Restless and Anxious.

There is a definite feeling of the day after today. Yes yesterday was my birthday. I went out with friends to eat and had a few in the pub. Maybe a few too many. Didn't feeling hungover but been restless, listless and anxious all day. I don't know what to do with myself. As each hour passes we move closer to Spain.

We are being picked up at 4.30 am so I will have very little sleep. Those who have read this for a while will know the link between sleep and my illness. But my anxiety is not confined to that. After 2 courses of antibiotics my leg still hasn't recover. I live in fear it will flare up again in Spain.

All in all not my best day but in 24 hours I will be in the sunshine of Spain and with luck the anxiety will have diffused.

See you all when I get back next weekend.

I Heard a Voice.

An Odd Urge.

The weirdest urge came over me today. Well maybe not odd to many but odd to me. I had an urge for pizza. I have no idea why pizza is so loved around the world. True the pizza I had when I sang in Florence in 1987 was stunning. But I'm never found the like again anywhere else. Yet today I fancied it.

So I took myself off to Prezzo for a rare venture into Italian food. And very good it was too. Accompanied by a pint of Peroni followed by a splendid cappuccino I passed a couple of hours of my holiday. On my return I listened to Puccini and finally finished reading "Three Men in a Boat". I enjoyed it despite taking months to complete-I really must do more reading.

Tonight I returned to more normal territory with a home made Keema Mutter. Tragically disappointing, I can't remember a more bland curry in a long time. Note to self, more jaggery and more salt next time. Later I'm off to the pub quiz, that's usually fun too.

And what of tomorrow? Things domestic I fear, must get it done before dad gets here on Saturday. Talking of dad, I must ring him. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

A Moroccan Adventure.

The sun is shining, it's Bank Holiday Monday and I have no work for 3 weeks. That must be a reason to celebrate. My mood is better but not up to +2 as it had been recently. But I can cope with that.

Faced with what to do I thought a trip to the country was in order. So I set off with my friend Richard to the nearby village of Welwyn and consumed a pint of excellent Bombardier ale at the White Hart. As I was driving I left it at that and returned in time for afternoon tea. All very civilised.

What was left was trying to decide what to eat. So a chicken leg is currently braising in a tagine with ginger, coriander, cumin, parley, garlic and olive oil with onions and tomatoes. The book suggested olives but I don't like then so am going for another flavour in dates. It is a bit of an adventure but the Moroccan taste for sweet and savoury is growing on me.

Miriam and Beka have both been to Marrakesh in the last couple of years. One day I must go. Just watched Keith Floyd there in the market; it all looks so wonderful.

After dinner maybe it is time to turn once again to Mozart, not listened for a while. Happy holiday everyone in the UK. I will be back tomorrow.

I Hard a Voice.

The Historic Run Chase.

So it all ends. England's chase for a historic 4-0 win in the Ashes fell just 21 runs short as darkness came. A sad end perhaps but another great summer of cricket. That heralds the end of another summer. There are but 5 days until my birthday and 7 until September. The Ashes battles starts again at Brisbane in November and I move on in my life.

Am I still wishing my life away? Isn't that what we all do as we all crave for pay day when money runs out? Time runs fast and slow. It gets quicker as we get older. But there is probably a long way to go.

This time next week I will be in Spain. There is some anxiety as dad is not well so hoping for a speedy recovery. Both of us have been looking forward to this for a long time.

Mood wise I have been less flat today but not near the recent heights. More nightmares and missed sleep. Why am I afflicted by them so often? I don't know. Maybe my unquiet mind is not as quiet as I like to tell myself. Whatever else I still have my illness, my pills and my age old flaws. Yet in the main I get by.

Bring on the autumn. The NFL season starts a week on Thursday. I'll have to record that as I'm away. After that my busy year. I still have anxiety but I am not where I was year ago. Mid September was the lowest ebb I had known for a long time. Here's to a better autumn!

I Heard a Voice.

