There’s never an average week

I was going to give this post the title “An average week”, but then I realised that actually there never is one for me.

Monday was lots of prep and lots of emails. In between I applied several coats of varnish to my repaired and restored house sign. It came out on Tuesday looking as if someone had spent hours carefully ageing it, which is ok – it goes with my house. I started paying Poetry on Loan invoices in the evening, but realised that I couldn’t see well enough to do the job. I just have to accept the fact that I need reading glasses now, at least in the evenings.

I’m fine in the mornings, so I spent a happy time on Tuesday sending people money. In the afternoon I went to the hospital, where I worked with a lovely man – articulate and good-humoured – and wrote two poems using his words, both of which I was rather pleased with. He was delighted; I had a very pleasant email from him after I’d typed them up and sent them to him.

In the evening I saw Filth. This is supposed to be funny, in a dark way, but I found it desperately sad from start to finish.

On Wednesday I put the sign up, in the rain, and came in to find some unpleasantness on Facebook. I hate bad feeling, so I spent some time composing careful emails to restore things. No need for details. I did some prep, and in the afternoon worked with my GP surgery group. It was a terrific session, full of creativity, laughter and catharsis. And then I went to the supermarket; not quite so much creativity there.

In the evening I made two big Christmas cakes, although they are slightly less big than they should be because of my passion for uncooked Christmas cake mixture. And I started a job application. Job applications are the bane of my life; I put so much effort into saying how good I am (which I hate doing), and then nothing happens. I finished the application on Thursday.

But Thursday was also one of the really good days of the year! I met my friend Jackie during my first week at university, and we have been friends ever since. Now, though, she lives in New Zealand. She comes back to the UK once a year to visit her family, and I get to see her either for a full day or, as on Thursday, for just a few hours. Each time we meet it’s as if we are carrying on a conversation started the day before. We spend a few delightful hours together, and then she was gone again.

On Thursday evening I went to Hit the Ode, a wonderful poetry night in Birmingham. I did an open mic slot, which went down well, but unfortunately I couldn’t stay very long because I had stupidly left my special cushion in the car. Without it I still can’t sit for more than a couple of hours on ordinary hard chairs, and quite soon I gave up on the wincing and left.

On Friday I managed to do some cleaning! My poor house has been really neglected in the last few weeks because I’ve been so busy, and it’s lovely to have clean floors again. And I did a lot of prep for this coming week.

No rest on Saturday – it was my monthly day with young people in Hereford. It was a bit sad, though; two older teenagers I’ve worked with for a couple of years feel that their group, which now includes 12-year-olds, just isn’t for them any more. They made a special trip to tell me personally, and gave me a thank-you card, but it did leave me feeling a bit down.

And on Sunday, The Son and I went to visit my old mum in Cheshire. She was really pleased to see us. We gave her her (belated) birthday presents, and had a bit of fun gathering lots of apples from her tree; and on the way back saw the message “Oncoming vehicle” on the overhead gantries on the M6. I have never seen this before. We didn’t see any oncoming vehicles, though, which was probably just as well.

So, another average week? Not really.

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