And suddenly I have followers, so how can I not write? Today, a funeral, for a lovely woman whose wedding I only attended last August. No warning, just gone, leaving a partner and two of the youngest children. Two coachloads of Metropolitan police folk at the ceremony, and glasses raised in L's memory at the Tivoli Ballroom, all 1920's red plush velvet glamour, scene of past splendours.
So, no, I haven't given any thought to tomorrow's check up, and next Monday's, and next Wednesday's. I'm back in the world of work now, no more space for illness. And I feel absolutely fine. Mind you, I am seeing that incredibly stupid (well, tactless, no, daft) woman tomorrow. I keep waiting for someone else to enter, stage left, and move her to one side, "Did we have you fooled there? Time for the real doctor to take over now". Will take Sudoku, the Daily Telegraph, Elizabeth Gaskell and the ipod. That, and a morning at work, should keep my mind off it.
1 comment:
You always have beautiful photos and this is another one - and very appropriate too - an arch defining a route, leading somewhere, often built as memorials.
And a wake in a theatre - way to go! In cemetery parlance, a gravestone of a snapped column signifies a life cut short. There is a whole language of stonemasonry. I love sub-cultures.
Hopefully your gruff medico meets the common profile of: 'knowledge in inverse proportion to bedside manner'.
Rock ON.
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