Today

Asleep by ten last night, I woke at four, quite a good long chunk of unbroken sleep. Then back eventually to strange and fitful sleep, little dream sequences with a lot of people in them. At about eight I made tea, brought L a cup in bed and had mine in the kitchen doing my morning pages, while the temperature gradually rose from 15 degrees to 17.5. Outside it was foggy and slightly frosty, and still. A young man stood outside the post office in pale blue jeans and a jacket that looked too thin, his foot up against the wall behind him. I thought women never do that. After pages, I went and got dressed, then came back downstairs for breakfast. It must have been about 9.15 by now, because C, our neighbour three doors up was just returning from her stint as lollipop lady outside the school, and I felt again faintly guilty as I poured my orange juice and put the kettle on. Then again, she's the one with the job... I mean, I'm not choosing this. So, porridge, banana, honey and raisins, a few tinned peaches, and a cup of redbush. Then onto the computer to check emails, the blog and the jobs websites. Nothing on any front. I crash into a kind of exhausted slump (despite the good sleep) and decide I need a walk. The fog is burning off and it's almost sunny. I decide to take a walk down rather than up today. I put on hat, gloves, scarf, fleece, gilet, and in fact it's so still it isn't that cold and I'm warm, shedding my gloves and hat by the end of the walk. I cross the road and head down the field, and into my favourite little valley. There are a lot fewer leaves after last week's wind and rain, but colours still glow gently and the bare trees have that strange almost purplish haze. Hawthorn berries are hot red. I pass sheep in the field above the woods. Most of the cows have now been taken in - too cold. The walk makes me feel a bit better, moves some energy, and when I get home I help L reorganise our outhouse - take out my rusting bike to make room for other things, put in some of the wood from the loft. L is pleased, and I feel as if we've done something useful. Inside we drink tea and eat a toasted teacake and I phone the national insurance people to try and work out if I should go for a small earnings exemption or not. The guy on the line says not paying Class 2 contributions will have an impact on my pension, but he is unspecific. Pension! Ha! Will there even be a state pension by the time I reach the age of 66, when I am considered by the state to be ready for retirement!!

I talk to L, read and ponder until lunch-time. Veggie pasties, one Moroccan style the other Mexican, and salad, and a clementine. Then I'm off to see friend H at her studio. She has had a haircut, and looks very lovely, and ten years younger. I keep staring at her. We have tea and biscuits, and talk about work and memory, hearing loss, Feldenkrais, and a group we are in together... until I have to go about 3.20. Outside parents and children are on the move.

Back home friend S has arrived to help with loft clearance, and the next hour and a half is taken up with carrying very dirty pieces of wood, hardboard, plasterboard, once I have received them from those bolder than me, up ladders and in lofts, out to the car to be taken to the tip tomorrow. Also found in loft 2, a plastic garden gnome, fishing! After S has gone, I hoover the landing, stairs and hall, and then phone my nephew A, who texted me earlier to let me know he now has a landline in his new flat. He sounds alright, says that the flat's not dingy despite being a basement, and is currently working at the Odeon in his adopted city, the one where he went to university, alternating between the ticket tearing, the popcorn selling and the clearing up after showings. He's moved in with his girlfriend, which to me seems a big deal. He doesn't say a lot about this. Characteristic.

Next I have a bath to remove all the dust and grime from the loft clearance, and L starts the cooking. I get out, she gets in, and I continue the preparation of a lamb balti. Leftover roast lamb from Sunday, lots of veg and potatoes, and good old Patak's balti curry paste. Yum. I have the great idea of opening the last two bottles of Tripel Karmeliet beer, brought to us from Belgium by my brother in the summer. It's quite strong and aromatic, made with oats, wheat and barley. It loosens the setting of my brain. After the curry, I ask L if she'd mind if I pull the laptop across and start using the computer. She says she doesn't and goes off to tidy up the landing cupboard. Wow! And here I am...