Feeling Pretty Good.

All things considered I feel pretty good today. I had the most splendid birthday, good friends-no one else dropped out-a wonderful lunch although I suspect Dory scared the hell of the charming 16 year old waiter, and so many kind messages from others. I lost count of what I drank but took it fairly slowly so was no worse for wear today.

Today is the day after. Dank, cold and wet it reminds me more October. I got up late then went for a jaunt in the country with my neighbour to the fine hostelries of the village of Sandridge. I'd been to The Rose and Crown before with my friend Kym. The Green Man was new to me. I enjoyed both although they were very busy.

Back home I'm slow cooking a lamb Tandir, shoulder marinated in olive oil, rosemary, lemon juice, salt, pepper and dried oregano. Judging by the smell I'm in for a treat. Handel plays in the background and I can feel some reading coming along. I'm relieved I still have the best part of week recuperating. Work does not feel at all enticing at the moment.

Gently does it I think for the next few days, still tired and having broken sleep but hoping volume of sleep rather than quality bears fruit in the long run. Last post of August today, see you all in September.

I Heard a Voice.

That was Different.

My mum was a great expert on making not a lot go a long way. She grew up in poverty and learned the hard way. Thrift was so normal to her that she almost forgot that when times were no longer so hard it was okay to be a little self indulgent.

After growing up in these conditions I have very mixed views on offal. I've always loved kidneys. Tripe made me sick. And liver was only good on certain days. She cooked it forever as most people of her generation did. So now I cook I've been a little sceptical of this staple of poverty cooking. Always up for a challenge though I spent a grand total of 37p on a piece of liver to try. The result, seared 90 seconds on each side was a revelation. Mum would have had a fit but it was delicious. Definitely worth another go some time.

Another day has ticked by. More people have dropped out of my birthday lunch. It can't be helped sometimes but having to repeatedly contact the restaurant to change the order is a nuisance. I'm dreading switching to phone on in the morning to find people unable to attend. Let us hope that those of us who do make it have a great lunch.

I think a week down the line from work that I am recuperating. True the sleep has not been the best but at least I don't feel pressured. Mood is still around +1, good but not quite where I would like to be. But it is better than being depressed.

Maybe see you all tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.

Altered Intentions.

It's the weekend again. My first week off has gone so quickly. Thank goodness for having another week to go. The dreams go on but not quite as impacting as in recent days. You may recall my intention was to go to Borough Market today with the incomparable Dory but sadly she text to say she had a migraine so couldn't make it. Having got up any way I wasn't really sure what to do. I could have gone alone or I could postpone. The latter option took precedence so I boarded the bus to St Albans.

And what a lovely day I had. The sun shone, the French market was in town and I finally managed to have lunch in Thai Rack about 15 years since my last visit. The main course was disappointingly bland but the starter was good so my plan for the night before graduation still stands.

The market was good and I came away some more of those wonderful terrines like I mentioned earlier in the week. Quail, boar and venison flavours this time. I then retired to the old pub The Boot which has stood there since before the Wars of the Roses for a refreshing ale.

Back at home I have to work out what to do next. Not feeling that hungry so perhaps a coriander and cheese omelette will suffice. Then head for The Hedgehog later but not for a while. The order is placed for Sunday. We're down to 10 but hopefully we will have fun. 46, hurtling towards 50-scary? Not really. I am what I am and can't change it.

I Heard a Voice.

Now That I can, Why Can't I?

Cryptic title? Well it's simple really, despite not having to work for some time, no rushing to do things, being able to sleep in and take life more gently I still can't escape the dreams and the anxieties that they provoke. I have no need to worry about work yet last night what did I do? Dream of work. I was up 3 times in the night. Fortunately I was eventually able to get away for a while. Had enough of dreams ruining my holiday.

After such a broken night it has been nice to have a brighter day. A squally shower just went overhead but the torrents of yesterday have not been repeated. I took a drive out to a country pub that I had noticed on my travels. Actually I saw the sign on the main road and took a hair raising trip down a narrow country track only to discover said pub was about to close. I guess I must try it at another time. So on the way back I popped in The Crooked Chimney which featured on the Morse episode called Who Killed Harry Field? Long way from Oxford. It's a lovely old pub but slightly ruined by that awful chain makeover. In fact I know 3 local pubs in that chain and all have potential to be so much nicer.

