Tuesday, 19 August 2008
Berrys on the way home
The weekend went by quickly enough. Sunday was lazy and the part that stands out most was getting on a bicycle again after fifteen years. The last time I was on a bike I rode it into a wall, landed on the bar in the middle and did myself some damage. Thankfully there was no such repeat. I tried to teach Leanne to ride too; we took the bike around a small circle where we couldn’t be seen and I held on to the handle bars while she pedalled.
Yesterday I walked an hour to the city centre to save myself £1.60 in bus fair. By the time I got there, however, I wished I had caught the bus and was convinced that I’d need a hip replacement later in the day. At least I felt more justified in eating the Twix. I registered with some agencies and it took me the whole day to fill in forms, complete tests and be interviewed. Today it was much of the same thing. I rushed home earlier though because I was eager to finish watching Gregory Peck in the 1962 ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ film. What a wonderful black and white version of Harper Lees book!
Every night has been filled with the most dramatic and crazy dreams. I don’t know where they are coming from. I’m trying to be content in the small things that usually make me happy – flowers along the red way, people out walking their dogs, young pretty people, e-mails from home, remembering the farm and childhood, good-looking and cheap clothing, Disney movies and songs…but nothing really means anything when you’re looking at things with a broken heart. And I can’t trust myself.