeling now? I just filed photographs all afternoon and I have three calls this evening, might dance in the street again afterwards! Not quite like opening an emotional floodgate, but it's healthy. You'll be on my mind. There's nothing wrong with having eyes red-rimmed from crying, it's just part of who you are. You don't have to be perfect. Even Gene Kelly occasionally missed a step! I'll check in and see if there's been any activity on the blog when I get back tonight. Probably about 3.00 pm your time. Everything will be okay. Love, James

Dear Juliet I see you read a few blogs last night? Well, if you're having a bit of a crisis don't worry, I'm here. And as Frasier Crane would say, "I'm listening." It's all right. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Everyone has these two o'clock in the morning moments; where reality crashes in and you feel like the wreck of the Hesperus , storm-tossed amidst heaving seas. I'm not too bad myself, but I usually feel pretty grouchy and hopeless in the mornings. This too shall pass. Have a hug: 🤗 It's actually been a slow news day here, so I was thinking of showing you a few old shots from Needles in Death Valley. That segued on to thoughts of whether you might retire from a declining Hollywood and buy a flat in Primrose Hill, but I won't dwell on that. So: 1) You've got my contact details if you need to unload (reminds me of that time you were being overwhelmed by moths and spiders in London in 2011 and we spent half the nigh...

Dear Juliet I'm not sure, but I think things are fairly stable at the moment? If so, good. I've had a hot day seeking out new tyres, and a haircut. At work tonight, hopefully I won't bump into any vampires in the woods. Pills should finish at the end of the month, I have leave from 24th August to 11th September. I'm not going to tease you by suggesting I go to Los Angeles or Seattle. It'll possibly be Glenfinnan but I might try somewhere further afield, like Baku in Azerbaijan. So apart from a brief break in Baku, I should reliably be around. You don't have to do anything other than be yourself and merely be . The future seems a little calmer and more cloistered. It feels like I'm writing to you as I remember you. A little fragile and uncertain as of yet, but I think you're there. And that's the most important thing. The feeling that you're coming back to yourself. Would you like a T-shirt from Baku? Or perhaps a flying carpet? Love, James