Thunder in the Sky.

After a warm and humid day there is now thunder in the sky. It hasn't clapped yet and there is no rain but I feel it's coming. Sitting in an office where the air con is not great on such a day was hard going. Given that I worked late last night it was good to escape a little early.

As it is pay day I did a little shopping. Made a donation to the food bank which makes me feel momentarily virtuous but I really should stop being so self absorbed, greedy and profligate and give more. Dad is a great giver to charity. I am sadly more sporadic. Following my usual habit of checking the bank balance the night before to see what damage had been done I was trying to work out how on earth I spent so much in May. Then I remembered that I was paid early in April owing to the Bank Holiday so my opera trip to Cambridge contributed to my foolish spending. Worth it though.

I came away with a lot of fish and seafood. That will please my GP. Tonight it will be devilled mackerel. Found a pretty fresh one in Waitrose which is unusual for a supermarket. It is marinading now and will go under a grill after this post. My local friend Sarah is coming for dinner on Friday so it will be clams to start (they will be bought on Friday) followed by crab, chorizo and peas. On my question "do you like crab and chorizo?" her response was "is the Pope Catholic?" I'm looking forward to that. Prawns lie in wait tomorrow.

My recent high levels of anxiety seem to have evened out. There was a moment of irritation when a call came in about a suicidal student just as I was leaving. Funny how the word suicide makes people panic. It is an every day occurrence in my world. Sadly a lot gets lost in translation which does not do my calm and temper much good. But I guess that is why they employ me. Yet each time my tension asks me what can I do? I only have words and sometimes they are not enough.

It is only Wednesday so a little way to go. Some weeks go slowly and this is one. Let's hope the next two days are not too fraught. See you in June.

I Heard a Voice.

Restorative Charm of a Long Weekend.

Hello out there. I thought you would all enjoy a break from my mumblings. My last post was pretty bleak for indeed it was a bleak day. Moving on it all seems sadly ridiculous that something so stupid and inconsequential should throw me right out. But it did.

So on this long weekend I am pleased to let you know I am restored to a more stable place. That people were concerned is obvious from Ros and dad who both got in touch. So Ros as you enjoy your yurt experience at Hay on Wye for half term be assured that I am doing better.

The long weekend has been unusually busy. I went to my friend Karen's leaving do on Friday. Food wasn't up to much but we had a nice evening. She is only moving to an office 50 yards away but I'm pleased she is moving on.

Then last night I went to a 50th birthday party. In all honesty I wasn't really in the mood for a party but I'm glad I went. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves.

And so to Sunday. I didn't sleep well and woke quite early but I'm enjoying Handel, doing some reading, had a healthy lunch and am looking forward to roast pork later. I didn't invite anyone today, fancy spending time on my own.

At some stage I must update my mood diary. I don't think it will be happy reading but I keep telling myself it is just a blip not a trend. True anxiety has wreaked havoc at times my mood has not gone plummeting down into the depths of times gone by.

If you are reading in the UK enjoy the rest of the holiday. If abroad may Sunday be peaceful and restful.

I Heard a Voice.

They Call it an Act of God.

The first of a storm of nightmares broke over my troubled mind at 5 am. Wave after wave for three hours until I knew I had to get up. Today was the day I feared at the dentist. Struggling to get my anxiety under control I kept telling myself that it is only half an hour, there will be anaesthetic and the problem will soon be over.

Not at my best I tried hard this morning to do something rather than nothing. I didn't feel I could stay home until the appointment. Hours ticking by until I had to get in the car and make that move.

Insurance companies call them "Acts of God", events that cannot be predicted under any circumstances that also cannot be mitigated and guarded against. Who could have predicted that around 45 minutes before I intended to set off two cars collided right outside the entrance to the campus? The first we knew was the noise of an approaching helicopter that landed right next to my office to attend. The road was closed and the exit blocked.

For me game over. Anxiety exploding through the roof in an orgy of self pitying fear. Not the sheer terror that all those poor people experienced in Monday's tragedy. No a much more irrelevant but personal perfidious, insidious, creeping terror that knew no answer. Sapped of all energy I singularly failed to do anything productive, was grumpy, snappy, and generally unpleasant to everyone.

Some days it feels as if I have to pick up everyone who ever utters the word suicide and see them now. Heightened by my personal fear they too came today. And I was no good. Why do people think I can stop everyone feeling suicidal? On days when I'm spent and all at sea I cannot conjure up such miracles.

At the end of the day my boss asked if I was alright. Yes my struggles had been noticed. To mitigate for the reschedule I will work from home and not get drawn into whatever chaos may ensue that day.

