One wonderful day

If we could all have one wonderful day a week, that would be enough, wouldn’t it? I think people would be happy with six ordinary days as long as there was one wonderful one. I had a wonderful day this week – but then, I often do; I know I’m very lucky.

On Monday I finished the office painting – sanding, undercoat, gloss. I wrote up all the stuff from the young people’s groups on Saturday, and did some prep for my GP surgery group, and dealt with lots of emails, and mowed both the lawns for the first time this year. It’s always a pain the first time because the grass is long and damp and gets stuck in the tube and I have to keep stopping to get it out – but on the other hand, I do have a ride-on lawnmower, and it’s really just fun.

And I finally managed to open my patio doors, which had been swollen by the rain and got stuck. And then I couldn’t close them – not at all. Fortunately The Bloke came round on his white charger and with his bag of tools, and spent ages with a rasp reducing the size of the doors and the frames until they would close again.

On Tuesday I had a session at the hospital which wasn’t that great; I started work with people and then they were called into appointments, which was a bit frustrating. I put everything back in my office and it’s all bright and shiny, and a pleasant place to work in now. More prep and phone calls, and work on the Poetry on Loan recommended booklist; we now have the final choice of ten books. Now I have to organise the lovely leaflet about them that will go out to all the libraries in the West Midlands. And I wrote a poem.

In the evening I went to see The Lego Movie – not my kind of film, but I wanted to see what all the critics thought was so good. It was dreadful; absolutely awful. Don’t go!

More prep and emails on Wednesday, and my GP surgery group, which went well; next week will be even better, I think. I drove straight from Tewkesbury to Dursley for an Artlift meeting. everything is back on track with Artlift and it’s all looking good. And I got everything ready for an early start on Thursday.

Thursday was the wonderful day. I spent the morning at a Gloucestershire Probation services conference; the probation services are all being reorganised, so this was an event for people to think back on their experiences and look forward to the future. Very wisely, they decided to make it creative, so there was a storyteller, a textile artist, and two poets, Steve Duncan and me. Steve was there as an ex-service user as well as being a poet, and he gave the keynote speech. I ran a workshop with about 35 people, and they were terrific; they wrote brilliant individual pieces, with just a little help, and then group pieces which they performed to the whole conference. Wow! Loads of them said that they had found the workshop inspirational, which is always nice.

In the afternoon I went to the hospital and worked with an inpatient, who said that she had found the whole thing therapeutic; she was a lovely person and it was uplifting to talk to her. And in the evening I worked with the book group at the prison. They were great; lots of good discussion – but they are all very disappointed that it will all be ending soon when the funding runs out. But what a terrific day!

Friday was, as usual, accounts day, and lots of writeups, and Poetry on Loan arrangements, and lots of emails, and more prep. And a trip to the gym, and prep for the first rehearsal of Quartet, which takes place this evening.

On Saturday we went to the Jet Age museum at Staverton, which was well worth a visit – full of knowledgeable, enthusiastic people, and I got to sit in a Vulcan cockpit!

And on Sunday I cleared all the junk out of my poor broken down old shed, which will soon be demolished and taken away. It’s very nearly falling down on its own. It’s all a bit sad, really – I can remember going out and buying it. Still, it was a useful exercise, with three trips to the tip to get rid of all the old boxes stored in there, gently rotting.

So – several good days, and one wonderful one. Can’t ask for more, really.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s