Joan Didion

I've been a bit away with the fairies today. I've been to market and run my stall, but it took me ages to set up, and after that I don't really know where the day went. I think perhaps I did not sleep well last night.

The sun was blazing while I walked home, so I went out to the cabin and ate an ice cream. Then Bomble and I had a sleep. Came back in as the sun was setting and retired to bed. Steve brought me supper, and I've been watching Netflix. The documentary about Joan Didion is excellent, so I've chosen to blip the cover of the only book of hers that I can find in the house. I thought we had The year of magical thinking, but no...

I didn't realise that Joan and her husband had an adopted daughter called Quintana Roo, who sadly died in 2005, two years after Joan's husband's death, which makes up the subject of The year of....(Her later book, Blue nights is about the life and death of Quintana Roo). I must get both, and Slouching towards Bethlehem, which I have wanted forever.

Quintana Roo is, of course, the name of a State of Mexico, a state which was isolated and underdeveloped until a few decades ago. It is the state which my late father chose as the place of his birth for his (largely fictitious) Mexican identity. He also invented Mexican parents for himself, as well as a more Mexican-sounding name. He did however, die an authentic death in Mexico, though in Michoacán rather than QR. I suppose he chose QR as his fake birthplace because records would have been hard to find; he had more disguises and personas than Mr Benn. He was not a typical family man. Although I don't understand why he chose to go to such lengths and renounce both his parents and Dunfermline, Fife, his actual city of birth, I am equally baffled as to why anyone would name their child after a state! (It's true I've been known to joke about naming a child Missouri, Nevada or Alba, but hey, I never actually did it!)

At any rate, Quintana Roo (the person) was apparently troubled during her brief life and Joan felt bad for not realising it. 'Blue nights' is, I think about the grief of a parent who suddenly doubts their parenting, too late to change things. I must read it. Though it grieves me to say this, sometimes I'm glad that I've never been a parent because I would have made so many mistakes: being too harsh, too impatient, expecting independence too early. Maybe if I'd given birth to, say, a kitten, I'd have done ok.

Speaking of kittens, do check out CleanSteve's 'flying kitten' blip. I can't post in a link because I'm in-app, but it's for March 28th.

As a footnote for history, the once-Great Britain did not 'Brexit' the European union this evening at 11pm. Vive le fromage, and wake me up in about three years' time...