Back home I'm listless, hot and lost. It should be opera night. My response to today has been to comfort eat, roast lunch, ice cream, wine gums. Not good. I should just make a salad but I don't want to do anything. Is the answer noodles and beer? I'm undecided.

Looking back on recent posts fear has been an ever present shadow to my life. Why won't it go? I'm not hurt, I'm still standing and tomorrow is another day. But at the moment I'm really struggling with this absurd fear.

I Heard a Voice.

Bringing Cheer on a Mournful Day.

In the epilogue to Charon's Ferry which I wrote in the spring of 2012 I pass comment on the war that has engulfed so many since 9/11. I quote "I have no doubt there will be more young people trying to bomb my country as they did in 2005". In a glimmer of hope that I note later that chapter "there were no more successful major terrorist attacks in the West between the 7/7 bombing and the end of my journey in the spring of 2011." Tragically as we have seen sporadically then dramatically last night my doom filled prophesy has come bursting out.

Words cannot express the sheer horror of a suicide bomber attacking the most vulnerable. Yet I know as an avid news follower this targeting of children has happened dozens of times across the Middle East, in Africa, in Afghanistan and Pakistan, in Turkey, in France, but not here.

I simply do not know what to say other than to quietly mourn the loss for so many across the world. What I can do on this tragic day is celebrate good and I do that through my writings, my work and my celebration of culinary and cultural beauty that still exists in this troubled world.

Keeping it simple I did clams with garlic, Albarino and parsley with a squeeze of lemon. Spain at its wonderful best. It was a little bit of an improvisation as the prescribed Manzanilla is not commonly found in Co Op convenience stores. So wine it was. Sublime.

On the cultural front Idomeneo strikes a note of wonder on a dark day. The sun is out to remind us that today is another day and on we march. And kind people in Manchester reaching out to those afflicted and thus prove that human kindness and compassion still exists for all those who have been bereaved. In Handel's Saul "O Fatal Day" is one of the most haunting parts of the whole Oratorio. It was indeed a fatal day but we will go on in courage, hope and trusting in each other.

I Heard a Voice.

What If?

Fear. Naked fear. That is what struck me from the moment my mind slipped from unconsciousness to consciousness this morning. As I posted yesterday I was expecting a return of the dreaded anxiety. It just came early and for a different reason. I am due to attend a meeting in London. Suddenly every detail from parking to tickets to alarm to tube to train strike and just about everything swamped my brain. Why does this happen? I hate it.

Anxiety is a disease of what if. When I say disease I mean in a literal sense that it makes me uneasy. I do not consider anxiety to be a mental illness whatever the Equality Act 2010 might say. We can have long and challenging and ultimately fruitless debates as to what is a mental illness. But I will not get into that today. What I do know is that the anxiety that is increasingly affecting me as it did my mum is the fuel that stokes the fire of depression. It always plays its part. Whilst my mood issues are a little more complex than what some term unipolar depression it does play a huge part in the struggles I have in my life.

After an hour or so fighting such ridiculous demons I gave up and got up. A few hours later I have life a little more in perspective. Haydn is calming me. My lunch of simply pan fried sardines dusted in seasoned flour with a squeeze of lemon was inspiring and I have roast beef to look forward to. Gary and Ali are coming for their last Sunday roast for a while as for the next few weeks they are hosting family from Canada. Much as I'd like to cater for all of them my flat is too small.

The wider picture shows political mayhem. I rarely make political statements on here but is it just me that thinks Theresa May is trying very hard to lose an election she should be romping away with? Why alienate your core voters? Actually I see all the manifestos as being fantasy, arrogance and alienation making me reconsider what I will do and who to vote for. That I am now unenthused is a shameful place to be for someone who relishes the great gift and privilege I have to vote for my future. Political comment now over for what I hope is a very long time.

In other news, today marks exactly three years since I gave up smoking. Never thought I would say that. I did balloon in weight as evidenced by my graduation photo but I'm working hard to lose that. Since starting my diet in January I have lost a further half stone. True I can be a little wayward with that diet but as my GP said the other day "everyone is entitled to a fry up sometimes".

Enjoy what is left of Sunday. Wish me well for my trip to London tomorrow, naturally I will be fine.

I Heard a Voice.

So to Spain!

Hail and salutations, how goes it? Saturday afternoon is coming to an end, I have put some opera on and I'm preparing tonight's feast. Last night's efforts were such a triumph, I wonder if I can match them? Tonight's inspiration takes me to Spain. Yes I return once again Sam and Sam Clark's original book Moro.

