They say that time flies when you are enjoying yourself. So, I dread to think how quickly these weeks would be going past if I was enjoying myself.
We’ve had a week of no curtains in the bedroom. We have noticed a drop in temperature at night with no barrier to the cold and dark outside the window. Meanwhile neighbours will have complained of sightings of the abominable snowman in the neighbourhood as I’m backlit against the night sky, all white and hairy. Like I’m a character in a Scandi noir crime thriller where no one has any curtains or blinds. The only difference being they have a population density similar to the moon; whereas I’m doing it in the equivalent of a packed campsite.
It suddenly dawned on me – at half five in the morning – perhaps I’m poisonous to animals. It’s been long established that insects don’t bite me. I seem to have a built-in repellent. But seeing Sniffles run into the bedroom before me I though that he has never licked me. Meanwhile, Charlie would be forever licking or trying to lick my hands and knees, and he died of some cancerous growth. Not long before that Willow went the same way, and she had a habit of either licking the back of my head or my feet. I’m wondering, if Sniffles does take it upon himself to start licking me, whether that is a sign to start writing his elegy.
It’s unusual for me to get to bed first, I’m usually the one still pratting about on my laptop, but it was Helen on Friday. I’d got up, rinsed my glass, filled it with water, been for the pre bed pee, brushed my teeth, done a hot water bottle, and she was still on the sofa.
“I won’t be long, it just feels weird not responding to x’s message.” (I wasn’t paying that much attention).
But I did have the thought, what if both Helen and her friend are now locked in a responding death circle? They’re both being too polite to put the phone down and go to bed in case the other one messages back and doesn’t get a response and is thinking the other one is being rude. Whereas in real life, neither will actually think the other is being rude, and in actual fact both of them are praying that the other one doesn’t answer so they can go to bed. They’re both thinking “for the love of god woman, just go to bed and respond in the morning, it’s already midnight and I wanted to be asleep in bed hours ago.”
Meanwhile, I responded to an e-mail someone sent me in November, deleted two sent to me in December without bothering to respond, and looked at one from this week and thought, ‘eff it, CBA responding tonight, I’ll have another look next week.’ And that’s before I looked at my personal ones.
I was changing the bed Saturday morning it was interesting to note the difference in pillow indentations between Helen’s pillows and mine. Her two pillows still look light and fluffy almost as if they haven’t been slept on. Mine meanwhile have a bit of a pancake look with a deep impression in the middle as if a sixteen-pound bowling ball has been there all night.
Sunday saw a little wander around in the sunlight. As always, we started out from Southgate. First, we went across Southgate playing fields, taking in the surrounding vista, then through Hawth Woods, and across into Furnace Green. I’ve done various walks through Furnace Green before, whether just looking around, or going through to Tilgate or Maidenbower. And what always fascinates me is the wonderful array of different housing through the estate. Chalet style bungalows, modern terraces, semi-detached, detached, three story blocks of flats; and in so many different styles. What is also wonderful is the effort made to keep little oases of green, whether in public areas, or in the cramped front yards of houses. Coming from the Hawth we came down to Waterleas, through the little estate of Norfolk place names, and into Forestfield Conservation Area and back out to Weald Drive, before leaving Furnace Green behind to come back past the locally listed Tilgate Parade and back up to home in Southgate.
Once back at home it was mainly watching sports. Spurs managed to hold a lead in another insipid display (no matter what the commentators were saying). Only for them to be out insipid-ed by the Liverpool vs Manchester United game. The NFL was a lot better, with two very good games. At least they didn’t go so late as the week before, and it was only three in the morning when I got to bed.
When I eventually got up on Monday, I had a quick wander around Southgate, meandering back and forth between Brighton Road and Horsham Road. Mainly picturing street signs. Took some pics of locally listed buildings on Goffs Park Road and Brighton road, some other impressive looking houses along Goffs Park Road and Perryfield Close, and then did four seasons in one day, and the Brighton Road Conservation Area, though I wasn’t able to find a conservation area sign for Brighton Road itself.
And then it was back to work, or as it is more accurately called on days like Tuesday, sitting around bored to death on calls. Much the same as Wednesday morning. There was no respite from calls out of work either, although I had enthusiastically (well as much as I’m ever going to be enthusiastic) signed up for the latest zoom writing course. Plus, I actually wrote something that wasn’t a blog or FRC, with my first short story in about five months. I’m hoping this new course will kick start some creativity.