In Close Proximity.

A cold wind is blowing across the quiet land of Hertfordshire. In sharp contrast to the glorious day yesterday. I'm so cold I have the heating on.

The week was tough. Finally had a conversation about my future. The change I wanted and needed will not now happen. I have little choice but to return to my old job and face big questions. Why is work so hard? To add to that though the woman who has steared our service on a more stable path is leaving. Where this leads us I have no idea. What I do know is that I'm the only one who knows.

That is aside this weekend though. It's the weekend of the Food Festival. I went down yesterday with a friend but felt the busy throng too overwhelming. What I didn't learn until later was that the devil was there too.

I'm hugely relieved I didn't bump into her. Given how painful the journey has been since January to move forward thank goodness it was close proximity not face to face.

Back to this cold Sunday I'm listening to The Marriage of Figaro, I've read another chapter in my book and have rolled breast of turkey roasting in the oven. Still not eating much but continue on my culinary adventures.

Miriam is down visiting dad. No doubt they've booked somewhere nice for a pub lunch. I'm booked at The White Horse in Welwyn for lunch next Sunday with Marie; she's travelling up on Friday.

Devil go home and reap what you sow. I do not want you in my life.

I Heard a Voice.