25 years is a long, long time!
July 2020
As lockdown sort of came to an end, we nipped North to the Lakes! Four days of heaven. It’s my spiritual home. I dont know why but I’ve always felt the same way about it since I was a kid. And what a welcome breath of new space and views. I’m always surprised by the amount of people I talk to who’ve never been! If you haven’t, grab a kagool and adventure out - it’s stunning.
Holiday snap alert!
We came back to London as mask abiding citizens. Hot spots of Corona infections seem to be on the rise. Parts of Lancashire, and elsewhere effectively told to lockdown again. Who know’s what’s going on?
It’s a strange time isnt it? I feel oddly at one with myself but at the same time not quite here. I woke this morning and had no words to describe my feeling. I’ll stick with discombobulated (again) for now. I’m neither here, nor there. Up nor down. I don’t know what day it is, or what the hecks going on. My motto is to keep grounded and get stuck into something. I’m stuck into my typing. In fact I’ve worked out that my interviews average out at 50,000 words each. That’s almost a dissitation per person to edit. Just for the record, I’m never, ever interviewing 100 people for a project again. I love it but the work load I’ve created is bonkers!
As is 25 years of marriage. I’ve been married to the same man for 25 years. Last week we acknowleged our wedding anniversay for the first time. I’m not normally a celebrant of such occasions but I thought, you know what - 25 years is a long, long time, I think we should make an effort to acknowlegde it. So he put on a clean shirt and I dabbed on a bit of perfume and off we went to the same bar we had our ‘do’ at, all those years ago. As we walked in the smell of bleach was choking, the tables we so far apart from each other we might as well have stayed at home. The atmosphere at best was - clinical! Nevertheless we marked the occasion.
Yesterday I got the most wonderful email from a social worker who works for a charity helping families with a parent in prison. She’s setting up a book club hoping to inspire the group to create a piece of writing for themselves. Collecting Conversations has been recommended as their first book. I’ve just sent her 30 copies. I can’t wait to hear how that goes.
As I type Martin is walking towards me with another Bakewell tart to sample. Thank god the gym has reopened! My interviews start again mid August. I’m still looking for an older man or two. Let me know if you can think of anyone. If you need me, I’ll be in my shed typing. See you in September…