Long weekend

I'd really hoped to do something with this bank holiday weekend, but any ideas I dreamt up seemed to be knocked on the head as soon as I explored them. Either friends were busy, places weren't open... Whatever it was, signs (call it what you will), were telling me that maybe I should grind to a halt for a change. It's easy to get carried along by the speed of life; that when you get a long weekend you have to immediately seize upon it and plan something big and meaningful to do with the time.

There's no harm in stopping and looking around every so often.

Trees are budding, bees emerging, swallows returning, barbeques lighting - all to the soundtrack of laughter and lawnmowers. Yes, it's a typically British spring. Or is it? Where's the rain, come to think of it?

No big dramas unfolding or threatening.

Just the unspectacular status quo.

Life is good.

I think.

Disturbs me a little when things are going good, you deliberately go looking for problems. Like sitting in a comfortable chair for the first time; you rock it a little and check the legs to see if it'll really hold you before settling into it.

After fifteen months I'm awaiting a letter from the Police in the next few weeks to give me the go/no for June. Everything's poised, ready to kick the next stage of my life into gear.

I think?

Busy drumming fingers on the table.

This silence is way too loud.

Someone please turn it down.