Walking in My Shoes.

The new academic year is now 3 days old. It is Wednesday night and my current interest in Beethoven's String Quartets, no 13 Opus 130 in B Flat Major, carries on. I'm calm and relaxed despite a bumpy 2 days that followed a curiously quiet arrivals weekend and day 1. I'm fine and world is still spinning.

Yes we have had 2 significant crises, the first of which I dealt with with some aplomb. The second passed me by initially as I was teaching. But what a day for my manager who had to step in. An utterly flawed system, the constant buck passing, the panic and frustration were all so evident. By the end of the day she was shattered. That is what it can be like walking in my shoes if only for a day.

Tomorrow I will pick up from there. There are also 9 new referraals waiting. But I'm managing. Oh so different to a year ago.

Early days indeed but I'm growing in some confidence even without the buzzy mini mania of my early days there. I hope I can sustain it.

With that done and cast aside for a few hours my music and reading night has commenced. I didn't manage to start Our Man in Havana the other day as I'd hoped-got stuck into other things. Juggling 2 books and 2 magazines at once does not always work. That's partly why it takes me so long to read books. Add in 5 either live or recorded NFL games a week and my time disappears rapidly. But I must persist. Music and reading are good for me.

And that other great passion of mine, the beef was triumphantly rare, the Chinese dish of cucumber and pork stir fried with chilli bean paste, Szechuan peppercorns, chilli flakes and rice vinegar was magnificent and now I'm run out of cooking steam. With pay day arriving on Friday-the results of recent profligacy and buying spree have been largely repaired-my culinary adventures will continue to give balance to my life. And balance is so very good.

I Heard a Voice.

Not Yet Pensive.

Why do shops always seem to put sales on the week before pay day? It's quite frustrating waiting. I will be reinforced on the bank front next Friday but probably too late for said sale. Not that I really need anything other than a pair of boots but I can be quite profligate at times-the joys of fluctuating mood antics.

Yet my usual Saturday shopping trip was not all despairing. The fridge is full, there is wine in the rack and I'm prepared for what could be a bumpy week.

Facebook can be quite maddening in its reminders of what happened on this day in previous years especially if it brings back bad memories. The post that popped up today was from 2012 a day on which I ended up in A&E with a student on the first day of term. Let's hope there is no repeat of that this year.

Given that we are on the cusp of my 10th year at the University I am not pensive or anxious. I suspect that will come tomorrow but I feel more prepared than for a couple of years. In the early years the new term brought out my mini mania, the buzzy times that I loved and drove me pretty much through until Christmas. Sadly no more.

In my preparation though my journey took me to London yesterday. Finding myself a little early I had a wander and marvelled at the diverse nature of Kilburn, exotic headscarves that look so smart and elegant on the many Muslim women, and dreads and rasta hats on so many men. Found a wonderful halal butcher with whole sheep in the fridge. I do like a good market. The meeting itself had a very positive outcome and will bring us more progress when it all kicks off.

Back to the weekend though, herring fillets for supper, sprats for lunch tomorrow, and roast beef for dinner. Mum grew up in a fishing town and had a love affair with fish all her life. Her excess put me off fish completely for a number of years, just got fed up with it. Slowly though I'm going back to it. And she so loved the fish of autumn, those herrings and sprats. I'm wary of bones but every once in a while I take the plunge. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

Taking the Lazy Option.

Rain permitting I normally walk between our two campuses rather than drive or catch the bus. I quite like walking although my post smoking weekend walks have subsided recently. It gives me time to think. Today in an act outrageous laziness I took the bus on a balmy September morning in the sunshine. I simply couldn't be bothered to walk. That said I had walked there and back the previous two days so not an entire week of gratuitous sloth. On the rare occasions I do get the bus I quite enjoy watching the world go by. Really should do it more when visiting other places.

It is now the evening of the Wednesday of my second week back at work and so far I haven't fallen off any cliffs. A couple of things have irritated me but I home with my opera and once I have completed my post I will set about starting Our Man in Havana. My latest escapade.

I kept simple earlier, bangers and mash with peas. But appearances can be deceptive for these were no ordinary sausages. They were Gloucester Old Spot. Is there a more glorious pork breed than the Gloucester Old Spot? I'm sure our wonderful Spanish friends would champion the acorn fed black pigs. And they would be right. But I would put each on the same pedestal of brilliance.

