Parking in most towns in England is a nightmare. It also gets worse with every passing year. Some years have passed since I last drove in Cambridge; viewing it now I'm not sure I will risk it again. When one has lived and worked in a place for some time one learns all the free parking areas. That is especially true working in the community; and all the good coffee shops.
Today I took a little trip into town and parked in my old road. I felt a strange pang of nostalgia there. Then I thought about it for a while and remembered the utter loneliness of being a new comer there and also the fear and anxiety I had creating a job from scratch. Thinking about that I realised that it was exactly 7 years ago today that I moved to that road.
Did I think I would be in the same job 7 years later? Not really. I had never done a job for more than 2 years before. Someone said when I started you will either last 6 months or 20 years. 20 years, I cannot imagine that doing what I do now.
Back at home I'm listening to the marvellously haunting songs of Michael Head. It only just occurred to me that most are in minor keys. Beka's parents knew Michael Head. Tortured man I would imagine. I've been practising my reading for Saturday, a Shakespeare sonnet. And reminding myself of my speech.
I drive down tomorrow for happy days. This has been a long time coming. See you all when I see you.
I Heard a Voice.
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