 It was a shopping trip that inspired me to deviate from South East Asia and head back to Europe. Town was packed today as there was a street food market. All manner of wonderful stalls selling food from all over the world. I bumped into my old friend Michael and his family for the first time in over a year. In all the exoticism though I remained steadfast to an old foible that I hate getting my hands dirty when there is nowhere to clean them. So for all the temptation I didn't partake. I went instead to see Yang for a glass of beer and wonton soup.

Shopping after I found both swordfish and sardines so will go back to healthy living tonight and tomorrow lunch time. The swordfish is marinating in oil, pimenton, onion, garlic, cumin and lemon juice ready to be griddled later. I made a sweet tomato sauce from the book to go with it, it is infused with cinnamon. Served with it will be seared chicory with a sherry vinegar dressing. All washed down with a glass of Albarino. Viva Espana!

It's a shame I haven't worked out how to post pictures on here. I did a tentative experiment earlier but it didn't work out as I'd hoped. I will learn one day.

The rest of my afternoon was spent cleaning. I hate that but did have a feeling of virtue after. These things have to be done.

Mentally I feel much better than earlier this week but given that I must return to the dentist for more drastic and no doubt uncomfortable treatment on Wednesday it is only a matter of time before my anxiety comes back to me. Is it the curse of getting older? Balding, okay. Greying, fine. Fatter, manageable. Anxiety, hell! And with it always comes the risk my mood will plummet. But not tonight. I will feast, read and listen. Have a great Saturday.

I Heard a Voice.

The Orient is Back.

During my near decade in Hertfordshire I have always been able to buy a vast range of oriental ingredients in Hatfield where I work. In my time, well at least when I discovered them, there have been three different shops. My history with Far Eastern food goes ways back to the early 1980s when I visited Japan and Hong Kong and was mesmerised by the food of the latter. History does not record when I first cooked Chinese food but it must be at least 30 years ago.

With great sadness I learned in the last year that the remaining oriental supermarket...and given its size the name fits and probably contributed to its demise...had closed down. Finding myself short on supplies I had to trek down to London to replenish my stocks. That was until today when I found the rumour I heard was true and a new more compact store had opened. And it is great. I came home with a few staples but most importantly highly prized dried shrimps.

Tonight's culinary was amongst the finest I have ever done. A Thai yellow prawn curry that originated with David Thompson the greatest non Thai expert on Thai food in the world via Rick Stein and was quite simply superb. I do sometimes post pictures of my culinary triumphs and this one elicited comments that the photo looked like it was from a cook book. So very pleased.

The weekend is upon us and the sun finally appeared after three wet days. I made Pimm's and am now listening to Beethoven's Fidelio. I have been spoiled by opera this week. Back in my flat on my own for the first time in a month I must attend to domestic tedium tomorrow. That aside I relish the food, the wine, the books and the music that I have coming up.

May your weekend be as promising as mine appears to be. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice

Out of Touch.

Incessant rain has marked today. It has been pouring down since mid morning. In days gone by mum's anxiety about rain would have been foremost in her mind. She was a great gardener for both beauty and nourishment and always feared long periods without rain. I'm told this is the right sort of rain needed for gardens so that is good. Not so good is all the idiots on the road who decided despite the conditions to drive in a reckless manner. But I'm finished in the car now.

After several months absence I was at last able to go to a Council of Governors' meeting for HPFT. So much change that I struggled to keep up with it all. Trying to juggle that with the demands of full time work has been beyond me recently. I'm ashamed by that. I got into this business to help service users. Or as we call ourselves now experts by experience. Sounds a bit pompous that. Am I living up to what I set out to do? Probably not. So out of touch but when I was first elected back in 2013 I was not prepared for the deluge of e mails that come every day. Staying on top of it has been impossible at times.

I have considered resigning but not got to that point yet. Perhaps I need to re-evaluate what I want to achieve. I have long since resigned to the idea that I will never save the world. My expertise is limited and I am flawed. Sometimes it feels that I have betrayed what I set out to do. Am I too hard on myself? Ros would probably say yes.

The arrogant dreamer of those early days is long gone. At times I want to get out of the business all together. That would have seemed like heaven 18 months ago. But this year I have managed better so for the time being I do what I can.

Feeling under the weather has continued today. I think people suspect I should have stayed home this week. But I have made it in all week despite. Now I can retire to my kitchen to do stir fried chicken with black bean sauce and then on to opera night. Verdi I think today.

I Heard a Voice.

