The usual twitchy day prior to travel - is everyone like this, or is it really just me? There's something about a journey that makes me very unsettled. Possibly because I hate flying and I do actually hate travel - but it will be nice to be in Madeira tomorrow. At least it won't be ruddy snowing, though showers are forecast. Hell, I don't mind - it will be warmer. So I've made a start on the packing though the fear of forgetting something remains. And the new airport rules are making my head ache. Of course water is no longer allowed so we'll all be at dehydration's door by the time we arrive, no doubt! And my hand-luggage size allowance is not, I'm sure, what they'll be expecting. The trick of travelling light alludes me.
Lord H has spent all day tacking his divorce essay for theology class and also doing his self-assessment for last week's presentation. I have provided wifely proof-reading consultancy, so I have not been entirely unuseful. I've also finished the ironing, so wife points galore are, I'm sure, being showered upon me.
As for me, I've spent the rest of the day catching up with things I've recorded from TV. This means I have now watched all three hours of "The True Voice of Prostitution", "The True Voice of Rape" and "The True Voice of Murder". All true stories (obviously), but voiced & played by actors. Gripping, and really heavy, viewing. The one that had me sobbing like a baby was Lesley Sharp's (great actress, btw) portrayal of a mother whose daughter was murdered. Devastating stuff. And an eye-opener to one such as myself, who has been fortunate enough never to have had direct experience of any of these ordeals, but who writes about them in all my fiction. Sometimes at the same time. It's a weird feeling when real life breaks in to the world in my head.
Tonight, while Lord H is at theology class, I think I'm going to watch the drama, "Recovery", which I also videoed from some time ago, but which I've never got round to watching. And as it's a drama starring David Tennant and Sarah Parrish, it should be hot stuff. I think they're great together. Again, possibly not pre-holiday viewing, but what the hell.
And I've finally got round to writing a poem about the glorious picture that hangs on our living room wall opposite the sofa. I bought it some time ago for Lord H's birthday, and I love it:
L’escalier blanc: Nicholas Verrall
White steps lead upwards
to a greater light,
the shadow fading
on each slow rise.
On the left, pink bougainvillea drift
in an unfelt wind
while the pots on the right
are dappled with sunshine.
I do not see
what is beyond the topmost pillar
but already I can sense
an opening out,
a chance to shake off
the shadows’ grasp
and taste the warmth of the sun
as it sinks into skin.
All journeys lead through shadow
to an unknown light.
Only the choice of timing
I also feel a little guilty about not doing anything to "The Gifting", but I'm hoping the break will bring me back refreshed so I can at least get Simon across the water into his last scenes. Which I suspect will be long ones.
And I've had some interesting and really helpful comments responding to yesterday's blog - so thank you to those who responded. I also had my first equally interesting experience of making the decision not to accept a comment or two, as they were not helpful to me, but possibly more helpful to the contributor. I do feel a little raw about it, I must admit, but at least it means I am exercising some sort of control over what I do and what I do not accept. A lesson for life indeed ...
As this will be my last blog until after my holiday (which ends next weekend), I hope you all have a great week wherever you are and whatever you're doing. Take care.
Today's nice things:
1. Watching serious, and gripping, TV
2. Writing my poem
3. Looking forward to my holiday.