Hearing the shipping forecast on the radio is etched into my childhood memories. It long predates our move to the seaside town when I was almost 10. Who can forget those words that foretold impending danger "There are warnings of gales in..."? The context of why I recall this is a little more hazy. I suspect it played on the radio just before my mum's daily listen to The Archers. I detested the latter and still avoid like the plague but the shipping forecast always intrigued me.
Well the warnings of gales came thick and fast today as Storm Doris hit the UK in all its fury. In the grand scheme of things compared to other parts of the world we escape devastating storms in the main. The Great Storm of 1987 being the exception for my life time. I was caught in a typhoon in Japan in 1982 and my school friend Lisa survived intact a great hurricane that hit her home in Cayman in the late 1980s. She was not so lucky in 2004 when her place was wiped out and like a refugee sought shelter in the UK for several months.
When storms do hit it is chaos. I saw a downed tree on Digswell Road on my way home. There is lots of litter and leaves but that is about it for me. I fear for my colleague Rob as he tries to get home to Kent by train. Widespread disruption has hit the network. Of greater importance and putting it all in a sobering perspective a woman was killed in Wolverhampton by flying debris.
Tomorrow we rebuild and move on in the main. From here the storm appears to have also moved on. There will be other winter storms and we will flail around but spring will come.
Closer to home it has been a challenging week. My post at the weekend about feeling edgy and unsettled continued for a few days. Tuesday was particularly challenging. My mood slipped and my new found discipline in being slightly less self indulgent and healthier has also suffered. The exception was Sunday evening in terms of mood as my friends provided fine company and fun over glorious roast pork and Handel. But it was a temporary respite.
A few days down the line my mood has stabilised, I'm beating myself up for letting things slip and I'm wondering when the crazy demands at the University will ease a little. I was volunteered to do some teaching in two weeks time but given a vast remit, almost no guidance on what they want it has been hard to put something together. The whole of this morning was devoted to that. I made progress but I'm quite anxious about delivery.
The time will come and go and I will survive. Puccini accompanies my attempts to stay calm and say a day at a time, a task at a time. Tomorrow is another day.
I Heard a Voice.
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