Slamming the Door.

On a beautiful sunny spring afternoon I'm at home trying to make sense of the last few days.

Calls, letters and messages that come completely out of the blue have always made me struggle. Especially when someone is slamming the door on my life.

Who wouldn't struggle as a compassionate caring person to be effectively told to fuck off? Relationships of course, that why I stay single, but also friends. More troubling is never knowing why.

Two communications have come in three days. Not both saying fuck off but really from the battering of the first to have another incredibly difficult conversation has made me feel quite vulnerable today.

Vulnerable is not a word many would apply to me but when mentally down that is exactly how I feel.

I will never get an answer to what happened nearly 32 years ago when someone walked out of my life with no word of explanation that cast into the free fall of madness. I still have no answers on that but mainly I don't ask the what if questions. 

With Mother's Day tomorrow and the anniversary of my mum's death on Monday being me doesn't feel good at the moment. 

I will bounce back but right now it hurts. Let us hope the salvation of my kitchen tonight will help. But please think of me in the coming days. 

I Heard a Voice. 

On the Eighth Day.

On a day of pouring rain and gloom I remain stuck at home with covid. The eighth day has seen some improvement but nowhere near 100%. I did manage the washing and some cleaning so achieved something. 

I had hoped by now to be out and about but will take a little longer. Perhaps I will test again tomorrow. 

Mentally I'm holding up quite well. There are anxious dreams, I have the disappointment of not making it to Kent today but mood feels good. 

Shortly I will listen to Choral Evensong on Radio 3. Always fun to listen to. This week a recording from Truro cathedral. 

The cooking adventure continues with a pork chop with shallot and sage in a cider sauce. Much as I love my kitchen and my cooking I really do look forward to eating out when the virus goes. 

Hopefully tomorrow it will be gone.

I Heard a Voice  

Taking it for Granted.

It's amazing how much we take for granted in life. Well at least if one has the money to pay for convenience. You find me on day 5 of covid. It's raining out but not sure what else is going on, haven't been out for 3 days.

Just popping to the shop around the corner from my flat has sometimes been a twice daily occurrence until no longer possible. Even during lockdown I could still shop.

Now I'm totally reliant on the kindness of my friends and neighbours. And now I'm realising we don't think or worry too much about supplies being low. Also just how much I spend on myself, good food and good wine.

The virus symptoms themselves seem to be evolving each day. Yesterday I had back pain, a cough and exhaustion. Today I ache all over and the cough is worse.

Looking back though aside from the terrible first 48 hours when I was wracked by fever it seems less severe than when I last had flu over New Year 1998/1999. Then I hallucinated night and day for a week and lost 3/4 stone in weight. 

Of huge comfort to me though is that I can still taste and smell. Despite the huge effort it takes I'm still cooking. And cooking well. Thoughts of roast beef excite me in painful times.

I'm listening to Don Giovanni as I write. Also as I write war rages in the east, many are dying and have no chance to take anything for granted. As I've said before I wish for peace and my thoughts are with all the victims of war.

Enjoy your Sunday. We will see what covid has in stall for me tomorrow. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Covid Strikes

Greetings out there. Some time has gone by since I last spoke to anyone on here. For that please accept my sincerest apologies. 

You find me stuck at home on a grey afternoon three days into covid. Having led a charmed and lucky life for the last two years the virus struck me on Wednesday. 

It was quite odd in that my first symptom was a very sore back. As I was going through health and safety training at work including chairs and posture and given I have a new chair that I don't know how to adjust I assumed it was that.

Then a terrible night of fever, intense headache and continued back pain. I barely slept and felt terrible. After e mailing my manager to say I wasn't coming in I did a test and as I feared it was positive. 

Last night I slept better and the fever seems to have broken. A sore throat is replacing it and my head and back still hurt but it is manageable today. 

The worst thing though is I'm forced to stay home and not travel to Kent for dad's birthday. Just didn't seem worth the risk even if I test negative 

A PCR test is ready to do this afternoon then just have to sit it out.

On a wider view the world seems a frightening and dangerous place as war rages in Ukraine. I only know what Western journalism tells me and I know the broadcasts in Russia are very different. But I wish for peace for everyone's sake regardless of nationality, creed or agenda.

Take care out there.

I Heard a Voice. 

Sunshine on Dark Days.

As the world grapples with war and the news is bleak all I can do is be thankful for small mercies. I will not make political comment on here, I have readers from many countries but I will say is that war is terrible and too many people die.

In my small part of the world the sun is shining and my mood is bright. A little too elevated I fear but I will enjoy it while I can.

Today I have shopped, topped up my car, did washing and cleaning, a covid test and there is rolled and stuffed breast of lamb slow roasting in the oven.

This was courtesy of The Farm Shop at Smallford. Not been there for ages as my work is little too far to go at lunchtime and with extra driving due to more office time I don't really want to venture far on a Saturday. 

Talking of work it is going well. The staff I manage seem to think I'm going great. They are too. So important to maintain high morale. This was tragically lacking at the university. I do get tired though. 

I did think of posting last week after the great storm. I stayed indoors but against advice dad decided to venture out to aid the community. Blown over he gashed his head and lost his glasses. After 11 hours in hospital he got home badly shaken and with 3 stitches. But he on the mend.

Stay safe in this scary world. 

I Heard a Voice  

In the Depths of the Fens

Greetings from the cold and windy fens. As is something of a tradition I am visiting Miriam and Nigel for Super Bowl weekend. 

My beloved Rams take on the Bengals tonight in their home stadium to fight for Super Bowl LVI.

After what at times was a tough week it is good to be away.

Friday was very difficult. I got hopelessly lost in my car in the morning. Then in a break between meetings in the afternoon I was accosted by a very intelligent but hostile and aggressive homeless man. Whilst I like talking to people sometimes the streets make me anxious and I just want to go unnoticed. 

Eventually I escaped him but it left me feeling pretty vulnerable.

But it's Sunday, I'm off on Monday and Friday with working from home in between. 

Lunch will be at The Maid's Head in Wicken with an old friend. Perhaps a walk after. Then a late one watching the game. 

Have a wonderful Sunday all.

I Heard a Voice. 

Promising Week Turned Sour.

Had I come on here to write on Thursday things would have been optimistic and good. Slowly but surely I am getting to grips with the job. I had bought some wonderful produce from a newly discovered fishmongers in Hatfield Market. And I was looking forward to a long weekend with my friend Marie who was visiting from Kent. 

All was going swimmingly until I slept poorly on Friday night and came down with an upset stomach on Saturday. By Sunday morning I was crippled by anxiety and my stomach was still doing cartwheels. 

Add in overcooked rack of lamb and the optimism of last week has evaporated. 

That it is a temporary setback I have no doubt. Just a shame that a promising long weekend has been marred by malady.

Yet it being Sunday there is opera. The Rams take on the hated 49ers in the NFC Championship Game tonight, too late for me to watch as I'm working tomorrow. But a victory will go a long way towards righting my ship.

The week ahead will come one day at a time. And I intend to thrive if I can. I have my final therapy session on Wednesday. It will be a shame to say goodbye but he has indicated he wants to stay in touch. All the greatest practitioners are mavericks and break the rules. Therapy is a human interaction not a boundaried inhuman exchange that suits the needs of the therapist more than the needs of the individual. 

I Heard a Voice.