by There’s been some much better news from Geraldine in the last few days. We now know that Dad has a low-grade cancer and he’s caught it early. We all hoped that was the case – he has no symptoms, after all. He’s not exactly out of the woods yet, and a huge ordeal awaits him in ten days’ time, but it’s still one hell of a relief. In March he had a stream of blood when he went to the loo – a one-off, but scary enough for him to ask questions. (A lot of men would have just let that slide.) That might not have been cancer-related at all, but an effect of the Warfarin he takes, so perhaps the heart valve replacement he had in 2005 didn’t only save his life back then, but also 14 years later. Perhaps. Until he has the op, we won’t really know.
Yesterday I watched Simona Halep’s match against Amanda Anisimova. Just wow. Both the last two years Simona reached the final of Roland Garros, and I met Mum and Dad on the evening of the match. The results weren’t the same, and neither were the places I met my parents (in 2017 it was at the airport; last year it was at the train station) but it was beginning to feel like a routine. This Saturday though, there will be no Simona in the final and my parents won’t be here either. That’s a bit sad.
Some things still have that lovely early-June feel about them. The strawberries, the cherries, the apricots, the big juicy tomatoes that make me wonder how I ever eat those crappy imported tomatoes at other times of year. And the smells. Blindfold me and earplug me and I’d still know I was in Timișoara. The most distinctive smell of all is the tei, or lime trees. Temperatures are starting to nudge 30, which is normal at this time of year, but the rain shows no sign of abating. Some houses in Timiș County have been flooded.
I’ve had five cancellations this week, so I’ve managed to watch more tennis than I’d bargained for. I get less pissed off by cancellations than I used to. Yes they’re annoying, especially at the last minute, but they give me the chance to recharge my batteries.
