The Land of the Living.

After 3 days not being at my best I appear to be back in the land of the living. I awoke without a headache for the first time since Tuesday. No paracetamol, still on the fluids but feeling more rested. And what a beautiful day to come back to. Unseasonably warm, almost sweltering.

Shopping done, quick drink  with my colleague James  before a walk ensued. Have to do something to shift these unwanted pounds not smoking. On TV a Tory MP has just defected to UKIP. We are in for an interesting election come next May.

As for later, I have to do some boring cleaning. I will then pan fry a couple of trout fillets-a new venture for me-followed by an evening of opera on the radio, Verdi's Othello is on. Happier days than of late.

I Heard a Voice.

Pills, Fluids and Rest.

Plenty of fluids. Isn't that always what Doctors say to those with viruses? For the past 3 days I've been popping pills, drinking copious amounts of water and resting. Whatever has afflicted me-and several of my friends-has certainly worn me out. I did manage to venture out for an hour or so, just enough time to brave the Turkish barber and to do a little shopping. A brief foray to support my friend's charity coffee party then I had to retire to bed. With luck it will shift over the weekend and I can be set for Monday. Yes Monday, perhaps the most chaotic day of my academic year-students arrive tomorrow.

Staying warm at home I'm listening to Mozart's C Minor Mass.Think I may read for a while. Having put it to one side for a while I'm back on Seven Pillars of Wisdom. Having been hugely disappointed by my venture into Henry James-how to write a book where nothing happens-in all honesty I wish I had stuck to the T E Lawrence when I was away. 3 new books arrived recently, 2 by a friend from the PGCE days and the follow up to Gabriel's Angel, Stranger Than Kindness. Might start on that tomorrow.

If my luck holds, next time I'm on here I will be feeling more human. Now there is a toast!

I Heard a Voice

Not at My Best.

In a rare midweek afternoon post you find me sat at home listening to the Simon Bolivar Quartet playing sublime Brahms, trying to stay warm and drinking copious amounts of fluids. I awoke feeling decidedly under the weather with a headache, sore throat and the shivers. God I hope this doesn't develop into anything nasty. So I'm dosing myself up with cold and flu remedy, trying to stay awake and listening to the radio.

All this is in sharp contrast to recent weeks of good health-and by that I mean mental-and preparations for the onslaught to come. I really don't have time for this so I hope it disappears as swiftly as it came.

I did force myself to eat a light salad lunch and will do something gentle tonight. Need to keep eating. No desire to do anything else at the moment.

It will go though sooner or later then the march goes on. Next stop Christmas!

I Heard a Voice.

Uninvited Visitors.

In recent years the streets of England have been filled with aggressive charity collectors trying to harass people and shame them into giving what little they have. All think their cause is more worthy than that of others. But we only have a finite amount to give. I have causes I support and even if they approach me in this way I'm irritated. Most charities pay young people to undertake this task. Most are politely dismissed.

That is much harder though if they ring one's buzzer, say they can't hear you then accost in the corridors of one's own home. That is going too far. Whilst it is a charity I have some sympathy for I certainly won't be giving to them after such an unwanted intrusion.

Still irritated I find myself rather restless. Haydn plays which is good, I ate a fine Beef Rendang I made yesterday-not enough chilli-and I consider what to do next. A book? Some writing? Not really sure. Oh that I could deal with the unexpected as well at home as I do at work. And all after a nice day.

The countdown to mayhem continues. Monday will be D Day. After the last 2 years I approach it with a little trepidation. But I usually cope even in the most testing of times. For now though I continue to wrestle with our new data recording system-finally we go into the 21st century. Even techno-phobe like me looks forward to that!

I Heard a Voice.

A Cold Stove.

You may find this hard to believe but I haven't cooked since last Sunday. My stove which is usually so active has not been switched on at all. I just haven't felt like cooking so be making do and getting by. All that will change later when I do a Greek lamb casserole with lettuce and dill. Inspired by Beka and Mike's honeymoon I dug out a little Greek book I bought a few months ago and decided it was about time I tried it out. Today will be followed up by a halloumi and grape salad tomorrow-looks rather good. The grand affair will be roast pork, back to old favourites for Sunday lunch.

Another week has passed and things started to get interesting yesterday. Saw an old face and had some serious advising to do but we got there in the end.

Our Scottish friends decided to reject division from England, Wales and Northern Ireland but the political pundits are already talking of change all round. Devolution to the English? That would be interesting. Time will tell if we become more federal in our outlook here.

For now it is Bruckner on the radio and perhaps a book. Cooking starts at about 5.30 pm-can't stay away any longer!

To Change or Not to Change?

A historic day. History in the making. Changing the course of history. Such terms have been bandied around a lot recently in the British press. Putting my historians hat on, and yes that is ultimately my background, I cannot help but chuckle in that everything that ever happens changes history. Indeed everything has a history a fact that dawned on me when under pressure during my PGCE days. The question though is will historic days be remembered? Most events are not recalled. Only the big ones are recorded for posterity.

Today is polling day north of the border. Scotland votes on whether it becomes independent. Not all Scots get a vote, those living in England are excluded. Tomorrow we will wake up to something new or a modified same. Living in a democracy the Scots are very lucky to have that option. Not all around the world have the right to self determination via the ballot box. I do not know what the outcome will be. Neither really do my Scottish friends who do not get to vote. The Nationalists say the better together campaign is running scared. I might agree with them bearing in mind they have wheeled out the man I called the "arrogant one" in Charon's Ferry, the former Prime Minister Gordon Brown. But he was always popular in Scotland.

What strikes me from what I have followed and struggled to understand is that there are an awful lot ifs and buts should Scotland vote for independent. Battles won on rhetoric, nationalism and emotion seem to be devoid of much solid planning on how Scotland will run itself. Yet that is for them to decide.

Among the right wingers who drink in the Hedgehog at least one is hoping they go on the grounds that would guarantee a Tory victory in English elections for the foreseeable future.

We will learn tomorrow what will happen. For now I still work through the quiet inertia of the remaining days before the students return. It will not last.

I Heard a Voice.

Relentlessly Positive.

This morning I attended my 6th Vice-Chancellor's address to the University. I missed last year's as I was on holiday. My recollection of my very first was utter confusion. All was confusion in those days. Since then there has been a mix of trumpeting our success and doom and gloom. So it was with some surprise that I listened to an overwhelmingly positive address.

Living through 13 years of New Labour taught me a new word, spin. Of course most statements to the public are spun to an extent. It is really exciting the outlook sounds so good but given what I have heard from a number of sources my ride for the next 9 months could be rocky. But I'd be bored without the excitement.

Back at home I took tea, watched Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall drumming up I vegetarian feast that even I would relish it, and contemplating cooking or going out. Laksa won so I'm off out shortly.

As I stand on the cusp of another manic year I feel well placed. Mood is good but not too good. I'm not too anxious and there will be change. Whether it is change that I will like time will tell. But life would get very stale if it carried on in the same way year in year out.

I Heard a Voice.