This blog is supposed to be about my work, so this entry will be very brief – that tough boss I have has allowed me some time off. Whether it’s for good behaviour or not, I don’t know, but I’ve done very little this week. As far as real work goes, I made the books of pieces by the patients at the surgery in Tewkesbury (I’m quite pleased with these), wrote a piece to be used in the Koestler awards annual review, and did some typing up of prison stuff.
Apart from that – well, I’ve generally had a good time. I went to the gym with The Daughter, and saw The Tourist (good fun). I’ve repaired and repainted some damp patches, caused by the now-repaired leaking overflow pipe (less good fun). I’ve done some gardening… and I think I’ve lost a day somewhere, because my diary is completely blank.
But never mind. It’s a new year, and the days are already getting longer. January will be busy, and I haven’t caught up with all I should have done during the break, but I’ve got a fairly easy week so I should be well up with all my work stuff by next weekend.
It would seem appropriate to include a poem I was asked to write last year on the theme of hope. You never know, it could be a good year.
…is delivered with each baby;
is the box round every diamond ring;
it fills the air when children sing.
Begin again! it whispers
to each drunkard who has slipped from grace.
It smiles from every lover’s face,
and slouches at each student’s side.
It takes you on a fairground ride,
swims by you out to sea;
it’s the athlete’s personal trainer,
and the artist’s promised fee.
It straightens out the collar
of each candidate at interview;
it’s born again; it’s new
with each bar mitzvah, Eid or christening –
with or without faith, it’s always listening.
Hope is everybody’s friend;
it gives the high that never ends;
it is the lie that lights the dark
when it lurks in rooms of death,
its truth unsympathetic, stark:
we live, and hope lives with us
in each dawn
and every breath.