Monday afternoon and I’m sorry to report that a very big, very black dog has descended on me. I mean the black dog of depression. I was feeling bad before I came and thought this place would fix me up, but it’s much worse. I’m having trouble functioning, unable to make any decisions or start any actions.
My brother and his wife arrive on Thursday and I’ll be very happy to see them.
I’m pretty certain I’ll have to come back early. Probably next Monday when they leave as well.
Barry Wood is here now and he found my villa yesterday after some phone directions. They had a much harder trip on Marco Polo than they bargained for, but they made it. He’s sore and tired, but OK.
I’ve told him to put my house sale on hold and he’s agreed readily. This is not working out.