A Country Church.

Greetings on a Sunday afternoon. You may be surprised to learn that thus far no opera has been heard in my flat. As I write West Ham are on for their final game of the season. A rolled breast of lamb seasoned with salt, pepper, garlic, thyme and rosemary is slow roasting away and filling my place with wonderful aromas. Sunday, glorious Sunday.

By way of a change this afternoon I drove out to Welwyn village. Nice pint of splendidly named Glorious English ale in The White Hart then a wander round St Mary's church. In my youth I poured scorn on my friends who went "church spotting" as I called it. Now I appreciate churches as just as important to our culture and history as my beloved pubs that I write so often about. As I always do I sought out to see the commemoration of those who died in the two world wars. There seemed an inordinately high number of young men from Welwyn and Woolmer Green who lost their lives between 1914 and 1918. Come 1st July we will remember the century anniversary of the first day of the Battle of the Somme. Tragic that after these years we still fight in foolish ways.

And so to another week. Not long until a break. I feel in need although I remain in a good place mentally. See you all in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

PS The stuffed poussin was every bit as good as Faith had suggested!

Wrap Up Warm.

God it was cold today. It's supposed to be May. But I was seriously under-dressed against that chilly wind. My thoughts go out to our students who are having the Student Union Ball tonight. I went in my first year there with my friend Ali. We had fun but that too was awfully cold in the early hours. Oh how things change for some. Ali is now married with 3 boys and spent the last 3 years in Nigeria. And me? Same old same old.

Well another week is over. 3 weeks now lie between us and Naples. Not too anxious yet but I'm sure it will arrive. It was actually a remarkably good day in that 9 years in we may have finally closed the link between what I do and our colleagues in the Trust. I did have some conversations at the highest levels which may or may not have born fruit. But we got more than we ever dreamed of.

Back at home it would have been so easy to just go and get ribs but I had a sudden brainwave, roast potatoes. 45 minutes in goose fat at 230 degrees brought the most miraculous result. With cold pork, fresh vegetables and gravy it made a simple but triumphant supper.

All being well I will hop on the bus mid morning and head for St Albans. I have it on good authority...my friend Faith...that the couscous stuffed poussin at Cafe Marrakech is fantastic. I will report back.

Have a fantastic weekend but wrap up warm, the cold will continue in the morning. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

Sunday on Monday.

A downside to going away for the weekend is I never have anything to cook when I get back. Most times I go away a pub provides my obligatory roast dinner. But not yesterday. Having visited the local golf club at the invitation of the chairman it transpired that their alternate week roast dinners did not fall yesterday.

I had no plans particularly to rectify the situation today but saw a love piece of free range pork leg in Waitrose and simply couldn't resist. In my hurry to get back and put it in the oven I forgot all manner of things I wanted but it is in roasting away seasoned in Cornish sea salt, Vietnamese pepper and local thyme. So Sunday comes to Monday.

Late to eat but I have Handel playing beautifully, I have opened a 2007 bottle of Tempranillo and am being cultured. An evening shower has cut through the humidity of another unusually warm and sticky day. All very pleasant now.

The day was okay. Had to make a judgement call that time will tell. That's what happens when I'm powerless and no one else is around. If I have got it wrong it could be very wrong. But there is little I can when students are out of area and I have no idea where they are or who I can call to help. Time will judge me wise or a fool.

Must get on now, pork nearly ready to rest. I rarely cook leg so it might not be my best. But I didn't have time to slow roast shoulder as I'm wont to do; would have been eating around 10 pm. Too hungry for that.

I Heard a Voice.

Maybe the Last Time?

As I stepped out into the brilliant sunshine from my dad's doorway bag over my shoulder and shades on it occurred to me that it may well have been the last time I passed over that portal. Can it really be over after 37 years? We don't have completion date yet but given it is likely just after our holiday I doubt I will see it again.

Off and on that house has been a part of my life. During the darkness of my illness I lived there. In the light of my wellness I visited there. And now in portly middle age I think I have said goodbye. A glorious day to go out on as a spring hot snap has engulfed the UK in wonderful warmth and light.