Back at home I was about to marinate my leftover beef for a vindaloo when Beka rang. Great to chat to her before her holiday. Curry is now on after a short marinade. Almost set to order Sunday's birthday feast. A couple have dropped out but apart from another couple orders are in. Need to e mail that off before heading out to meet Dory tomorrow. No doubt we will go for the belly pork roll at Roast - a bit of a staple of ours.

Probably won't be on here tomorrow but hopefully see you all on Saturday.

I Heard a Voice.

A Biblical Downpour.

God it is wet out there. It has been hurling it down almost all day. The car park at the back of my flat is like a lake, I got soaked through in town and I'm not sure I've seen rain like this since I was in Japan. It is of Biblical proportions! Miriam is going to Glyndebourne today, don't give her much chance for her picnic.

Rain aside you fine me tired but okay. The troubled sleep came back again last night. It is almost like it was when I smoked. No full ashtray now though. I haven't had a cigarette since May 2014 and despite being 2 stone heavier I do not regret giving up. Rarely been tempted and am determined to continue.

Despite the return of the bad dreams it is good to be resting. I spent too long at work really, needed some nothing time before this. But it wasn't to be. My mood is on the + side but not too up. Just nice. I'm busy sorting my birthday plans. The Waggoners have asked for orders in advance and it is always a challenge co-ordinating 11 replies in just a couple of days. Friday I plan to be at Borough Market with Dory. Maybe my holiday time is going too quickly. But the older we get the quicker it goes.

Let's hope the sun returns soon, don't want my birthday celebrated in a monsoon.

I Heard a Voice.

The Sleep of the Dead.

I think my days of bad sleep finally caught up with me last night. I ended up sleeping for 12 hours. There were dreams but not disturbances. Curiously enough in those dreams mum features a lot. No one else just the 2 of us. I was often anxious around her in life so too in my dreams. For all intents and purposes I was dead to the world though. Must have needed it.

On late waking the rain was still pouring down. Sadly the wet weather did not do enough to save the 5th Test. A curious Ashes series. And now until next year cricket is all over again. Cue the NFL in a couple of weeks.

As is my wont during the holidays after a little shopping I popped out to a country pub. The Sun in the village of Lemsford was today's venue. Lovely little village, wouldn't mind living there if money was no object. Back at home my opera adventures continue with Die Entfuhrung Aus Dem Serail. After this post it is back to Lexi's book-I'm determined to finish it this holiday.

The next question is do I have Pimm's or tea? The Pimm's season is fast running out and I have a nearly full litre bottle so needs to be used up. But on such a wet day? Maybe not.

Back soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Come On Rain!

Welcome to Sunday. The sweltering heat of the last couple of days has partially dissipated into an overcast wet day. It is raining at the Test. Can the rain stay on until 6.00 tomorrow evening forcing an abandonment to save England? Somehow I doubt it.

As it comes down steadily outside I'm listening to Mozart's Ascanio in Alba and enjoying the peace of my holiday. It is true I have had breaks since Christmas but on all of them I was rushing round doing things. Now I can finally rest. Well I could if you dreams would stop-yes I woke anxious and irritated again this morning.

That said I had a lovely lunch of rabbit and prune terrine on toast. I bought the terrine when the French market visited a while ago. The French do do terrines so well. A highlight of my Christmas holiday is making a terrine of coarse belly pork, bacon, garlic and herbs. It is very good although the intensity of the garlic-I reduce the amount-can be a little overwhelming to some. I suspect I will have to work up to Christmas Eve this year so may have do the celebration on my own at home. But I don't want to think about work now.

Rare roast beef is on the cards later. Good Rioja too. Sometimes I am so English. My plan is to enjoy cooking over the next couple of weeks. Next Sunday is my birthday so big lunch out. Might have the odd beer or two too! See you all in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

Not Exactly a Talisman.

My original plan was to post yesterday under the title "A Better Class of Drunk". But events made me deviate. On blisteringly hot day I went to day 2 of the 5th Test at the Oval for what I hoped was England fighting back. You may recall that I attended day 2 of the 2nd Test at Lord's hoping for an England fight back. Am I a curse for England? A talisman gone wrong? On both occasions I was sat next 2 slightly upper class England supporters getting more and more pissed by the hour. On both occasions Australia piled on the runs. And on both occasions England's batting was blown away. As many of my friends have pointed out I really shouldn't go to the Test if I bring that much bad luck on the England team.

The reference to class reflects the splendour of Lord's. It really is so civilised even the drunks are polite. Do I dare go next year? Charlie and I already have plans to try to see Pakistan at Lord's.

