The 23rd already – time flies when you’re rushed off your feet what with sorting out records and replies, stocktaking at work (and being unusually busy) and going out (even on our slim budget). Lisa and Mick visited. Next night saw us totally exhausted and watching TV and reading papers! I hope that doesn’t become the norm.
Today we’ve just woken up and preparing to go to Milton Keynes and then London for luncheon appointments. This mad rush of life is busy snatching time from us and we run along playing catch up, apologising to those we forget in our panic, to whom we owe replies and responses.
Read more Jack in mum’s garden, glorious sun shining and cats playing – this in the 10 minutes I managed to grab for a lunch break yesterday. And my wrist is starting to hurt again.
Steve, old pal, I’m thinking of you and about you recently what with all the stuff me and Bronwyn are going through and what you got up to in the short time I knew you. Your marriage and the birth of Rebecca and the emotions you expressed in the lead up to her birth. Difficult problems you faced and we face similar decisions now relating to our future life. Us hoping our life may be longer than yours but who can predict such sad events. Let us hope they do not take us over. Life seems short and tinged with sadness but we (Broni and I) are happy chappies (I can’t really say what I mean here but I’m not unhappy with life or despondent in anyway but aware of its boundaries and unevenness).
As to today, we drove in what seems like the blink of an eye up to Bronwyn’s aunt once removed (Bronwyn’s dad’s cousin’s wife) Isabel, who is a glorious old lady living in a glorious old house in a glorious village that she knows all the history of, having lived there 20, nearly 30 years, raising Piers and Purdy (ex-punk I’ve yet met). As she showed us around she talked with excitement and enthusiasm about the village across the decades and how Milton Keynes has risen as a spectre in the distance, gaining ground ever nearer. And she remembers when that huge sprawling city was just a thought in some ministers pea brain all those years before.
Her house was beautifully old and full of old books and artefacts along with delicate glassware she collects. We saw a five-day-old foal on our walkabout too and watched mum (big as an elephant) guard her baby. So sweet young life starts. Big life.
From here, photos taken, goodbyes waved, we shot down Macadam in hairy-dicey-Indy 500 traffic to city of lights where traffic oddly quietened and we got to David and Louise’s on time for 6.30 (hand sore again and Broni requesting my company in bed – how could I refuse my nine-stone girl (she says fat, I think not) so better go and leave you to wonder about me – who I was – who I am).