Darkness at dawn

We traveled from gray gloom to patches of brilliance by afternoon; ordinary, unnotable hours, other than a trip for beautification. My mother informed the stylist, as always, that she felt old. This engendered a cheery pep talk, of which she seems to need more lately. One must be coach and cheerleader.
Wound up Atwood's nonfiction collection, which was ultimately all right. Not blindingly stellar, but it did provide some views of works I'd read which were thought provoking. A few others were simply provoking.