When we were here

This is much of an impasse as it is another turning on this dreadfully long junction, which appears so normal these days.

I realised that it's been a little while since I last ventured on here, lookinng back not as far as I thought. Only the 11th April, yet another month gone, god this is downbeat, I was meant to be uplifting and welcoming, light hearted.

So whilst I've been off here, whats happened:

The Easter break, where time could stand still by water, flowing past, forever on it's journey,

Derwent Resevoir (Peak District)

Derwent Footpath (Peak District)

Wetton, Peak District (Thors Cave looks out on to)

A Royal Wedding,

A new but very temporary job,

More voluntary work,

I've lost my voice...and instead of what many know to be a mix of accents and dialects in my voice, I now have this standard husky, professional yet personal tact. Distilling to me because I always enjoy listening to voices with a good depth, accent and complete tongue twist. Voices you wish you had been given, now I've broken mine I sense I've found a new layer, a soft quietness with air, I wonder if its working on the girls yet? Hmm, I wish.

Jobs, tasks and endless exercises: paperwork has come and gone, its still stacked high. No amount of intray time & sorting wants to clear it out.

I have gone from happiness through to dam right chilling,

Made for the hills,

Wished for more cycling time, again and again I wish I could glide on wheels like the professionals, the essential hum of rubber and sprocket set on tarmac- I've only ever heard it once for sure.

Watched a spring "heatwave" and now a down pour in three nights,

Been to The Abingdon Air Show:

Vulcan Bomber on a fly past (poor quality on what could have been an excellent photo)

Done people's gardening,

seen a large fire engulfing a Forest, what makes an arsonist?

For sake ye not,
do not tread passsed my door,
do not pass go,
I command you to stop,
You horrible people.
And yet, I know you will not.

But as ever the listener:
John Ronson On : The Fine Line Between Good and Bad.
This is just a poor edition of what I was hoping for, if you really wish to listen.

I didn't have the time nor the power of language to write free hand for 31 days straight on Writer's Island. I'm more adhoc, as soon as I here a phrase that would be good to write I've forgotten it, and if it be, yes I'm boring.
So I'm around and the seasons have changed. But like I said, I'm unlikely to be back until probably the 11th June. Something says my voice is going to be broken for a lot longer still, that or I will permanently sound like you couldn't make life worse, or, more to the point, like an operator reading the same lines repetitively even though right this instant it is good...good? Ja, gut, fine, brilliant...

...I'm working, I'm applying for jobs, I'm volunteering, I'm having fun, but its costing me and not to forget that you have not seen my long list of tasks.

And when it all stops, there is nothing.
An the emptiness fills the air clinging, my god how I long for a stiff drink.


P.s. The Italian's had predicted an Earthquake for today,
Well if you are at all propelled by predictions the Spanish got a biggish one today
Although the geographies are way short of scientifically correct (spatially, tectonically speaking between the countries). But my, that was close enough, and the damage, the poor souls, not to mention how it's one month on (11th March) from the Japanese Earthquake.