Difficult Times.

It's a warm humid evening here in Hertfordshire. The light is beginning to fade and it's looking slightly gloomy. Ventures on here are rare for a Tuesday. In truth the last couple of days have been quite difficult for me.

Not sure if it was the anxiety of the dentist, a bug that is going round or general under the weather but have been anxious, nauseous and tired since I woke up yesterday. In what is supposed to be a relatively quiet time at work I have had a whole load of walk ins crying heartily and distressed wanting to be seen immediately. I'm not sure any of them were mentally ill but I seemed the only one available so I had to pick up the slack.

That is part and parcel in a way but the sudden crises that are really serious have tested me considerably both before Easter and this week. It is never good going home not knowing if the dreaded e mail about a suicide will come the next day. That is the world I inhabit and sometimes I'm left powerless in very difficult situations and just pray to anyone or anything divine, lucky, fated or other that I am right. Those nights are most uncomfortable.

The day is over now. Handel's Orlando plays and I'm reading a book collated and edited by a cousin whom I've never met. A collection of her grandfather and I suppose my great great uncle's letters from the Great War. Fascinating stuff.

Not sure I will stay up too late or read too much tonight. My eyes want to close and feel tired. I did manage to cook having given up yesterday. Hoisin glazed chicken with cashew nuts and spring onions, very good. From Yan Kit So's Classic Chinese cook book.

Back to Handel until I speak again on here. Take care out there.

I Heard a Voice.

A Weekend of Indulgence.

Greetings everyone. You find me on a Sunday afternoon content in what has been an overly indulgent weekend. My friend Marie came to visit, been ages since she came here. What followed was a gastronomic few days with a certain amount of wine thrown in. Thai prawns with chilli and basil, rare ribeye steaks then capped off with roast rack of lamb for lunch today. Hurrah for weekends.

Now my flat is empty I debated what to do, a film, TV or music. Donizetti won by a landslide so the next couple of hours are taken care of.

As ever the weekend has gone all too quickly. I am having a little bit of an anxious day, not because of work. More as I have to go to the dentist tomorrow. An errant piece of bacon rind seems to have caused me some problems so we will see what the damage is both physically and financially tomorrow.

Dad has been at the Grand Prix today. He's coming to the end of his epic adventure. He seems to have got through despite various mishaps. He returns home on Tuesday. Must get down to see him soon.

My trip to The Waggoners with Sarah on Thursday was a lot of fun. Funny how small the world is, she grew up in the town where I went to boarding school at the same time. We'd known each other ages before we saw that connection. Much to my surprise I ate fish. And very good it was too. Very nice bottle of Malbec so the taxi proved a good choice to make.

With the election coming up I have booked the following day off. I do like staying up very late at elections. My friend James who is a Labour councillor and was inducted as Mayor last week advised me that "we are going to lie down and take our kicking" when I asked how campaigning was going. So not very optimistic. It makes me uneasy that opposition is so disjointed. Democracy needs balance and we haven't had that for a while. My polling card arrived this week so I'm all set for the day. Just a short walk to the local primary school.

I will leave you now and focus on the opera, try to distract myself from thoughts of tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice

Want, Desire, Greed.

Some might argue that the Western world is afflicted with greed. Everywhere we see shops, adverts, cars, restaurants, people displaying a wealth beyond the wildest dreams of many in the world. I live in a relatively peaceful country. I get to vote. I can read what I like, watch what I like and within some boundaries say what I like. And buy what I like...assuming I have the money.

On a glorious day my travels took me back to the lake of old. Shoals of fish were all over, the surface glittering in the sunshine. Shiny, glittery. Beautiful. With my meeting over I took a wander round the shops during my lunch break. A sudden desire to spend hit me. Had I been more reckless or had more money or had bipolar I might have emerged laden, poorer and beaming.

The haul would have contained three suits, a dinner suit (that is a tuxedo to some in the world), a linen blazer, several shirts, two pairs of trousers and a whole pile of books. That I resisted the desire for all of these things is a relief. But it got me thinking that so much of my world here in Hertfordshire is about want, desire and greed.

Composing a text to a great friend who has bipolar and is not as lucky as me in ability to stay well and work consistently I rather amused both of us with the following:

1 How often do I wear a suit?
2 How often do I wear black tie?
3 I can only wear one suit at a time.
4 I have five blazers already two of which are linen.
5 My flat is littered with things I have bought and never use.
6 I have a dozen books waiting to be read but not enough time to read them.
7 Desire is not the same as need.
8 Greed is not a virtue.

