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.
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