The Last Train for the Coast.

A light drizzle was beginning to fall as I walked back to my car this afternoon following a brief foray into town. Finally managed to collect my contact lenses, restrained my spending and had a lunch with Yan.

Back in the warm of my flat I'm reflecting on what has been a brutal term. Yes I've finally come to rest. Chaos until the end the scourge of misinformation on the internet threatens to undermine all our work. As predicted the new way of doing things has not stopped the did not attend notes on our recording system. We now have a waiting list which we will struggle to get through. Is change good? Not from where I'm standing. It can all wait though until 2020. It's has only just dawned on me that a new decade is looming. Feeling utterly distinguished at 50 life seems as complex as ever. Yet I have my friends, my family, my flat, my kitchen and my opera. Not forgetting the books. In fact I have so much that is good the wasteland of mental illness is not knocking on the door today.

Last night I went out to dinner with Sarah. Misya a Turkish Cypriot restaurant opened earlier this year but thus far I haven't made it there. I did last night and it was stunning. Moist chicken, succulent lamb, not had food that good since the glory days of Gardinia in Cambridge back in the 1970s. Will definitely go back. Sarah gave me an un-feasibly large present. No idea what it will be but will have to wait until my return to find out.

Tomorrow I head for the coast. Not as Don McLean famously sang on the last train for the coast but by road. I'm not a great driver but each Christmas I drive to Kent to spend time with dad. This year we have glazed ham, roast goose and venison casserole on the menu. Yes I will see friends. Yes I will drink too much. Yes I will spend too much. But I will be at rest. Thank God for that.

Not sure if I will get to post as dad is having IT problems but if I don't may I wish good all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

I Heard a Voice.