Distant Drums and Whispered Tremors.

A bitter northerly wind swept over the campus much of today. Having overdressed for cold weather yesterday I misread today's signs and ventured in clothed for a not too warm summer day. It was a mistake. Freezing.

Since my last post and in fact what was evident through my week off was that all was not right with me. In the distance, quiet but distinct the drums of my madness were beating, the seismic tremors of breakdown were still far off but I could hear them whispering.

The two things that I always have to watch are sleep and stress. Yes we have had more than a few stresses in recent weeks but I coped. So why did those devastating dreams so haunt and destroy me whilst I should have been resting?

Sunday night was very bad and I woke worried. Tuesday too. I toyed both days with the idea of staying home but my determination to go held. Yesterday was tough, real tough. I was left wondering if I would get a call today that could have eventually led me to a coroner's court. Life and death, sometimes that comes to me.

Now a day removed and danger averted I feel in a rather better place. My kitchen adventures were a disaster, my improvisational skills clearly need to be revised. I'm not very forgiving of myself for bad food.

Putting it in perspective now though I cannot hear drums beat distant or close. The earth of my life and edifice is still. There are things to look forward to. Pay day on Friday. And a trip to Cambridge. Tosca. My lovely friend Jayne. The Phoenix restaurant Histon. And maybe connecting with a friend from childhood. I'm trying to sort a visit to a girl I used to know. Facebook inevitably made us aware we both still exist. And maybe we will meet. The past is not all bad. And the future will not be either. Just on some days when those whispers come I get frightened that the bad will engulf me once more.

I Heard a Voice.

Unsolicited Visitation.

On the final day of my holiday I did not need a flurry of anxiety provoking dreams. From around 7 am when I was rudely awakened by the first of many to 11 am when I got up they came in waves. Sadly much of this week has been marred by such unsolicited visits from a past I thought I had banished when I gave up smoking.

The result is an anxious, edgy day that feels a little lost and an overwhelming desire to be alone. But I cannot be alone as my friend Jo is coming for dinner. Part of me wants to cancel as I usually do when not feeling right. Company is a good but undesirable distraction from the strangeness of the day.

The long holiday has brought me sleep but I do not feel too refreshed. The thought of an alarm going off to summon me back to reality is not very enticing. The hours will tick by as they always do. At 2 pm the pork will go in the oven, at 4 pm I will have tea, at 6.15 pm Jo will come then we will eat. She does have a great capacity to make me laugh so I shouldn't dread what is to come.

Apollo et Hyacinthus is this afternoon's opera. I've yet to choose some reading beyond what is left of the paper. Didn't find much in there today to lighten the hours. Let us hope my beloved cooking does the trick. I'll be back in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

A Triumph of Kerala.

Hello out there. I don't seem able to keep away from my ramblings this month. I did try to promise myself to blog less this year and keep things reasonable but sometimes my arrogance and desire to be noticed overwhelm me.

This escape from work has drawn me more to here to celebrate rather than talk of my occasional despair. It has with the exception of Monday been a lovely holiday. True my sleep hasn't been the best but I am feeling more mentally relaxed with things, less anxious and only occasionally low apart I'm holding my own. Past experience tells me that things do ease off after Easter. Many students will be finished by mid May, the end of the month at the latest.

That can wait though, I still have a weekend to myself to do as I will. Today I went back to an old favourite and cooked a curry. Old in the sense that once I cooked far more Indian food than I do now. Going back on a seldom used but never forgotten book I cooked a Keralan prawn curry with fresh curry leaves, turmeric and tomatoes. It was a mighty triumph. Not sure where that sits from a diet perspective but holidays are holidays.

I will ease off the fine food next week. I still have the wonders from Borough Market in the fridge, definitely trying the cured tuna tomorrow. As St George's Day comes on Sunday I toyed with beef but chose instead to get pork. This will slow roast for four hours of so. I will not be without beef as I have steak for tomorrow. Glass of red with that I think. Rioja is in abundance here at the moment so that is sorted.

Now I will listen to Schumann on the radio and do a little reading. Have a great weekend everyone.

I Heard a Voice.

And Again, When Will This End?

Did anyone out there expect yesterday's political earthquake? I had just woken up and turned on the news when Mrs May spoke and announced a shock election. I relish so much that I have the right to vote in my country a right not granted to all but another one? In so short a time? I'm not predicting anything on this sunny spring day but the ripples of change keep bombarding us.

