It is so cold that it was MY idea that we walked in the mall today. I told Dusty that I wanted to walk indoors because she hurt her knee last week and she'd be able to sit down if it started hurting but I really just didn't want to freeze my hoo-hoos off. We did 4 laps in about 45 mins. I don't know how far that is but it was enough. My lower back and hips felt achy about halfway, probably still hurting a bit from pushing them on Saturday. No snow yet, either. Not very Christmas-y looking out there.
December 6--Corfu. The beach hadn't changed much since Gerry's grandad had come here to escape the English winter in the 1930s. The hotels and guesthouses that lined the protected little bay had been painted at least once in the intervening years and there were a few more villas in the hills behind the town, but in most ways it was the same. Gerry felt like he had slid backwards in time as he walked down the sandy main street to buy bread and meat for his supper. It looked like the same black-haired woman leaning out of her door to call out to her husband as he came up from the fields that he remembered from his childhood visits. He realized that it was probably her daughter or maybe no relation at all, but still he watched for Lugaretsia who had been their cook one summer and he was sure he would run into Santos who had been the town cab driver. It was a small island, surely they were still there.
Funny how we age and expect things we remember to be the same, isn't it?