2024: Hello, how are you doing?
Your turn.
I’m not going to manage it. Not this week. I’ve been banging out my diary every Sunday for the last year. It’s nearly finished, and I’ll be glad when it is. You too, I expect. Usually, typing up and commenting has been a very last minute thing, but somehow I’ve managed. This week has caught up wth me, and I’m not going to get it posted. Sundays is a purely self-imposed deadline that no one but me cares about, so I’m gonna be all free and easy and break it. Too much work and family commitments, the usual. Well, I was in Madrid on Monday and Tuesday, to do just 90 minutes of communications coaching, and as you receive this I’ll be flying to Milan for a day of training work this Monday. In between that there was saying goodbye to Dad’s body at the undertakers’ on Thursday ahead of his funeral next week. Glad we did that, it’s not always a thing to do in this country. His face wasn’t at all pale and pasty. His full-blooded (un-made up) cheeks were a bit of a surprise to be honest, and the sense of a strong, very much not frail body made it look as if he were just sleeping and would be woken by our talk, even nearly three weeks on. An image I’ll remember positively and with emotion. In such times one appreciates a good undertaker.
I’ll catch up with ‘1984’ later this week. But for now maybe you can just step in for me. I’d dearly love it if you could post a comment and say hi.
Where are you? What are you thinking about right now? What music are you listening to these days? What are you reading? What do you do in life? What does 1984, or your teenage, mean to you? Anything really. A couple of words. Would love to hear from you. Thank you, danke, merci, teşekkür ederim.
You are all lovely. Greetings from Milan. I don't recommend Lime bikes on these cobbled streets. There are so many amazing connections even in your disparate replies. Katya mentioning Gerry Rafferty on that day in '84 and bro Jim Rafferty chipping in here too. Katya your diary sounds much more worldly wise. Wendy, did you ever write about Gerry? Ok your mag was Just 17, maybe not his audience, but Baker Street was so massive! Garth is a music writer too. Tony, Katya and I were in Berlin for the fall of the wall too. Would love to see your pics. Will send mine. Chaz, camping by the river at the bottom of your lane, and falling in with. The whole night hikes thing we got into was probably quite a lot my dad's influence. And yeah Piltdown... Oct 83? Specifically the teeing off square on the golf course. Fucking freezing. Frankie, "Wayward, unsettled. Some things don't change." Um, yep. And Garth, the most widely listening person I know music wise, maybe apart from Tony, so in '84 Reagan was elected. Now Trump, and we're gonna be unsettled for quite a few years. Economy of course, and encouragement to nationalists, but above all environmentally...
Condolences, Baz. I didn’t know John nearly as well as I know Helga. My main memories are of a funny, eccentric scout leader with whom we walked from Speldurst to Chiddingstone, one wettish summer, to camp by the river Eden near Somerden. I remember getting wet legs walking through the long grass, then marvelling at how my trousers dried as we continued our scout march. I always remember that walk when I get wet legs on a walk. A bit like how I remember camping on Piltdown golf course when there’s a hard frost.
You asked what your readers are doing… my day consisted of church (yes, church. Remembrance Sunday hosted by our rather amazing vicar, Canon John.) Then I made a raised bed to add to our collection of raised beds, cut the grass and am now awaiting friends’ arrival from Wales. Venison chilli and butternut curry. I’ll raise a glass of red to you all, and, of course, to John.
All the best. Love to the family.