The Ghost Chilli.

What a night! After my recent turbulence my birthday was spectacular. So much food, so many friends, so many messages, and a couple of beers. Well that's not strictly true. I am blessed to have such wonderful friends. Many had not met each other before yesterday but everyone got on. A true day to remember.

Now it the day after I emerged not hungover, tired but relaxed to my first day of being 45. Yes only 5 years to 50. It flies at this age. But there is much to savour. The day has been most gentle, shopping, The Marriage of Figaro, a couple of glasses of Pimm's, lamb chops and Chianti and now Beethoven's violin sonatas.

So where do I go from here as I enter my 8th year at the University? The answer is I don't know. Only time will tell me that. For the time being though I will savour my blessings, focus on what I have got and sample the marvellous presents people gave me. Dory of course outdid everyone by giving me a huge box of chillies, She felt she needed an addition though so she also bought me the ghost chilli! I'm not sure I'm brave enough to try it but you never know.

Tomorrow brings a jaunt round some country pubs with a couple of friends. Tuesday brings lunch out with a colleague. And Wednesday takes me to Kent. The count down to the big wedding it well under way.

I Heard a Voice.

A Surprise Visit.

Today did not start well. My original plan was cancelled yesterday. It left open opportunities for St Albans or Cambridge perhaps. That was all dependent on sleeping well. It didn't happen. The edgy feeling of the last few days persists and the dreams are back. I'm hoping it is only temporary. Not always easy making decisions on day when I feel like this. So I just ambled about, bought a couple of bits and pieces then off to a shopping centre. A pub was planned on the way home.

Well it didn't happen. A surprising call from my friend Ali over here from Nigeria brought me back to home for a most unexpected meeting. We only did coffee and walked with her boys in the park and we were only together 90 minutes but such a nice change on a day that was not up to much.

Home again I can't be bothered to cook. So it is to the take away. Then on to tomorrow. The big birthday. I will see many friends tomorrow. Let's hope my mood holds and anxiety disappears even for a short while.

I might write one more post before the end of August; see you then.

I Heard a Voice.

Undisturbed Memories.

Sometimes it just takes a single sound, sight or smell to trigger buried memories. That can work for good as well as ill. For the mad it can go a stage further into flashback although I've not had one of those for some time. Well not whilst I was awake anyway.

Those who lived through private school in the 1970s and 1980s will recall places that were at best spartan and at worst brutal. Those were words my friend Erny used to describe his time at his boarding school. No doubt such conditions always existed before then too but I didn't witness them.

Any of us who lived through that time in the famous choir that became such a part of my life will recall the words "tap" and "Star of Bethlehem". I mention the latter in Charon's Ferry. Only those with a sadistic temperament will recall them with any fondness. It was institutional bullying the like of which I know was replicated in other choir schools at the time.

So why mention that today? Well it will be very hard to has not noticed the ice bucket craze that is sweeping the world at the moment. All in a good cause although not everyone knows which cause. Nor how to pay. It struck me as an awful thing to do to put people in a position where they are pressured into getting drenched in ice cold water. I wouldn't want to nominate anyone.

Late last night this strange phenomenon took me back to the 1970s. Not good to awaken slumbering demons. And those demons came for me in the night. I slept very badly and awoke far too early. The promise of the day and the sun soon evaporated and I find myself a little restless.

Yet with Mozart's Great Mass playing I hope to ease the anxiety of the night and the past as I drift on towards Saturday. The big day, 45, two meals out and lots of friends. That is something  to erase the past. Well until the next time.

I Heard a Voice.

The Sun has Been Spotted!

There is a rumour flying round Facebook that the sun has been spotted in my part of Hertfordshire this afternoon. I think it is just that, a rumour. At least it has stopped raining though. I'm at home in the warm listening to Pink Floyd's iconic album Dark Side of the Moon. All crazy people from the 1990s will recognise it as our anthem. Those who came to my book launch in February will recall I talked about it in a context of "us and them" which is such a pivotal theme in Charon's Ferry.

And so my holiday goes on despite the rain. I'm taking it gently today. Popped to the Cowper Arms just up the road for a quick pint. Tonight I will meet my friend Hannah at the Fu Hao. Each day that ticks away brings me closer to the new year. For now I will try to forget about that.