My journey home was uneventful. I made Pimm's when I got home and will be doing that nice goat's cheese and melon salad with a mint dressing. And an opera, Tosca I think today. I have plenty of reading to do. And I must select a book for our trip.

Friday's aberration on health front was just that, curry induced. Not often curry does that to me but it was a bad day.

In the morning I will return to the strange world of exams. The place goes through a change of gear during that period. Give it 3 weeks and it is all but over. See you in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

Hazy Days.

It looked like another glorious sunny day would be upon us this morning. Sadly the haze overtook us and the promise evaporated. Greetings from the seaside anyway. I'm down in Kent with dad and Miriam. The end of the week didn't go quite to plan after a visit to the Neem Tree with an old school friend on Thursday emerged with feeling decidedly unwell Friday morning. So yet another day away from my office. Always feel guilty not being there though.

Whatever it was I feel fine now. We're roasting a guinea fowl with some potatoes and I will do Vichy carrots. Miriam has never had them. As we are all together we visited dad's new flat. Bigger than I thought and quite nice. Not sure about the storage heaters though, I learned to my cost that first winter in Chapel Street how awful such things are.

We don't have a completion date yet. It will be after our holiday. Have done some juggling then and managed to take 2 weeks off. That will give me a partial week of rest before dad comes up and we fly to Naples.

Dodgy stomach aside I continue to feel well. Better in fact that many months. That said the fear of a new academic year before we seem to blink is already emerging in my mind's eye. Can it be as challenging as this year has been? I hope not.

I will leave you now. Hope you have had time to breathe in the break between my posts, had a feeling I was posting too often. Until next time enjoy the weekend and have a good week.

I Heard a Voice.

A Month To Go.

This time in a month I will be in Italy. Yes our annual trip taken amid the chaos of dad moving house and me trying as ever to juggle my life. It has come about much quicker than I anticipated. A break will be nice although it probably feels like the blind leading the blind. With luck we will meet some nice people as we did last year.

Back in reality I'm doing okay. My love of Mozart is reinvigorated by my joyous weekend event. Tonight is an opera night. A little reading and a brief broadcast to you all. The week is moving on apace after the holiday. Soon be Friday then I'm off back down to Kent to see dad. The optician also awaits.

It occurred to me over the weekend that as I haven't done my mood diary recently I will have missed how much better I have been doing. Few days in the minus column and quite a few around about plus 2. Still no sign of mania and I hope I'm not pissing too many people off. Well no more so than usual.

May that continue when the long summer comes. I find it hard to motivate myself then. And oh so soon the autumn will come again and chaos will ensue. Do I feel better equipped to manage that than last year? I'll let you know when summer comes and my rest becomes a reality.

I Heard a Voice.

Awe and Wonderment.

We met on a cold winter night before a roaring fire in a 14th century pub just before Christmas 1994. A smouldering beauty who bristled with warning signs, do not come near. Yet we became friends. And we still are today.

I've had marvellous weekend with Jayne near Cambridge rekindling old times, indulging in fine food and good beer and for the first time opera. Last night I sat in sheer wonderment listening to the unbelievable Don Giovanni performed by the English Touring Opera. What skill, what tension, what technique, what power. I was amazed. And at the end I shuddered as the ghost rose from the dead and Don Giovanni was dragged off to hell. The joy of singing in English made it clearer to me. And it is so much less dark than I feared, very funny in places.

For all the joy it did make me feel a musical failure. I was good but not that good. I know my limitations and am too far removed from a modest singing career ever to go back. Did I have too much too young? Perhaps but I'm not ready to go back yet anyway.

The foodie weekend was a little mixed, The Phoenix let us down with dry crispy duck, Cau gave us poor advice on steaks and mine was pretty tough second time around after the first effort was so far removed from rare it was inedible. Then we rather overcooked the rib of beef today; that will teach us to do for a pint in The Barley Mow while it was in the oven.

I'm so glad I went though. I miss Jayne and all these years later I'm still jealous that she lives in Cambridge and I don't.

A light supper of tomato and feta salad with coriander, olive oil and pepper awaits. Then I think a film. Happy May Day all of you.

I Heard a Voice.