My night was not good. Tense, anxious but ridiculous dreams woke me 3 times. I am turning into my mum. I was up at 10.30, unheard of on a holiday. Shopping is done, it was remarkably quiet. I had coffee and lunch with my friend and colleague James-he was very hungover. I'm now home on a sweltering day watching England trying to save the Test and contemplating Pimm's. It is a good job the Ashes are already won. No one expected 5 such uneven contests. It truth 2 utterly flawed teams have taken it in turn to be awful. Thank goodness Australia chose to do so at Cardiff in 1st Test.

I have mackerel planned for tonight then roast beef tomorrow. Finally managed to track down a Rioja I like that has not been in stock for weeks. The holidays are started.

I Heard a Voice.

And so to Rest.

After a long and at times bumpy road this year is finally over. Is it really 8 years since I moved up here? Sometimes I have nostalgia for those early days when the coming of a new academic year would bring out my passion, drive and semi manic approach to mental health. In truth those days were hard too. Recalling the last few months of my life on here along with all you kind people who read my ramblings I have not always been at my best. I have despaired, I have given up, I have been perplexed and I have been defeated. But now at long last I can have a little over 2 weeks rest.

I got home a bit early today as I met my supervisor Jaz for coffee this afternoon. I came home with a new linen suit courtesy of a sale I passed by-I'm too fat to comfortably fit into my old one. Do I wear it tomorrow for the Oval? It depends if the sun is out. It's been mainly Australia today so far but if we can get another 2 wickets before the close it could be evenly matched. I'm meeting my friend Charlie around 11.15 tomorrow morning at the Alec Stewart gate. Never been there before so it might take some searching. With luck a less one sided day than my trip to Lord's in July.

The plan for the holiday is mainly to rest. I need it. The odd glass of Pimm's perhaps, I made some when I got home, a country pub or 2, Cambridge, Borough Market with Dory. But mainly a time to do little but empty my busy mind.

More will follow on my adventures after the cricket. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

A Hint of Chill.

Each August as the days slip by to my birthday I begin to notice the longer nights. The humidity is here too but still warm enough to keep the windows open. And then it happens. The merest hint of autumnal chill. I noticed it when I woke around dawn on Monday morning and closed the window. It is coming. This summer has gone so quickly. Less than 2 weeks to September.

Away from the future I made it through another day. A fierce Thai belly pork curry is bubbling away on the hob. It's not a day for opera. But it is a day to reflect on my lovely evening with Ros last night. Moroccan and Lebanese food, much thought on how far we have both come in our battles, joy and laughter as we looked back, looked now and looked forward. It is on days like that that I realise how well I have done battling my illness. Let us hope I can recall them on the dark days. Ros too has fought hard, made a life and put the demons in their place. Well at least most of the time. I doubt either of us would have believed that in the late 1990s when we lost touch. I am pleased she found me on here; good people are hard to come by.

It seems I almost bumped into my friend Kevin on Saturday. I knew he was in London to watch West Ham and Leicester. It transpires though that we both visited the BP exhibition but at different times. What a shame. Shame about the result too although he was happy.

In but a little while I will be at the Oval. The cricket season is drifting away. That too is another sign of the coming of autumn. Autumn, time for the NFL and the Rugby World Cup. Could be a great few weeks ahead.

I Heard a Voice.

You Can't Run Away From Yourself.

Sunday is here again. Hard to believe that in exactly 2 weeks I will turn 46. There is a lovely Sunday lunch at The Waggoners planned for that day. As I sit at home writing my latest post La Boheme accompanies me along the way. A walk is in the offing after that.

My meeting with Sarah was a lot of fun. So much to catch up on over ribs and dim sum, cold beer and summer warmth. We did do the BP Exhibition and enjoyed it very much. She regaled me with stories of Thailand and her wild and sometimes out of control sister. She said something that really struck a chord with me "everyone in Thailand is running away from something". Words mirrored by the great Bob Marley "but you can't run away from yourself". Oh I recall those words during my battles with mental illness in the 1990s. I even have chapter in A Pillar of Impotence entitled "Itinerant Madness".

Wherever I go I cannot run away from who I am. Yes brief respite through social links, occasional overindulgence and travelling to different places. Yet wherever I go and with whom I cannot not be me. Should we embrace self with all its flaws? If we don't it can lead to dark places.

Today I'm not in a dark place. There are but a few days left until my break. Next evening I will spend with Ros eating Lebanese food. Then at the end of the week off to the Oval for the 5th Test. That will mark the start of my holiday-hooray!

