I have to admit that Cher is one of my least favourite singers – I spent an inordinate amount of time in 1998 reaching for my radio’s OFF button whenever ‘Believe’ assaulted my senses (number 2 in my Top 10 most hated songs, behind ‘Grandma we love you’), but she popped in to my head when I started to think about this blog. June has been bursting with reunions, meeting friends I’ve not seen for 30 years or more. I almost felt that ‘I could turn back time’.
I’m getting ahead of myself – much of this was in the second half of the month and, whilst work has been a little quieter than of late, I have achieved a long-held goal…. I can insert AND remove (the latter was even more alarming) a contact lens. Having sporadically and unsuccessfully attempted to do this for the last 12 months, I met the very patient Jack who got me through… now I just need to work out where my legs are, on the basis that I only put a lens in one eye (so I can do computer work, whilst the other remains great on long distance)… it is still a little disorientating. So if I LOOK drunk, of course I am NOT (although I wouldn’t be able to pass the Man With Two Brains Drunk Test, with or without said lens).
So, one life-goal achieved it was time for another – a trip to Shakespeare’s Globe. Sadly my companion for Romeo & Juliet was poorly, but heartlessly it didn’t stop me loving it (Shakespeare does it for me every time). I actually fell back in love with London, which I never expected to say… walking along the Thames, round St Paul’s, over the Millennium Bridge, on a perfect sunny summer’s day. The play itself was beyond brilliant and the building lived up to all my expectations which, let’s face it, is rare. I even managed to tie in tapas with Louise (of broken back fame – previous blog) and her daughters.
It was also the time of year when I had to do an hour’s flight with an instructor (makes sure we don’t pick up bad habits). Despite having been an instructor for the best part of 10 years I still suffer from ‘instructoritis’, but Howard is a legend and I had huge fun running through all the emergencies, forced landings etc. Always good to practise those, and seemingly I’m ‘the full package’ as a pilot – I think that was a compliment!
Work was all about Blaston Show, which was as good as ever. I’d spent the previous night with the lovely Jackson family, tagging along to a local 40th birthday party. With a big day and early start looming I was walked home ahead of Ben, Kit and ‘dancing queen’ Hellen by the youngest – Felix – who escorted me safely through a large graveyard as the most direct route.
Not only was Blaston Show fabulous, it was bursting with old and lost friends – one so ‘lost’ that at first he didn’t recognise me – until I muttered ‘dinner party, the Bartons, Shrewton, late 1980s’… yep, it was that memorable! I love that, with all of them, 10 seconds after recognition the years melted away – the same can be said of finally catching up with the White Rabbit interloper… I’m not a Whovian (fan of Dr Who) but time travel is a wonderful and mysterious thing. Actually, I’m being serious, the concept of ‘time’ is my latest investigative project…
So the month ended well. Steve, the mole catcher, lived up to his reputation – there was a trebling of mole hills within 12 hours of Leigh setting a trap, talk about flicking the Vs, and my nephew Tom and his partner came to stay last weekend, the first time the three of us have ever been together unrelated to someone dying. Seriously restorative.