Verdi is my accompaniment tonight as I continue my surprising stability. Funny that I expected this close to the start I would be wracked with anxiety. I'm not though and that can only be a good sign. Mood is a little neutral but I can live with that. I must not forget that so many I have met on my journey never found the magic that for me is Risperidone. Recovery for all we trumpet it is a relative thing. I remained disturbed by the idea that it is a model. More on that soon as I have just been invited once again to teach a number of budding clinical psychology doctors. That will be fun.

And with that I will leave you, the book beckons. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Holding Court.

On my travels yesterday I learned that The White Horse at Burnham Green is changing hands. Tough old life being a publican so who can blame them for moving on. I'm hoping an establishment as old and well used as that remains but in this day and age who knows. Had a very good lunch there yesterday with a simple Caesar salad with ultra fresh crisp lettuce and some lovely marinaded anchovies.

My own efforts in the evening were not quite so successful, too much tamarind in the Rendang and stodgy awful rice. Back on the Sunday route today so a chicken stuffed with half a lemon, some thyme and rosemary has just gone in the oven to roast. Oh so such a splendid idea roast dinners on Sundays.

The Sunday vibe is sticking well today. I've listened to Handel and now moved on to the Coronation Mass. The paper is read and fears for tomorrow are limited.

That lack of fear partially stems from doing something different for a Monday. Once again I will be holding court in a training session. This time it is the Law School coming to hear my words of wisdom. Another huge group though which makes it much harder. Wisdom to convey or not I've rarely had a training session where it didn't go well. Let's hope the next instalment goes just as well.

The rest of the week looks uncomplicated apart from Friday when I have to go to London. There I have to make decision that may have far reaching consequences if I make the wrong call. Left in my hands I have no power to do anything yet once again I have the responsibility. Sometimes that sits very uneasily with me.

I Heard a Voice.

Saturday Chores.

Some days we need to just get on with it. Having neglected my flat during my lovely holiday time turned today towards domestic tedium. Dull but necessary but I now have a clean bathroom, kitchen, less dust and clean sheets.

On to much nicer things I made some Rendang paste which is now fried off with lemongrass and beef skirt, simmering in coconut milk with fine cinnamon from Spice Mountain and tamarind. That will bubble away for the next 2 and 1/2 hours until tender for supper. I actually did well at the butcher with good bacon, Gloucester Old Spot sausages, cheese and a chicken to roast tomorrow.

The week has been okay. I rather underestimated the quarter of the moon in my last post, a couple of days later we were treated to a glorious full moon. Didn't have any related crises at work, you will be surprised how many of us really are lunes. A week in I still feel fairly okay. In a better place than a year ago with some training and knowledge even if extra duties are the last thing I need. We interviewed on Thursday and am praying the woman we offered to will accept-she was that good.

Of course the onslaught won't really start until next weekend. That is when the home students come back and term starts Monday week.

Had a long chat with dad last night, good to speak. Must pay him a visit soon. Miriam is away in Portugal and have missed talking to her. Must rectify that when she is back.

For now though it is time for tea, a little American football from Thursday night and then perhaps a film after my Rendang. Have a good weekend all of you.

I Heard a Voice

Hot Enough Yet?

A pale three quarter moon presides over a still, stifling evening. Night is drawing in on what has been the hottest September day since 1911. That is a very long time. It was a day for Pimm's at the beach and paddling not sitting in an office. My travels took me out and I cooked as I walked. What a day.

I'm back in my reality. A little like the phoney war of 1939 where very little happened we are quietly waiting for the explosion that will be in a fortnight. I got a little bit done but it was hard. Not many people about today so quite laid back. When will it change?

All is not so well in my sporting world. Harlequins and West Ham both lost, the latter in a dismal arrogant disaster. Worse still the newly reformed Los Angeles Rams were truly embarrassed by their hated rivals in San Francisco. I'm still making my way through the 1st quarter and I shudder to think what I will see later. Not a good start.

Despite these setbacks I remain more upbeat than a year ago. I will sit on an interview panel on Thursday that will bring reinforcements. Will it be enough? Any extra helps. A brave new world may be ahead with processes and offerings radically changed. Such changes inevitably take time so maybe when I write next September we will know more.

In the mean time a day at a time. Today brought new boots and simple chicken marinated in thyme, Dijon mustard, honey and rapeseed oil. Good things must be appreciated and each helps me along.