It would appear that my recent communications in this sphere and in others have had a profound impact on some out there. In reality I'm just quite good with words. The emotion behind it all is genuine enough though. I am so lucky to have such a wonderful collection of friends out there from so many walks of life. So on a day of coming autumn I celebrate my friends and my happy but not manic outlook of the last couple of days. Must stay away from the buzzy times-pisses people off too much.

I Heard a Voice

Recovery, Moving on, and Meeting the Past.

The rain has been pouring down all day. It is so cold I have put a jumper on. The smell of roasting collar of bacon and cloves pervades through my flat. And I'm listening to Alanis Morrisette's brilliant album Jagged Little Pill. Don't get mad get even, an afternoon of female angst. I'm not feeling any angst at all today.

On a Bank Holiday Monday which traditionally was set aside for the Day of Decadence I'm reflecting on how far I have come. As I caught the train to London yesterday I was filled with a mix of anticipation, anxiety and curiosity. 24 hours later after a glorious few hours with my old friend Ros my fears have dissipated. Both of us have seen the demons of mental illness and tragedy yet as we faced each other for the first time in nearly 20 years we both realised quite how far we have come.

As was pointed out to me last year at a conference recovery is a journey not a destination so we are not "there" yet nor will we ever get there. But we made it this far. Trials and tribulations will beset us both at times for years to come but we have to fight back. What is the alternative?

I know one day my madness will return but it will not longer destroy me. Too much of my life was spent succumbing to fate and not fighting back. Now I know something different.

So to Ros who is out there a long way away, thanks for a meeting of minds in the here and now not of our angst and despair ridden former years.

I Heard a Voice.

Anyone Out There?

All seems quiet out in blogland. Numbers have dropped off and as ever no reason for it. But things will pick up at some stage no doubt. The quiet out there is matched by the quiet of my day. Shopping, cleaning and all those dull things. Well I suppose they have to be done at some stage.

Having completed my virtuous tasks for the afternoon it is on to cooking. A lamb tagine is bubbling away, a theme on a variation in a book that I added my own touches to. Smells good so it is promising. My beloved Mozart also plays although at this stage it is a violin sonata rather than an opera.

So starts my holiday. I'm glad to be away from things quiet though they were. Mood is neither good nor bad; it just is. Tomorrow I will catch the train to London although services are disrupted yet again. I also expect it to be busy with the Notting Hill Carnival on. I've never been although I was invited my friend Beth's then boyfriend some years ago but they split up before the event. I wonder what happened to him? I rather liked him. The count down to Beka's wedding goes on-2 weeks today. I wrote my father of the bride speech yesterday. Well to be honest it is not exactly written, merely 8 bullet points to remind me. This time next week I will be 45. A number of friends will come for that-should be fun.

More posts in the week. See you then if you come back.

I Heard a Voice

The Chill of Autumn.

There is something incredibly uplifting and invigorating about listening to Carmina Burana early in the morning on the way to work. The first chills of autumn have arrived as the summer trickles to its end. It seems very early for such a chill to come but each year is different. In August 2007 I was desperately trying to find somewhere to live as the rain hammered down and my move to the university was imminent. It was all a different world then. Perhaps I am more hardened and cynical now than then.

I had things on my mind on the way, I wasn't happy but not angry. What seemed to face me was a bureaucratic nightmare that I thought had long been left behind. The first phone call of the day alleviated that somewhat and my path to re-enrollment on my course appears smoother than it did last night.

It is day of tidying things up. There are a couple of little tasks to do before I break at the end of the week. Then and only then can I count down to my traditional end of summer beginning of autumn break. Will I be refreshed when the mayhem begins again in earnest? I hope so. We go once again into the unknown. Change is teasing us with possibilities. But none of us know the outcomes. Change can be disconcerting. My friend Madeline said to me yesterday that I needed to do things differently if I want to make change to work for me. I will give that one some thought whilst I'm away.

On Sunday I will meet up with my old friend Ros for the first time in nearly 20 years. She recently learned that her nephews have a rare genetic disorder that will almost certainly shorten their lives. The poignant and sad story featured in the Guardian at the weekend. I share it here for you all.

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2014/aug/16/our-beautiful-sons-could-die-before-us

Hurrah, a link that works-had some assistance from my friend James.

I Heard a Voice.