I ended last week’s blog by saying “Fortunately, this week will be relatively easy.” Hmm. I suppose Monday was – lunch out with a favourite relative; I think he’s my second cousin. Then lots of prep and answering emails, and in the evening off to deepest Birmingham for my appearance on Radio Wildfire. I think it went ok, although afterwards I was annoyed with myself for doing old poems instead of new ones. Never mind; they said I can go back again another time.
On Tuesday I had a hospital session that went quite well, and a meeting about the music festival project, that seems to be coming along nicely, and then I had to do lots of prep for my prison day. This was good, too – the guys in the new group continued to astound me with their excellent poems, and they worked hard. And the newsletter is printed and out on the streets. Well, wings.
I had to dash home for a TADS meeting. We were all a bit down, because it seems we won’t be putting in an entry for the Gloucester One Act play festival this year, and of course some of the people there didn’t know about the All England disappoinment, and the Edinburgh disappointment. And the ongoing saga of our attempts to change signatories on our bank and building society accounts continues. It is no wonder that banks are now considered worth less than estate agents, when they can take so long for something so simple, and handle it all with a succession of failures and ineptitude.
And then on Thursday, Friday and Saturday I worked so hard! PoL actions and emails; TRA actions and emails; preparation for a course I will be running with some other people; Ledbury Poetry festival actions; prison write-up; big report completed (yes, I know I said it was completed last week, but changes were needed…).
I did watch ER on Thursday, obviously, and managed to do a whole lot of ironing. And on Friday I saw the new Star Trek movie. Never mind the special effects – anyone can do those nowadays – but the casting was amazing, at least for anyone who watched Star Trek right from the start. Go see.
Norman’s funeral was on Friday, in our rather lovely local church. I’m not a great one for religion, to put it mildly, but I’ve always liked the atmosphere in our local church, and it and the service were just right for a man who has lived pretty well all his life in the same house in the village. And on Saturday I had a phone call from the husband of a cancer patient I had worked with two years ago. She wrote to me recently, with a new poem she had written, and asked if we could meet again. She didn’t have much time, she thought. I wrote back, saying yes of course, but received no reply. Her husband asked if I could read the poem at her funeral tomorrow. I felt honoured to be asked, and I would have done, but I’ve got a meeting tomorrow that I really have to go to, so I can’t.
This morning started badly, with a phone call from someone I know; quite unintentionally, I have upset her or annoyed her or both. Of course I said I was sorry, and I’ve done what I can to put things right. But I hate the fact that I’ve done this, and it made me feel bad.
But still. It really is all relative. There are so many people with so much more reason to feel low than I have; and the sun is shining, and I’ve mowed the lawns, and today’s work is coming along reasonably well. And, talking of relatives, I’ve had text messages from my mum (on holiday with my brother) that are written in the strangest sort of text language you can imagine. Always good for a laugh.