Illness has finally descended upon me. Nevertheless, bravely I soldier on, making the train journey to Norwich for a day of hairdressing and parents. Apologies to those sitting around me for profuse flu-sweats resulting in my need to strip down to the bare bones (I want, at this point to liken myself to a woman suffering from the menopause, but I fear it may be rather insensitive, so make whatever association you wish, so long as it’s not too profane)! Seeking a silver lining as always, my keeping tissues visible alongside other tell-tale signs of a cold is meaning that I have four seats to myself around a table... aaaaand ssstttretchhhh...
Armed with teabags to add to free hot water (I LOVE THE CAFBAR SERVICE), a bottle of Fiji, Vogue Magazine, new music and my notebook, I feel more than ready for what promises to be a perfectly pleasant journey (I may have spoken too soon, the Von Trapp family out on a half term day-trip have just landed to destroy my peace!!).
Despite suffering from the plague, half term has been exactly what half term should be; down-time. In six days I have
spent Valentines the way tradition has dictated it must be spent,
attended a party with jazz band, vintage costume and a guest list,
visited the Tate Modern,
reverted to my 17-year-old self and more,
seen the view of London from Alexandra Palace,
lurked outside my original London home with visions of little Laura on the doorstep playing with Polly Pockets as the removal men hauled boxes to the lorry over my head,
had many a moment of music discovery and re-discovery,
finally got internet installed (to assist in music discovery),
bought a vacuum cleaner (this is TOO exciting for words),
eaten good food,
consumed endless cups of tea,
and slowly, but surely, have prepared for the run-up to Easter (not that I’m counting down to the next one already. I am. But perhaps that’s mainly because it’s the birthday countdown and I LOVE birthdays!)
all with some of my most favourite people.
(Looking at that list, I do wonder whether it’s a little unsurprising that my nose feels about four times its natural size – this is what my days look like when I’m ‘taking it easy’?)
I return to writing this on the last night of the half term, having spent two days giving recovery a better go (between making an appearance at a party on/in/at (?) Kensington Roof Gardens and drinking mocktails in Shoreditch). It’s always nice to write upon reflection, as although I have spent the week feeling rather sorry for myself, I have been very fortunate in spending time doing things I love with people I love spending time with.