Snapshots
15 January
The first year that I wrote this Journal was a year of much thinking about things as well as lots of raucous action.
The second year, I was more settled and, maybe consequently, wrote less. The third year proved to be a year of massive upheavals and readjustments; I wrote a lot. Maybe it's a case of odds and evens. This is the fourth year and an evens year so maybe I'm not going to be posting here quite so regularly. Certainly, I don't feel quite as impelled to write as I did last year.
In the meantime, here are some quick snapshots of the last fortnight.
Monday 4
Wonderful crop of winter jasmine this year. The front garden fence in ablaze with acid yellow.
First day back at work. Everyone's deflated. But at least we're all in the same boat. And since everyone else has been on holiday, there's no overflowing in-tray and there's only a dozen e-mails to respond to.
Yoga. First of the New Year. Lots of newcomers. The room is overly full. I feel as stiff as a board in the postures.
Tuesday 5
Front garden also has snowdrops in profusion. Probably the crocus are soon to follow.
Quaker Web Group. The task is nearly done. I'll let you know when it is finally published so you can see for yourselves. You'll see where I got the frames layout from.
Wednesday 6
Walking to work. 8am. Bright clear skies. An almost full moon hanging dusty grey in the pale blue straight ahead of me. So palpable, you could feel the detail of the landscape.
Meetings at work about our new service project. I am filled with anxiety. Seems so big and so ill defined.
Incredibly warm. About 16°C. Nice to walk around without winter warmers on.
Healing with Alistair. God he is a chunky hunk. I wouldn't mind cupping his buttocks any day of the week. I hope these thoughts don't get in the way of the healing.
Rang Ross. Not taking calls. I'm slightly worried but not overly. I tell myself that he's a big boy and can take care of himself.
Thursday 7
Off to Oxford for a meeting. Some new people. Suddenly I'm feeling like an elder statesman rather than a newbie again. Remembered to pack winter warmers. Temperature plummets and I'm glad of them.
Friday 8
Small bed in Hall of Residence. I wake up with a cruelly stiff neck which lasts the day despite the application of various analgesic creams.
Bottle of whiskey. The Singleton from Oddbins. A treat. Should help me sleep tonight.
Get home to warm clean house. But I'm in pain, tired and miserable. I want a hot meal and a man to curl up next to in bed. I have to make the food myself and I'm all alone. But I take charge and look after myself. Hot water bottles clamped to my shoulders and neck to ease the ache. Put the central heating to 24 hours.
Phone message from Ross. Been in hospital but phone message is wonderfully caring and let's me know that there is no danger and that his family knows all about it. It relieves me of any self-imposed pressure to become the sole support.
Saturday 9
Sun. Miraculously sun in the downstairs room at 1pm. I thought the sun was hidden from downstairs until at least the end of January. But it just goes to show. Last year must have been particularly cloudy at this crucial time of day to prevent me seeing this progress. Everywhere else there seem to be gales and rain or snow.
Pick up Ross in the afternoon and bring him home to tend to him for the evening. Cyril is glad to see him. I think that that cat really loves my boyfriend.
Sunday 10
Spend a lot of time doing things to avoid doing some work for work. Talk long with next door neighbour Cathy. Fix new curtain rail. Do ironing. Shave.
Working in the garden in late afternoon. Reddening sky. Honking above. Geese flying, their breasts tinged russet by the sunset. Daffodils are pushing up through the loam.
Phone call from Roger about Quaker practice. Feel let down that my first communication from the elders of the group was one reminding me about a small part of the practice (allowing a pause between ministries) rather than anything more welcoming or encouraging.
Monday 11
Long morning ablutions. I like looking after myself nowadays. Classic FM in the background. I do like the Today programme for its general news content and its handy milestones in the getting up hour. But it can be so aggressive. It's nice to have pleasant music instead in the bathroom.
Yoga. Still stiff.
Tuesday 12
Beautiful salmon pink sky in the morning. The outside streetlight snaps off at about 7:54am.
Work so busy.
Wednesday 13
Training with a group of academics from the Slade School of Art among whom is world famous designer and theatre director, Philip Prowse. I drop a few hints that I know who he is. They are graciously acknowledged. As a whole, the group is appallingly badly behaved. However, we all get on famously.
More healing with Alistair. He seems somewhat reticent. Maybe he's picked up
on a vibe that he knows is unhelpful to the therapeutic relationship.
Thursday 14
Phone call from firm of professional headhunters. Want IT Training person based in London with good interpersonal skills. Working on behalf of Shell International. Salary starting mid-late 30s. But complete package with various health care and share options would brng total package to around 50K. I'm sincerely flattered and will go to interview if offered but I don't think that it's me somehow.
Lunch with people on library staff. Includes Jonathan, another chunky hunk.
He is very good natured. He has to be.
Quaker Theology Group. Lot of head stuff. Can't help myself piping up. Must keep quieter.
Friday 15
I've got a nasty rash of water blisters on the sole of my left foot. Stinging rather than painful. Luckily I'm seeing the doctor next Monday night about my eczema. I can get them checked out then.
I've bought my flight tickets to San Francisco. So, come Thursday 4 March, I shall be flying out of Heathrow's Terminal 3.
Late in the afternoon I receive e-mail from Colin in Lowestoft with holiday snapshots attached. There's this photo of him looking very relaxed and this other photo of his friend, Ed, who looks as though he's doing his impression of mild mannered Clark Kent and will, at any moment now, rush into a telephone box and emerge clad in tight spandex ready to save the world.
Can't wait to meet him.
Ross says he want some time to himself. So, Friday night is spent pleasing myself.