Weekly update – back to normal

Millennium Bridge towards St Paul's Cathedral on a very BLUE day!
Millennium Bridge towards St Paul’s Cathedral on a very BLUE day!

Getting back to normal is very welcome.  Let me explain, as much as I enjoyed the celebrations over Christmas and the New Year, there is something so comforting about settling back into normal life.  Why?

More than ever I think I need my little routines and I do like to have some space to think.  Thinking includes daydreaming, mulling things over and weighing things up with Rachel.  It brings security and balance to life.

Last week saw January 1st and the celebrations concluding.  On January 2nd Becky and David (with granddaughter Grace) went home to Devon.  Same day I took my mother home to Somerset.  All the Christmas cards and decorations came down and the Christmas tree went out into the garden ready for the blummin Council to collect it.

So this week I’ve had U3A, such an exciting highlight!  We have formed a little photography group and I had previously agreed to give a little talk about Ansel Adams, ace American landscape photographer from the twentieth century.

I met with a friend who has kindly agreed to help with a charity we are involved in and in return I’m giving a talk to the local Probus group, all about the Probation Service.  In spite of returning my mother to her home last week, I needed to visit her again this week, such a dutiful son (it was all to do with the management of the block of flats that she lives in).

Perhaps the highlight of the week was an indulgent time in London, on my own.  While I had an early evening engagement, I decided to make a day of it, hence the photo above.

As you can see, it was a cold, crisp day and the light definitely had a strong blue tinge to it – it is certainly not me doing some jiggery pokery on my computer!!!  I enjoyed being there on my own and having a break from being a tour guide for our Ukrainian guests.

I managed to squeeze a time of contemplation in St Paul’s cathedral, time in the Tate Modern for a dose of wacky modern art (wow!) and a coffee.  A saunter along the Southbank and up to Waterstones in Piccadilly.  I spent ages there, looking at books, drinking coffee and spending too much pocket money.  Next was the Iconic Gallery and then the National Portrait Gallery as I had missed seeing the small Windrush collection before while squeezing in time for a cup of tea.

My ‘early evening’ was next.  Time to catch up with a couple of friends and chat with others at a very different kind of art exhibition.  Nice as that was, it was nice having the opportunity to chat spontaneously to others.  There really is so much to be gained from being in situations where you make the effort to just walk across the room and strike up a conversation; you never know where it might lead.

On Friday evening we had some local friends come for supper.  They too have a young Ukrainian woman staying with them and it was encouraging to see them being so happy and animated with each other, almost like long lost friends.  As they were leaving at about 10:00pm the young Ukrainian woman’s phone made a siren noise.  This, she explained, is a Ukrainian app warning of air raids in a particular city in Ukraine (I think this was her home city).

Without any further words of explanation, we all understood the significance.  Sadly it brought our Ukrainian friends back to their normal.  As tragically desperate as this is, it does put things more into perspective.

I went to bed with mixed feelings.  On one hand I am thankful we have been able to provide sanctuary for a family of three, plus our friends with their guest.  I was thankful for the laughter and lovely conversations taking place through the evening, somehow forgetting the horror of the war for a short time.  I felt a little guilty for my natural optimism and hopefulness.  That phone siren brought it crashing down in my mind.


As an aside, I note that the UK and US have fired missiles at Yemen, supposedly to teach them a lesson for firing at civilian ships off their coast.  I ask, are we ourselves now at war?

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