Tinned Mackerel and Toast.

Sometimes it is good to keep things simple. Those who know me will laugh at that comment. Given the apparent complexity of the many foodie posts I put on here it seems ludicrous. But sometimes I do just that. Tonight it was just tinned mackerel and toast. I rarely eat fish but I do like mackerel even if it is from a tin. Actually the cupboards were bare. Normally I shop on Saturdays but not today.

I spent the day in London with my fellow blogger Izzi from http://juggleglass.com/ . That's not her real name but I did meet her through her blog. She is far more successful at it than I am. But her audience is fickle just like mine. She has a PhD; I do not. But I do have 2 books to my name and a co written 3rd.

We indulged in some very nice dim sum in Chinatown. I used to be a regular visitor there but given the financial constraints of my recent years I have not been since August. Funnily enough the last friend I met there Erny has bipolar just like Izzi. What is it with me and bipolar? I have so many bipolar friends. Many of them think I have bipolar but I will never get that label; I'm too well for any shrink to bother with me now.

Now after my light supper I am listening to Benjamin Britten's Peter Grimes which I bought today. Great to hear opera in English-I don't understand German or Italian. In a round about by I have connections to Britten. As a child every year we all went off to sing in Aldeburgh in Suffolk. No one ever told us anything in those days, it was just here today and sing this. I know now that it was all part of the Britten Aldeburgh Festival. Our director, you know the one e buried before Christmas had been friends with Britten.

There is another connection in a tenuous way. Britten's partner both professionally and personally was Peter Pears who as an old boy from my old school. I sang in a very exclusive centenary service to remember him a couple of years ago.

I like Britten although it is one of my great regrets that I was never able to sing his wonderful Ceremony of Carols. Too old now.

My mood is up but not too much. Tomorrow I travel to Miriam's to watch the Superbowl. If there is a cyclical nature to my mood disorder, history tells me after that I go into the dark months. In April I will emerge again just as the sun tans my face. Another summer beckons, another birthday, then it starts all over again. Is life passing me by? I guess so. More soon.

I Heard a Voice.