A Rare Calm.

Hello on a Saturday night. You will not often find me on here then but here I am. It has been a dank, cold and overcast day here but I'm in good spirits. That's what taking a few days off does for the soul. And for once I have felt serenely calm during my time away. That has to be a good thing.

With all the lockdown stuff I had some left over holiday for last academic year so as it was Thanksgiving on Thursday I decided to take a two day break from reality. And it has really worked. Sublime roast turkey and the NFL, fine wine and lots of sleep have really righted the ship.

Of course it has gone much more quickly than I would have hoped but any break from the mental chaos is a good thing.

My kitchen has been busy. From Thanksgiving turkey to Turkish liver wraps seasoned with cumin, Aleppo pepper and oregano, pan fried mackerel fillet dusted in gram flour, sumac and cumin with pomegranate seeds and molasses dressing to beef bourguignon. I have mainly triumphed. Tomorrow my old friend roast belly pork. It is great to celebrate freedom.

As Handel opera plays I'm supping some very ordinary French red wine and doing some reading. Not had a lot of chance recently given the NFL commitments.

Away from my little world we come out of lockdown on Wednesday to a very changed freedom. In fact many will have none at all including dad. As things stand I will not be driving down for my annual Christmas break. The restrictions are too great. So I must prepare for my first Christmas at home for nine years. Of course I can triumph but I will miss dad and all my friends. Will this vaccine save the day next year? We can but hope so.

That is all beyond my control though. So I will leave you to your evening and return to my wine. Stay safe everyone.

I Heard a Voice.

Release From Prison.

A little under a week has now gone by since I was released into an autumn night. Never before have I valued freedom as much as this. Being shut in for nine days created a mental downturn different to any of my many hell holes I've been in. Not depressed just desolate. On some days I could barely drag myself out of bed. I figured though that it is better to have something rather than nothing. True my work capacity was impaired but I got through those days.

When freedom came at midnight last Thursday I walked out into the night simply because I could. There was no one on the street. A couple of police cars drove past, and a pair of civilian cars. Nothing stirred beside that. And it was wondrous.

On Saturday as the rain poured down I went out and embraced the day. I got wet and muddy but somehow to be enveloped in rain gave an amazing sense of wellbeing and freedom. Not all people in this world are free. I learned a lot of what the world must be like for many. And it wasn't pretty.

Now it is opera night and I reflect. Mozart plays, I cook and I read. My kitchen adventures have had mixed results. I overcooked the extremely expensive rib of beef I bought to celebrate my freedom. Yet it tasted wonderful. To Thailand and China I have been and today to Turkey. A dish called Kapuska, a revelation! Spiced cabbage with minced lamb and tomato topped with Aleppo pepper and parsley served with warmed pitta.

Thus far the working week has gone mainly to plan. No confrontation. No arguments, No aggression. Long may that last.

Tomorrow I go to campus and Jess will do her thing, blitzing through my flat like a whirling Dervish and order will be restored. The weekend is not far off. I have a short week after that as I'm taking a couple of days off for Thanksgiving. Roast turkey, roast potatoes, sprouts, carrots, cabbage, gravy and cranberry sauce. For all my American friends on here not sure how genuine my attempt will be but I will enjoy it.

Maybe see you all at the weekend.

I Heard a Voice.

Inglorious Isolation and Devastating Loneliness.

Is there anything so bleak as being locked in with no visitors, nowhere to walk and only one's own thoughts? There probably is, I've never been in a war zone, lost a child or been the victim of a serious crime. Yet seven days into this enforced incarceration I'm not doing great. My therapist said this afternoon it must be like solitary confinement. And that is exactly right. So lonely.

My thoughts have drifted to people in prison, to those forced for months to stay indoors for health reasons and the many of my own people who have been locked up in psychiatric hospitals. And I too have been there as you will recall. The devastating loneliness, the despair and tragedy of my loss at leaving Cambridge in 1991 is what led me to that dark place. And now it feels like that again.

I cannot fault the many who have come to me in the last week. From the zoom call with my friend Harsarup on Saturday to the endless calls. The messages of support on social media to Francois and Bronwen bringing me some Rioja. My neighbour Richard buying coffee to my other neighbour Vanessa arriving with kitchen towel and cheese. Cheese so wonderous to behold. And my kind friend Kevin sending me a lovely card and present...thanks Kevin, I will buy the finest bottle of wine I can find!

Somehow some way I have made it to just over 24 hours to go before the prison gate is flung open and I can breathe the air, feel the cold and get wrapped in the rain. Any real sensation after this will be welcome. Assuming I can get out of bed in the morning, I almost didn't today, I will try to work. People from there have also been terribly kind. It reminds me that when the bullets are flying and everyone is panicking that we would all feel much better if we are kind to each other.

Adversity can bring out the best in people. I'm not sure you have seen my best but I will get there. For now though it is Puccini, a glass of Picpoul de Pinet and a book. It all helps.

When I next speak to you I will be free. And I will value that freedom far more than I ever have before.

I Heard a Voice. 

Locked In.

Four years ago I penned a post on here to mark the victory of Mr Trump in the US election. Not because I particularly like him. Nor do I like to make political comment on here. No more to plead for unity in that great country. He had a lot of healing to do in such a divided place.

Now on a gloomy November Sunday afternoon we have another president elect. The years of chaos, disruption, arrogance and world shaking egotistical politics will have finally come to an end. USA, you have a lot of healing to do but please remember democracy is not the right of every man and woman in this fractious world. We are privileged enough to have that right. And Mr Trump says he has been cheated. Maybe he knows something I don't but that is the result and much of the world has breathed a huge sigh of relief. Mr Biden has a huge task but good luck to him and to the American people.

Back here in my small part of the world not all is going to plan. True I had a week without incident or conflict. However as I was coming home from the pub on Wednesday just as the country was shutting down again my covid app bleeped and ordered me to stay indoors until next Friday.

Here on day four of my house arrest I'm really feeling it. My outlook is as bleak and grey as the sky outside. The instructions on the app tell me I'm only allowed to exercise in my garden. Sadly I have no garden and the balcony is small. So nowhere to go.

As ever though my friends have been extraordinary. People calling, messaging, texting and zooming. And they have shopped for me. There should be a delivery of Rioja this afternoon.

The last time I was locked up like this was in an old asylum in the summer of 1991 after my breakdown. Shit though my world looks today it is nowhere near as terrifying at that desolate summer all those years ago.

I have my opera, I have my books, I have my kitchen. And I have wine. Day by day I will crawl towards salvation on Friday. It seems a long way off today. But I will get there intact.

Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.