Someone once told me that the ancient Greeks believed that history was circular. I'm not certain whether it is or not but I fear we would be foolish to ignore the lessons of the past. This weekend I am revisiting my roots. Down in Kent with my dad for the first time since Christmas. It is good to be away although the study anxiety remains. I keep asking myself the question can I afford to spend more time away from my studies?
Often when I come down it is not just to see dad. I took him out for a late birthday dinner in the Butt of Sherry last night. He tasted gradvalax for the first time and really enjoyed it. I'm cooking my old staple belly pork today-it rests downstairs as I write filling the house with that wonderful scent of fennel seeds and garlic. A Moroccan salad of fennel, potatoes and orange will accompany it along with good bread.
Whilst out I had a cappuccino with a former colleague Lucie. Not seen her since the Kent launch of "A Pillar of Impotence". Great to catch up but also got the hint of a possible opportunity. Can't say much yet but if it works out and I decide to do it maybe I will come back closer to my roots. That old concept of time, it keeps evolving. Is it circular? Who knows. More on that if it ever comes to fruition.
After the belly and some good Rioja I will pay a visit to some friends who have recently moved house. Only to round the corner but there is always a welcome there along with several bottles of wine. Homeward bound after lunch tomorrow. The studies await, I'm having coffee with our splendid chaplain Allan and another week starts as we hurtle towards another milestone at Easter. But before it is mum's anniversary. Next Friday 2 years will have passed since she died so suddenly. Oh how time flies.
I Heard a Voice.
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