A Year On.

We never really got the promised rain today. A year ago the UK was deluged by weeks of rain thus ending the shortest drought in history. Was I expecting a return to that? Not sure but all we got was a fine misty rain as I drove in this morning. They say tomorrow the glorious days will end with a return to autumn. We shall see.

Just as I thought it was slowing down the last 2 days have been carnage and confusion. I've never known it like this in May. The phone did not stop ringing, I had to clear up the debris of last night's crisis-I didn't get home until 7.30-, and I had too many people asking me to dig them out of the shit after they had done no work. I have no idea why some people come to me. They really ought to see others. But it seems I have something of reputation for good advice so they keep coming. What really interests me is mentally ill people yet they still come. I have seen more this year than ever before. The big question is have I been successful?

A nice thing did happen yesterday. 2 letters arrived from the Vice-Chancellor's Office. Believe it or not he knows who I am despite my insignificance. I was expecting 1 as I knew that have once again been nominated for the award I failed to win last year. I thought the 2nd must be clerical error but it was not. I have also been nominated by staff for another award. How odd is that? I expect they will take last year into account so I'm not even expecting to be shortlisted. Yet I fail to fathom the vaguaries of the great and good. I will keep you all posted.

Having dined on leftover curry I settled down with Handel and made a Shpeherd's Pie. This is one with a difference as it has an Indian twist. The leftover Moghul lamb got blitzed and made into said pie. Mum would be proud of my thrift. It will cool tonight then into a hot oven tomorrow but it still won't be as good as hers. I don't like cooking in agas but having done it at dad's they are excellent for Shepherd's Pie.

2 days to go then a rest; I feel I need it despite the short week. Then we hurtle ever onward towards turning 44 in August. Where did all that time go?

I Heard a Voice.