Roast Beef of Old England.

Greetings on a now sunny Sunday morning. Tosca has just finished, I'm alone in the silence of my flat and drinking iced water. Sounds idyllic I guess but not all has been well since I last wrote to you all.

The reverberation of the hammer blow of just over two weeks ago continues. Hard to describe the mental impact, bewilderment, loss, sadness. What is lacking is anger. 

My friends are all very angry about what has happened. I can make no sense of it but others are voicing what needs to be voiced but I cannot voice myself. 

I try to be kind and caring to all. Sadly that is not always reciprocal when it comes to what happened. Another cherished and loved person walks out on my life with no explanation. 

Ruminating is never good but at present I can't stop it. At least physically I am better. 

Each day is struggle that must be filled. Today it is with the legendary English culinary masterpiece and signature roast beef. I have a table booked at The White Hart at 1 pm. The beef there is stunning. 

Sadly it will pass all too quickly and I suspect my mind will turn and fold in on itself. Mental illness, twists of fate and bad decision making still pervade my life. So I will take it one day at a time. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Farewell the Past

You must accept my recent silence. Not sure who is reading anyway. Maybe no one.

The truth is that the last month has been really tough physically and mentally. Not a good combination. 

When I went to London a month ago I knew it could trigger a bumpy ride. And it did.

What I didn't expect was that at a time of vulnerability someone I care so much about walked out of my life.

That I've made catastrophic decisions on friendships and relationships is a given, well documented on here, in my books, in my guilt and in my shame. But I struggle to understand why someone would walk away without any explanation. That sadly is what just happened to me.

A lot of my friends are very angry with her. All agree I didn't deserve that and that it is not something I've done but more about her. But it still hurts. Really bad.

Alongside this hammer blow I have been really sick with what the doctors think is a virus. They signed me off last Thursday. Slowly getting better I think. No longer have fever or headache. The cough is less dry and painful. 

Life has not been kind to me this last month. But I will prevail. 

I Heard a Voice. 

A Hacking Cough.

On a beautiful sunny Sunday morning in my small part of Hertfordshire I'm listening to The Marriage of Figaro and reading. In truth the last two weeks have been plagued by a mystery malady.

Three doctors on Tuesday could advise only that it is a virus. An unusual one at that. Horrendous sore throat and hacking cough accompanied by fever and headache. I worked as long as I could before finally taking to my bed on Friday. 

It shows no sign of abating so going back to the doctors on Tuesday. 

Tomorrow is a public holiday here. Never find them easy but will probably take myself off for a pub lunch somewhere. 

On matters pertaining to today I decided I'd cook later rather than earlier. Roast Duck with plum sauce is on the menu. Got some Medoc to accompany it. No one is coming round. 

My flat has been a lonely place the last few weeks. No visitors. Cyberspace too has been quiet along with the phone. My old friend Anna did reach out to me a couple of days ago. I think people are maybe a little worried about me but just don't know what if anything to say.

I will recover though. I always bounce back even it's a slow and painful process.

I Heard a Voice.