I Heard a Voice.

Wet and Reflective.

The last 2 days have been characterised by stormy downpours and grey incessant fine rain that makes one wet through fairly quickly. I have been quite lucky in dodging the rain but I have not dodged the cerebral downpour that is reflecting on my own failings as a practitioner. Custom dictates that I seek feedback for my work. I tend to do it in August when not much happens. I'd never really reflected on it until I used the data for my MSc. Much is glowing, some is not. The strange thing is I know exactly which way it will go for all of them if they bother to respond.

I have never been very good at dealing with my own fuck ups. My supervisor in my last job in Kent was very good at keeping me grounded, helping me not to beat myself up too much and to calm down when I met people who annoyed me. I think I need some of that grounding. I really need to calm my emotion and know that I have to work just as hard with those I do not warm to as I do to the others. Failing is part of the job.

But it is the weekend so I will try to set aside my own weakness. Tomorrow I meet my New Zealand friend Sarah. We were due to meet a couple of weeks ago but wet weather and me struggling mentally made for a postponement. So we're off to Chinatown. Was going to suggest the BP Portrait Exhibition after. Then on Monday I see Ros again. I'm so glad she came back into my life. She helped me fight the feeling I get when I'm low that no one really wants to see me. We both had our battles and we emerged in our 40s as different more reflective people. So here is to old friends on a day of self beating.

I Heard a Voice.

Reviewing What Didn't Happen

Over the past couple of days I have been reviewing some of my posts from 2012 on here. Before you start scurrying back it was a time of deaths including my mum, of an epic battle of equality versus inequality which did not go in my favour, of an award that wasn't won, of roast goose for Christmas, and a decision I made that never came to fruition.

So where am I 3 years on from that time? Well my decision taken almost exactly 3 years ago today to leave the University failed to materialise. I did try and continue to do so. Admittedly I took some time out from that decision to commit to do the MSc at the suggestion that change that would benefit me would come my way. Well the only bit that came true is I can now add MSc to my MA (Cantab) and PGCE. Nothing else has changed despite hints, suggestions, supportive words; in the end nothing changed.

It has been hard looking back on what might have been. Often plans do not work out. That has certainly been true for me during that time. So do I go in a different direction? If so which one? All paths I've taken have led nowhere except back to where I started.

At this stage of the year I'm running on empty. There are only 7 days to go. Then a break. A break to do nothing and everything. I really need to recharge, discover some energy and motivation to face what I know will happen come 28th September when it all kicks off again.

As for now I'm listening to Handel, supper is complete and I think some reading is in order. I'm really enjoying Lexi's book and it really is very good at explaining life with depression.

I Heard a Voice.

A Touch of Baroque.

Greetings on a sultry Hertfordshire day. Very warm out there and muggy. Not the day to choose to clean but that is what I did when I got home. It needed doing as Miriam is coming tomorrow. But today has not all been about tedious domesticity.

The Ashes are won, my hair is cut, the fridge is full, a fierce Thai beef curry is under way, a nice Chablis chills for tomorrow and I'm listening to Vivaldi. I do like a touch of Baroque music sometimes. Today's is just on the radio to accompany my ventures at home.

Preparations for my birthday and graduation have progressed; lunch at The Waggoners for the former and staying at The Lower Red Lion for the latter. It will be nice to spend a couple of days in St Albans. Will definitely try that Thai restaurant I rediscovered on my last trip.

Tomorrow we are off to Knebworth House to watch the jousting. Not seen any in years. Then home to mine for roast chicken and the aforementioned Chablis. I will enjoy the weekend while it lasts.

More soon.

I Heard a Voice.

I Chose the Wrong Day.

Cricketing lore suggests that a team cannot win a Test in a session but can lose it. Had anyone said in the first week of June as I headed off to Spain on my holiday that England would to all intents and purposes have won the Ashes by lunch time on the 1st day of the 4th Test at Trent Bridge I would have laughed openly. Yet here we stand on the first evening with the outcome all but assured.

I have watched Test match cricket for 40 years. As a 5 year old I witnessed the destruction of Lillee and Thomson in 1975. And who can forget Botham's Ashes in 1981. I recall the West Indies "Black Wash" in 1984 and in horror the slaughter of England in 1989 that led to so many years in the wilderness. But never a day like today. In fact no one has ever witnessed a day like today.

