Tudor Spice.

If I believe the history books-and I have no particular reason not to-Tudor England was probably a dirty, noisy, smelly, and paranoid place. Not a place for the poor with all the disease and an uncertain place for the rich. A time of spies and intrigue, beheadings and religious divisions. I'm not sure I would have liked to live in those times. Yet there is something magical about the Tudors, their food. We call them English spices now although of course most came from Southeast Asia. Cinnamon, mace, nutmeg, and cloves. All wonderful. They also had a passion for mixing fruit with meat. Not my favourite things although my goose with roasted pears last Christmas was a triumph.

Well it is not Christmas now. Nor am I using fruit. Yet there is divine smell of that English spice cloves. That's right my ham in the oven is studded with cloves and perfuming my small flat as I face another quiet Sunday.

I don't really feel anything today. Not good, not bad just nothing. It is not the terrible emptiness I experienced back in the winter when I had my relapse. I'm just detached. I have no desire to go to work tomorrow after the events of last week. Fortunately I'm only in 2 days next week. But the week after the whirlwind will take over my life until April. Can I survive that onslaught as I have before? Probably but I'm not sure I want to. My motivation and belief is low and I want a new start. Who knows if or when that will come.

Think I might listen to some Offenbach after lunch. Here's to lunch lifting my mood. If not I must rely on watching my beloved St Louis Rams play on TV tonight-not seen that for nearly 2 years.

I Heard a Voice.

A Topsy Turvy Day.

The eminent psychiatrist Bernie Rosen once told me that depressed people never get angry. Bullshit. It was alleged at the time that he was also psychiatrist to Princess Diana. Well he didn't help me very much nor on the surface her either. I won't say what I really think of him but it is not very good. When I left his clinic he wrote a report on me that a later consultant described as "the most contradictory and offensive report I have ever seen."

So why am I saying this now? Well you will have seen from my last post I have been pretty angry. I have also felt very low, bewildered, and confused. All of those were at the same time. But given what has happened to me it is no surprise.

Yet today I feel neither depressed nor angry. I'm still a bit confused and at a loss as to what to do next but am okay. It is a topsy turvy day. There is blazing sunshine outside yet it is September. Actually I rather like days like this. I have confused my contact lenses so I can't see properly-must had more than I thought last night. I slept for 11 hours yet am still tired. I must have been tired and the lack of sleep in the last 2 weeks has caught up with me. And having not gone to a single BBQ all summer I am just off to help Tony at the pub with a BBQ.

So I appear away from where I was 2 days ago. Yes I still need to move on but I'm dealing with it better. I had hoped to roast shoulder of pork tomorrow but I couldn't get any. So it is roast ham-I'm very partial to ham. Have 3 days off next week and I will see Beka on Thursday then it is off to meet David one of my old tutors from Cambridge on Saturday. Let's hope this oasis of calm stays.

I Heard a Voice.

Mind Blowing.

Today started very well and then well and truly fucked up. I have been left trying to get my head round the idea that I get head-hunted and then I don't even make the short-list for the job!??! That is what happened to me today. It's tempting to tell the world to fuck off and just go home. But where is and what is home? Now therein lies an interesting question.

I posted a few weeks ago that God moved in mysterious ways. By God he fucking does! I have spent the last 22 years in the world of the mad but this might be the maddest thing ever. People may say wonderful things about my work and my books but sadly that doesn't pay the considerable bills living here.

Now there is an angry post. Hopefully next time I on here I won't be so furious!

I Heard a Voice.

Summer's End.

Well, despite the splendid weather outside summer has once again come to an end. My holiday will be over tomorrow and I will wait with baited breath for news on the jobs I have applied for. Today is the closing date for the one that might keep me in Hertfordshire-I should know something towards the end of this week.

It has been a strange holiday marred by a lack of sleep which has left me very tired. It was good to get to Kent and all the nice country pubs I have visited since my return. But as ever holidays are all too short. Not quite sure what I feel about going back tomorrow-it feels like time to call it a day on the last 5 years.

