Weekly Event

The week begins with a 'Blue Sky Mind' meditation led by Adam from Mindspace. I am reminded of laying on the grass, and sitting on the seat, by the Cotswold path, near to The Bothy where I stayed during my meditation teacher training. The neat accommodation, carefully restored, was also a place where I recorded a guided meditation; now it is an Airbnb. Who knows what the future holds I may return and complete the circle.

I am reading the revised and expanded edition of inward by yung pueblo, whose real name is diego perez; his pen name apparently reminds him of his Ecuadorian roots as I suppose one of my pen names coastmoor reminds me of the coast and the moor where I once lived. Why do we have the need for nom de plumes? Wikipedia gives 6 reasons, how many can you come up with.

After several years of restricting my physical activities, I returned to the garden yesterday. We have it in mind to extend the decking area and to use the gravel, which we recover, for tidying up the area outside the utility room window, not that I spend too much time looking out of that particular window. The project also includes making two substantial planters and a set of steps. We are doing the work ourselves!

Bugger! The drill does not work, and after watching a repair video on youtube I determine the best thing is to buy a new one. B&Q online are out of stock of the same model, but they do have one which looks pretty similar for click and collect. It is on order and due to be collected within the hour. Just time to read a little bit of The Perfume of Silence, bought for no other reason than the title attracted me.

Today I have been moving my old iMac computer in readiness for when and if I upgrade to the new beast which Apple has just released. It gave me the opportunity to look at some of the old files, one of which was a journal from my time at university in Buxton (the snap above is the view out of my study-bedroom window). Even then my journalling was erratic, my final post having come six weeks after the previous one!

Image courtesy of Graham Durham on Unsplash

The Ladybower trip was a short-lived affair. My son arrived with a punctured tyre so we had to bid a fast retreat. Fortunately, I drove back via Snake Pass, with its immense views and sneaking scary bends. Then to Marsden via the top of the moors, and finally to call in on my brother, whose village is being inundated with new houses. How angry would I be if I still lived there.

TGIF. A full morning of poetry where Rob brought his extravaganza of a poem about Mexborough, Ian McMillan eat your heart out. I meanwhile shared a poem from Refusing Heaven by Jack Gilbert, who very much is my go-to poet of the moment. All readings were well received, a most positive morning.

Saturday. That's how desperate the football has become. By the time you read this SWFC may have already been relegated, or they may be able to live to fight another day.