Had I had bipolar for real the outcome would have differed. In my more limited mood problem, at least going up, I was able resist what I coveted. After a couple of wonderful spending months when I overdid things it was not time to be reckless. I did not need any of those things. Yet simply the desire has made me ponder closely exactly what my mood is doing to me at the moment.

Back home on a warm evening opera night is under way with Mozart and I will return to D H Lawrence after writing this post.

I Heard a Voice.

At Last the Sun!

Hello out there is you are listening. Are you having a good weekend? The sun is finally shining here in Hertfordshire after somewhat indifferent and chilly times recently. I'm home on a Sunday afternoon with a glass of Pimm's and Tosca. It makes such a difference listening to opera when one knows the story.

The weekend got off to a delayed start after having to work late on Friday. All hell seemed to break loose that day, not directly at me but it almost overwhelmed others. Leaving late I have my fingers crossed that nothing will go wrong over the weekend. It is awful dealing with days taking a risk on a decision and hoping it will pan out. I did not make those decisions but I sincerely hope they work out.

I spent much of yesterday in a rather chilly Cambridge for the Varsity Bowl. The Cambridge University Pythons emerged victorious over the Oxford University Lancers in an epic double overtime encounter. Saw some old friends, made new ones then warmed up in The Devonshire Arms afterwards. Good day out.

In the wider world politics is once again coming to the fore in my country. Local elections saw the destruction of UKIP leaving the question what on earth do they represent now? Whilst there is a lot of chatter on social media about the honourable Mr Corbyn results suggest his Labour party are going to get hammered in five weeks time. Is it wise to have an all conquering ruling party? History tells us that is unwise but I suspect it is what we are going to get.

What the week will bring me I don't know. I'm going out to dinner with my friend Sarah on Thursday. I'm looking forward to that, a trip to The Waggoners and I won't be driving so perhaps a good bottle of wine is on the cards. Do have a good week everyone, see you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Unnecessarily Anxious

Today had gone well in the main. I did what I needed to do, there were no major crises, I caught up on a few things, saw a few people then got off a little early to go to my GP surgery to collect a prescription and make an appointment. All seemed even better when I managed to book an appointment on Monday, that never happens.

All continued to look good until I got to the chemist to get said prescription only to find somehow somewhere I had mislaid it. All pockets, bags, diaries and the car searched yet to no avail. With that anxiety decided to join the party and send me into difficult territory. Maybe I left it in the surgery. Maybe it fell out of my pocket. It certain doesn't have any narcotic benefit to anyone who perchance finds it and goes to claim. One item is very dangerous in overdose but who would know that?

I tell my students to worry about what they can control not what they can't. I know there is nothing I can do until tomorrow. The surgery was shut when I phoned. I can call in the morning or drop in. At worst I can ask him for another one on Monday. But still the nightmare that is anxiety gnaws away and confirms that wholly negative way I look at myself tonight after something small went wrong.

Opera night is not opera night if those fears come back. The key will be to immerse myself in Le Nozze di Figaro and let go. It is just so hard to let go. But let go I must.

By Monday at the latest I will have a resolution of what is in the grand scheme of things a small problem.

I Heard a Voice.

Third String Debut Brilliance.

Hello out there, I'm back. There's not much sign of the sun today and I got a little wet earlier. May Day, party on from Padstow to Moscow. I'm not really partying but pass a day off with opera and a little reading. I did venture out earlier to get my hair cut and to restock the fridge.

The weekend with Jayne was fabulous. Our American friends call a back up back up the third string and my opera night was a debut for such a person. Tosca was ill, her understudy was ill so we heard from the side of the stage a brilliant debut by Elin Pritchard whilst the part was mimed on stage by someone else. Odd I guess and I suspect there were more than a few nerves but she was brilliant. Brutal story but a masterpiece.

It was fun seeing my old friend Laura too. I think it may well have been 1982 when I last saw her. We had a couple of beers and a catch up on many years in between. Very pleased to hear her sons are rowers. I doubt I will ever fit in a boat again, too fat, but I do like that it carries on in Cambridge.

Jayne and I were somewhat self indulgent but we don't get to see each other nearly enough so why not.

My return home heralded a not so good night, bad dreams and early waking but I don't feel as anxious as I might have done. Mood is okay but we will see how it gets tested when I return to work tomorrow.

Dad managed to get his flight to Barcelona okay. He is launching forth on a grand cruise followed by a stop to see the Grand Prix. Not my scene but he loves it. Really hoping he has a great time.

Enjoy the rest of the holiday weekend and hope the rain stays away. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.