England bowled Australia out for 60 runs in less than 2 hours and the Ashes were decided. Stuart Broad took 8 wickets for 15 runs in 9.3 overs. It was the quickest 1st innings to a Test in history. Australia are now in tatters more than 200 behind on 1st innings and the 2nd day hasn't even started.

Nigel my brother in law saw the destruction of the Aussies at Cardiff. My friend Kevin the hammering at Edgebaston. And I saw us being murdered at Lord's. I certainly picked the wrong day to go. But there is another, for I will be there at the Oval on day 2. Come on England.

I am smiling after today. A little bit of interesting news just came my way too. Early days but at least my mood is still on the + side. That's a change after recent weeks.

I Heard a Voice.

Listening to Callas.

Hi, I'm back. After the rocky road for possibly one night only there is no storm in my mind. I'm not anxious. I'm not frightened of what tomorrow will bring. My mood is in the + region for the first time in a while (at least on a work night). I'm home and relaxing.

I had a halloumi salad for supper, the salad was healthy if not the halloumi. The TV is off thank goodness and I have turned my mind once again to opera.

The truth about my love of opera is that I'm a complete novice who knows little about it. Yes I sang to the highest of levels in a former life but opera is something else. I always marvel when I hear the Queen of the Night ( it played in my car on the way home) in The Magic Flute. The complexity astounds me, the technique and breathing control. The power. I'm still learning.

Tonight I chose the von Karajan 1956 recording of Verdi's Il Trovatore. I've listened before but not taken enough time to notice. But I did today and realised for the first time that I was listening to the great Maria Callas. It is magnificent.

So I have stepped off the merry go round for one night. It feels so good. A little reading perhaps and then blot out tomorrow. That will come soon enough. Now I will immerse myself in sublime culture.

I Heard a Voice.

The World Before E Mail.

Do any of you remember what the world was like before e mail was invented? Seems hard to imagine now. I came across it at a young age as an undergraduate at Cambridge. Yes we had a primitive internal form of it even back then in the 1980s. It was endorsed and used by those of a scientific persuasion but I was hardly one of them. My fear of technology goes back a long way.

Dad set up my first e mail account in about 2000. It was left unused for years but in time I began to embrace it. After some time his provider was swallowed up by a larger provider. It still worked though. I feared I would have to start all over again when he gave up on his provider and went elsewhere. But no they assured me it was free to use and would carry on.

The further march of time drew this old e mail account deeper into the present. Can any of us access anything without an e mail address? No of course not. All well and good until last week. Then it died. The support line at the company that took over the company referred me back to a company that no longer exists-useless! I have no access to my archive and am receiving no new e mails. Fortunately I was able to access and print off the contacts. But it meant starting again.

After a long and painful process I have a new account, all the addresses are loaded and e mails sent for change of address. Next problem is the bank, the university, Lancing, Selwyn, Cambridge....and on it goes. With much of this I have no idea where to start. Technology may be wonderful but only if it works.

The world seemed a much simpler place before all this happened. All this has increased my recent volatility and mood and anxiety continue to afflict me. So the struggles of recent days go on.

Time ticks and ticks, I have no idea where I'm going but it feels a very rocky road at the moment. On 21st I step off the bus for a while. At the risk of wishing my life away I can't wait.

I Heard a Voice.

Quiet Out There.

In a most unusual move for a Sunday I was up at 10.20 am and in my car by 11.15 am. The roads were pretty empty leading to a relaxed journey. Now loaded down with shopping that I normally do on a Saturday I back home and listening to Haydn.

The reason for such an early start was a bad night. Yes the nightmares have returned and I was up 3 times before I finally gave up on sleep. Each waking moment added to my anxiety that started to build pretty much as soon as I got home yesterday. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow.

It was good to be away though. The wedding was sublime although the photos I have seen certainly show me in the "I've gained 2 stone in weight since I gave up smoking" light so not so splendid. I think walk is in order this afternoon.

I did manage to catch up with an old friend who was not at the wedding. And she disturbed a wonderful memory. The highlight of Ken Hom's marvellous book A Taste of China is the fantasy pork, a slow braised and delectably sweet ham with star anise, soy, rice wine, Szechuan peppercorns, ginger and spring onions. I cannot believe I had forgotten all about it. I must resurrect it next time I have friends round.

Actually I do have a friend coming tonight. My intention was for beef  but I saw such a good shoulder of pork joint I had to buy it. Smoked haddock for lunch. Then perhaps reading before a walk. Have a great Sunday everyone.

I Heard a Voice.