Keep going out there in this heat. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Twice Cooked Pork.

Hello on this lovely Sunday afternoon. How are you all? Hoping those who can are having a day of rest, of fine food and general goodness as the weekend progresses.

And me? I'm home listening to Handel and slow roasting shoulder of pork. My love of pork is well known on this blog but pork roasted 2 days in a row is unusual even for me. The wonderful Szechuan dish twice cooked pork is an all time favourite of mine but today's twice cooked does not refer to that this weekend.

Rather having sublime loin of pork with roast cauliflower yesterday at The Hole in the Wall. For those not in the know it is owned and run by former Masterchef finalist Alex Rushmer and is truly magnificent. Check it out http://www.holeinthewallcambridge.com/ .

Following on in a slightly more amateur way is my own effort at a lovely Sunday dinner. Just seasoned with salt and pepper it will roast for 4 hours on a low heat and be served with roast potatoes and 3 different vegetables which have yet to be selected. I always eat well on a Sunday.

This is a particularly important Sunday though in the sense that after several months break the NFL returns to our screens and each week I'm consumed by 4-5 games to feast my eyes on. I enjoyed Thursday night's efforts from Denver. Of more interest though will be my beloved Rams on late tomorrow night against the hated 49ers. History will be made as the storied Rams franchise plays their first game based back where they belong in Los Angeles.

I'm not too worried about the other reality tomorrow. The alarm as noted yesterday will be a severe test. That is always a given. I haven't looked at any e mails for days so that will be the first task to wade through. I guess the rest we will find out when I get there.

Back to Handel now and more reading.

I Heard a Voice.

Sepia Fades Too.

There are not too many Cambridge Colleges that I have not been in. Some of the graduate colleges like Wolfson, St Edmund's and Hughes Hall have not been on my journey. If I were to have my time again I would have applied to Hughes Hall for the PGCE.

Of the undergraduate colleges only Christ's, possibly Peterhouse-my memory is hazy on that one-and Magdalene are unvisited by me. On Thursday afternoon I strayed in Magdalene territory with a visit to The Pickerel Inn. Magdalene was the last bastion of pure testosterone in Cambridge as it only admitted women in my time there. It was a rugger buggers college in those days full of public school toffs who mourned the passing and the fall of masculinity in their college.

The Pickerel as I suspected is adorned with Magdalene sporting photos from the 1990s. Not long after I was there yet before most of my students were actually born. All those pictures, I hold similar ones of my time rowing, on the rugby pitch and captaining the university at American football back at dad's, seemed so important then. We favoured sepia in our arrogance. And so as I looked at these pieces of history I realised that sepia like us in the pictures fades to obscurity.

In years to come will I be recalled as piece of Cambridge history fading away on a pub wall? Maybe. It shows the transient nature of life, education, and eventual responsibility.

Back home now after 2 colleges, various friends, the aforementioned Pickerel, Jayne's house, The Boot, The Red Lion and The Rose and Crown in Histon, and lunch at the acclaimed Hole in the Wall at Little Wilbraham today, my holiday is almost complete.

I think I feel better than this time a year ago. The anxiety seems less. But I'm not looking forward to that alarm calling to muster on Monday morning that will be the prelude to the charge of the heavy brigade when the students arrive in 2 weeks.

And so on a drizzly autumn day, having passed the fields of stubble in the black earth of East Anglia, time has past and will now move on. Take care out there.

I Heard a Voice

Is It Finally Working?

The air is heavy and still. The sun finally burst through just as I was leaving a country pub. Is this what we call an Indian Summer? I don't know what constitutes such an event but I sure as hell am glad I'm not in the at times stifling office at work.

After another night of bad dreams I woke up very anxious. I really struggled to get out of bed as well as chastising myself for not doing so. Why has the anxiety returned? I'm on holiday so what is there to worry about?

I suspect part of it is the ongoing saga of that wretched phone. When I saw Kiwi Sarah she commented on needing an upgrade. It was a year overdue. But I certainly wouldn't have bothered had I known it would be this much trouble. After my fourth trip to the shop the early signs are that it is finally working. A test text to Jayne elicited a response. Nothing back yet from Dory but I know she went back to work this week.