Today has been my usual quiet Sunday. I was very extravagant with roast duck and rioja for lunch. I have had a festival of Mozart encompassing the D Minor Mass, the Coronation Mass, and the Requiem. Seems a lot but I never tire of hearing Mozart. Beginning to think about tea now. Have some Rick Stein to watch at 4 pm and then an evening of ethnic football as week 1 of the new NFL season continues. I will get to see 4 games this week.

Here's to hoping my mood holds whatever the outcome of the next few weeks. More soon.

I Heard a Voice.

In the Shadows of History.

Yesterday I took a trip down memory lane. I visited Borough Market for the first time in over a year. It was very hot and humid and sadly many of the stall were not open-reminder next time not to go on a Tuesday. Actually I went on that day as Beka had suggested we meet and go to an art exhibition afterwards. As I anticipated not getting back until the evening I didn't buy anything other than lunch and a cold drink-not sure fresh produce would have survived in the heat and humidity of an Indian Summer on London.

Having done the market I retired to a tried and tested pub. Had a couple of wonderful pints of Tribute in the St Christopher's Inn. It is a place I knew well in the its former guise as the Grapes. The Grapes lies in the shadow of the hospital I spent 4 months in in 1994. As I sat there I recalled all the names of those who had been there with me-I wondered who got better, who didn't, and sadly, the inevitable deaths. That is the way in the dark world of madness. That place will forever stick in my memory.

I had a very bad night of nightmares and got up far too early. The sleeping is not going well on this holiday. The plan today was to go to St Alban's but recalling the heat of yesterday the thought of spending 2 hours on a hot bus did not appeal so I changed plans. Did some shopping and had a fry up instead. So tonight it is a lamb, potato, broad bean and pea tagine with mint from a book dad gave me for my birthday.

And now I think an afternoon of Mozart and reading is on the cards.

I Heard a Voice.

Five Years.

The first song on David Bowie's apocalyptic album Ziggy Stardust is called Five Years. It appears to predict the end of the world. It was the second of a trio of astonishing albums in 1972 and 1973 preceded by Hunky Dory and followed by Aladdin Sane. No one makes 3 classic albums of 18 months now. But then again no one these days has such talent. So other than my love of David Bowie's music why am I mentioning that today? Well it is 5 years to the day since I completely uprooted my life in Kent and moved to Hertfordshire.

Today I repeated that journey in rather quicker time. I have been with my dad since Wednesday. Had some fun, lot's of birthday presents, good food and  good friends despite the rather strange propositions I had whilst there. We went for Sunday lunch of exquisitely rare beef at the Castle Hotel http://www.castlehotel-saltwood.co.uk/ , then a race up the motorway. And continuing the theme of deja vu I went to the Fu Hao for dinner. They were my first friends I met in WGC.

I have another week off before the mayhem and hopefully change of September. Forgive my lack of contact recently-dad has had real trouble with his computer. But I'm back now and I'm hoping over the coming weeks my readers will return-the numbers took a dip last month. I still haven't worked out why the stats vary so much for no reason.

I Heard a Voice.

Things to Do on a Bank Holiday Monday.

Life is strange. So many of us live for the weekend. We all look forward to the Bank Holiday weekends as there is no work on Monday. Much as I love them I do find them somewhat boring.

So I awoke late this morning with somewhat low mood, tired, and having lived through a particularly bad night, but above all else wondering what to do. Well there is a great mark of UK culture that is rarely replicated anywhere-the country pub.

Thus we set off this afternoon in my friend's car for a drive in the country. We arrived as a small country pub called the "Horns" http://www.thehornsdatchworth.co.uk/ . I did go once before. But what revelation. Inferno beer from the Oakham brewery, a fine atmosphere, and the smell of marvellous food. We did not eat but plan to try it some time.

Felt slightly pissed even though I only had 2 pints-real ale gets me far more than lager. It was then a quiet afternoon of Earl Grey tea and toast. This evening a griddled pork chop marinaded in shallot's, galangal, garlic, coriander, soy, and fish sauce. It featured in the Sunday Times yesterday-truly stunning.

And what is store for the rest of my holiday? Heading for Kent on Wednesday, back on Sunday. Who knows what I will do then. I just hope my mood is somewhat less volatile than it has been today. More soon.

I Heard a Voice.