Wet and Warm.

As I look out the window the rain is hammering down. It has been like that most of the day. Not much chance of any play in the 5th Test at the Oval today. That said it is warm outside. A warm wet late summer's day. It reminds me very much of that day 6 years ago this week that I first visited the town I now call home looking for somewhere to live. That summer was a washout and I vividly recall my anxiety as I stood in the pouring rain waiting for the agent. That flat never work out long term and I'm now in my 5th year living in this flat.

My mood today very much matches the rain; I feel very flat. I'm not sure why but given the evidence of cigarette butts in my ashtray it was a bad night. I had respite from the nightmares on Thursday but not last night. Bad dreams usually means a bad start.

I wandered into town to shop then out into the country to visit the Waggoners pub for a pint of IPA. Given that there is little prospect of watching any cricket my mind turned to music. But what? Puccini, Handel, Britten, and Pink Floyd all came to mind. That combination reflects the eclectic nature of my mind today. I settled for Handel in the end and the Messiah is playing forth very clearly. Now I think I will read, got very behind on the Jerome K Jerome as I seem to have done with all recent books. It is a slow day. Let's hope tomorrow picks up.

I Heard a Voice.

War and Peace.

Early on Monday morning peace and tranquility reigned down at the lake. There were no birds, no dragonflies, no wasps, no flies, and no sign of the heron. There was no sign of fish either, large or small. Just quiet. Nothing stirred and there was no ripple on the water. For a few minutes I marvelled at the quiet of nature. Would it be an omen for the week?

Sadly not. Every night this week the nightmares have returned and my sleep has been uneasy and broken. It is like being in a state of extreme agitation and anxiety. Strange thing is I have no idea why. Is it the coming of my holiday? Last year was marred by such interruptions. Or is it my elevated mood? If anything will bring me down and potentially send me into free-fall it is bad sleep. God I hope not.

Tomorrow I will leave, close my door, and try to forget the impending storm. The storm will come; of that I'm sure. If my mood holds I will be fine. If not I could be in trouble. Is it too much to do the MSc, work, and be governor? We will find out.

For now though I relax at home and relish the end of yet another long journey. With luck when I come home from Spain the first copy "Charon's Ferry" will be lying on my doormat. Now that will fuel the mood. Here is hoping.

I Heard a Voice.

Cultural Terror.

When I was the train to London yesterday I thought I was in for a spectacular afternoon of culture followed by a fine dinner with friends. I have seen the Royal Albert Hall on TV dozens of times but never really given any thought to what it is really like inside. Making my way through the tube I made it with time to spare. Little did I know I was in for an afternoon of sheer terror. Climbing the stairs there was no feeling of impending doom. That all changed as I emerged into the seating area on the 3rd tier. Before me a sheer drop. Very steep banks of seats looked top heavy and so exposed. Fighting my way through those already seated I was already sweating, dizzy, and heart racing. It is not a place for people with a fear of heights.

I barely moved a muscle for the next 2 1/2 hours. I was simply too terrified. At the interval I stayed put and dared not look down. But gradual my body and mind slowed down. Soothed by sublime music I made it through without running. And what music. The exception was the Verdi where they had not done the balance check well as I could barely hear the soprano about the orchestra. With the Tchaikovsky I heard her at here best-brilliant.

The descent at the end was terrifying but I had made it.. What followed was a splendid evening of food and drink with Katherine and Sonya. We also had surprise visitor, another of our teaching friends Antony. A splendid day.

As I sit peacefully on this Sunday afternoon, Mozart plays quietly, the pork is slow roasting and I'm doing very little. There is 1 week to go at work. Then I'm off. This time in 2 weeks I will be in the heat of Spain. Finally a holiday after a 7 year gap. I very much need it. Recharge then back into the fray in a month. Who knows what dark, trying, or divine moments lie ahead next year. What I do know is I'm in a much better place now than I was last year. Long may that last.

I Heard a Voice.