My trip to town was not wasted. I spent on a couple of vouchers that I was given, one by dad and one by work. Both have a few pounds and pence left over but not worth anything. My gleaming prize though is Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's mighty new book. I struggled to lift it let alone read it. But I looks forward to it. The other voucher from dad paid for a jumper in the sale at John Lewis. Once winter arrives that will be useful.

After shopping as I'm wont to do it was a country pub. This time The Goat at Codicote. Lovely village, can't understand why I haven't been back for 4-5 years.

Home now in time for Choral Evensong on Radio 3 and a glass of Pimm's. Yes I know it out of season but it is like summer's day out there and I want to cool down.

You won't hear from me until I'm back from Cambridge now. Until then, take care and I'll see you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Found the Culprit?

Another week, any time off session. I'm entering the second week of my leave and the bad dreams continue. Funnily enough the same thing happened last year. But I will move on.

Intent on trying to find out what is wrong with my new phone I set off comparatively early for town. Went back to the shop and they told me it has something to do with iCloud which I didn't even know I had on my old phone. Being the idiot that I am I'm not capable of sorting it out myself but will have to go back yet again with both phones. Let us hope that is the culprit. How did we ever get so dependent on such gadgets?

Life used to be simpler but alas no more. I didn't tarry long in town and popped by the butcher on my way home. So tonight there is liver and tomorrow a Thai chicken curry. Back at home I have Mendelssohn's Paulus playing and have been making a soup from Sam and Sam Clark's first Moro book. Just about to try it. Excellent! Peas, Iberico Jamon and mint. Hugely refreshing.

After soup is anyone's guess. Probably a little reading. But what? Do I turn once again to Ernest Hemingway? Or to my submarine book? Or more preparation for the NFL season that starts on Thursday? That off season certainly went fast.

Hope you're all having a good day? Greetings again to our French cousins who are currently outranking Brits in viewing my mumblings. Talking of which I've just gone over 39,000 hits. Pleased with that.

I Heard a Voice.

Sodden Pitches and Slippery Balls.

The last time I set foot on a rugby pitch to actually play was around the autumn of 1990. Yes that fateful year where my life plummeted into despair. Rugby had been a huge part of my life from aged 8 when I first stepped onto a muddy field at The Downs School near Bristol in 1977. A career of limited success, much mud, cold and rain ended with a torn leg muscle that fateful autumn 13 years later.

Yesterday I took a trip down memory lane and braved pouring rain and generally meteorological mayhem to watch Harlequins at Twickenham. Lovely but cold day out, wet but not too miserable and after much effort the Quins emerged victorious.

So another outing on what has proved to be a pleasant and in the main relaxing escape from the world. That said feeling in danger of once again taking on too much I have postponed a couple of catch ups with friends.

I now have 4 clear days of very little, just to chill. Then on Thursday I will be Cambridge bound. Another trip back into my past. For today I'm doing the usual reading, listening and cooking. Tonight's menu brings a joint of smoked gammon. I did invite my friend Mike but he is very much a creature of habit who only ventures out twice a week so I think it will be an invitation that will go unaccepted.

Perhaps a walk might be plan after the opera, could probably do with the exercise. See you later in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

The Ebbing Tide of Change.

Welcome to September. A month that I'm very fond of. The tide of summer is ebbing away, cooler days await, beautiful leaf falls, the NFL, and my annual 2 week break from the madness. Although still warm out there the overcast skies show certain change.

Having spent way too much on shopping, a small amount on lunch with Yang and a gentle drive home I'm now back with my opera and planning an afternoon of reading.

Plans for next week have finally emerged. Feeling slightly overwhelmed I've cancelled a couple of thing to simplify my life. Now it just lies with my first visit to Twickenham in over 25 years to watch Harlequins then catching the train next Thursday to Cambridge to visit Jayne and finally meet up with my former colleague Richard who now works up there.

Cambridge has defined so many sections my life. But sadly not recently despite my efforts. That said on the day that marks the 9th anniversary of my move to Hertfordshire I could live in worse counties. Okay so work at times derails me and sometimes the pressure gets too much but in the main I am settled in my adoptive county.

And few places in this county are finer that St Alban's where I met up with my friend Kevin yesterday. Such a good day, fine lunch at Little Marrakech, and visits to The Boot, The White Swan and The Lower Red Lion. St Alban's has some wonderful hostelries.

Thus I leave you on a quiet Friday afternoon at the beginning of another autumn, may it be good for all of you.

I Heard a Voice.