Shorts and Panama.

There are not too many days of year when I emerge in shorts, blinking in the sunlight and settle in a pub garden to enjoy the vestiges of good fortune. The last two days have been such occasions. What a wonderful Bank Holiday weekend. Unencumbered with low mood despite sleeping poorly recently I was able to enjoy rather than feel guilty. Bask rather than wallow. And celebrate not commiserate.

On these days I do not go out in the sun for long but a Panama hat, a class of Pimm's and a good book is a good thing.

Having had my quota of sun I have come home into the cool of my flat, put The Magic Flute on and come to speak to my friends on here. Loads of you seem to be reading at the moment. Dad asked last time I was in Kent if readers go up in dark times. I'm not sure but it feels quite healthy at the moment.

Over the next two days I have to make a decision. An invitation has come to sing back in Cambridge next weekend. A chance to catch up with old friends, dust off the vocal range and have a light supper is on the face of it is enticing. However I'm acutely aware that few if any of my musical compatriots from those days know about my illness and I would have to explain a lot.

Past experience tells me that if I go to such an event my anxiety will be raised to difficult levels. Trying hard as I am to keep such feelings under control my instinct is to decline the offer. If I do though will I regret it?

Another week away from work beckons but I'm optimistic I will be back soon. How I feel about that is mixed. I'm desperate to get structure back in my life and try to do something useful. On the other hand it is pretty daunting after all this time. People have been very patient with me. O that I could be more patient with myself.

In a rare departure from normal Sunday routine I'm not cooking today. Rather I'm going to dinner with my friend Ann. Richard my neighbour introduced us some time ago. She and her friend Joyce dine every Monday at Hakalok. Great company and full of interesting stories she cooks wonderfully well. So armed with a bottle of Malbec I will set forth for an evening of fine food, good company and wondrous stories.

See you all in the week.

I Heard a Voice.