Whilst it had nothing to do with the coming election I did not sleep well overnight. Why have all these dreams come back to bite me? I was up by 9 am on a holiday day. I chose the wrong day to come to St Albans after traffic hell on the bus. When I did get there though a light lunch at Little Marrakech, a wander in the market and a lovely pint of ale in The Lower Red Lion lightened my day.

I'm not wasting my week off. Spent a wonderful afternoon with Krishna yesterday. Too long has gone by since I saw her. The tapas was great, I battered my debit card in the market and then retired to The St Christopher Inn for a glass of ale.

What will tomorrow bring? I think I will take things gently. There is a small matter of roast chicken tonight, my neighbour Richard is coming round. The produce at the market is so much better than that accessible around here. I think some more Jersey Royals will go very well with it.

So far during my break I have steered clear of work. E mails when off rarely give good messages and calm demeanour. That can wait until next week.

I hope the sun is shining on you out there as spring progresses. I'll return when I feel like it.

I Heard a Voice.

Overindulgence Has a Price.

Something tells me I rather overdid things yesterday. The Easter lunch was a triumph. The fizz was beautiful, the smoked salmon sublime, the lamb and mint sauce divine and the company splendid. But today I'm paying something of a price.

Much as I look forward to Bank Holidays I do find myself at a loose end sometimes. Often a country pub beckons but feeling as I do now beer is the last thing on my mind. The overwhelming sensation when I woke was hunger. Some time since I had a hungry hangover but today it decided to revisit to remind me that I cannot be too overindulgent.

So on a cold grey Monday I have returned home after a fry up and wander in town to go back to Mozart and hunker down to a gentle day. I just feel a little lost.

I'm hoping the rest of my holiday is free from this mass of loneliness that is gripping me. Some days I want to shut out the world and today is that day. What would be better for my sudden self doubt is to seek out the company of friends and go somewhere. But that all feels too much.

The good news though is I get to see the excellent Krishna tomorrow and to eat tapas. She is a vegetarian so not sure what she will make of Brindisa but they do a selection of tapas so I'm hoping we will find something to her taste.

I will leave you to it now, run out of things to say. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

This Joyful Eastertide.

For many years I was always away at Easter. During the King's days it was services right up to Easter Day but most especially the wonders of Good Friday. In the Lancing days we always did a choir tour at Easter. Post then I continued to travel at the festival time. And now I'm at rest at home.

My journey to this point has spawned two books, a roller coaster life, a breakdown and a resurrection of sorts when I found Risperidone. Indeed in A Pillar of Impotence I quote the creed in Latin at my final breakdown then rising again. That rising took ten years but was worth it in the end. So here I am alive and well, somewhat better than the flatness of yesterday and cooking a splendid Easter lunch for my friends.

The lamb smells especially good as it roast away festooned with garlic and rosemary and seasoned with salt and pepper. When my friends get here I will crack open the fizz and serve a rare starter, smoked salmon on such a day seems fitting.

Handel is the chosen composer today. I suspect I will get through at least two operas today. I don't want to overdo things too early so will slowly and sparingly consume a glass of two of Rioja with the lamb. Then who knows.

If you are celebrating as a Christian or relaxing as a holiday have a wonderfully Happy Easter.

I Heard a Voice.

Wasted Dreams and Chilly Days.

Welcome to part 2 of my Easter blog instalments. Not the greatest of starts as once again the bad dreams have come back. I didn't feel very refreshed when I woke. But at least I didn't have to go to work.

Stepping outside it was curiously cold for an April morning despite the sunshine. I went out armed with a coat. Not much to report on my travels barring picking up the last pieces for my epic Sunday lunch tomorrow. I did manage to escape with Richard for a pint in the country. Today it was The Plough at Datchworth and The Chequers at Woolmer Green. The latter pub was a new venture for me.

Home again now. I remain chilly but I'm warmed by the Beethoven cello music that I have gone back to. Once again I will cook tuna, this time a variation on a Nicoise salad. I always recall mum ordering it in a restaurant and I forgot to tell her it would be rare. She sent it back. Oh how different generations like to cook their food. Last night's tuna with sweet onion and sherry came out pretty well.

With days all at variance I'm still struggling to orientate myself for this holiday and pick up my slightly dampened mood. Why do dreams so curse me when I'm on holiday? Let us hope for a better night when I finally make it to bed.

I Heard a Voice.