The July List 2017

The Half Way Through Review 2017

The June List 2017

The May List 2017

It would be wrong to not talk about Manchester. I haven't really talked about it online and I wasn't going to because I know that nothing I can say will make a difference, lost in the sea of voices. But it's been on my mind - all of our minds - so much. May 2017 will always be remembered as a tragedy in this country and a month full of utter heartbreak. To not mention it wouldn't be right.

A struggle I've been having, however, is to know when to carry on, because we do have to carry on in the face of hatred. It's so hard when we want to be sensitive to what's going on and to know the best way to do so. I questioned whether to post this list at all, but if there's anything that the incredible people  of Manchester have shown us in the last week, it's that we do need to carry on. So, here's my May:

• I kicked off the month with an action packed bank holiday Monday of carbooting, a swanky afternoon tea and a friend's birthday dinner. So much food.
• I started wearing contact lenses which aren't half as scary as I thought, it turns out. I'm only an occasional user for now though.
• I voted in the local elections and generally got quite political, as ever. Only a week now until the big day.
• I got last minute tickets to see Rent the Musical and oh me, oh my, I l o v e d it. I wrote more here.
• I celebrated my cats' birthday - obviously. They're 13 now - waat?
• I had a glorious afternoon with friends at a local food festival. Mmmmmm.
• I've got a bit more into exercise: lots more walking, a little more running, and slowly dipping back into swimming on top of yoga. (Who am I?)
• I have spent too much money, resulting in a self-inflicted shopping ban for the next month. Naughty.
• I had three days off of work with fairly few plans. It's been nice to spend time in my own company but I'm looking forward to being busy again. Some days this month have been a little too uneventful.
• I've enjoyed the glorious warmth, despite working in an office that is practically a greenhouse (!)
• I had some wicked finds at a vintage fair, although this didn't help with the aforementioned spending ban.

xxxxxxx

525, 600 Minutes: the Difference a Year Makes

I went to see Rent last weekend. It was a very last minute arrangement but I'm so glad I went - seven days later and it's still on my mind. I knew very little of the story or songs before I went, other than the seminal "Seasons of Love" - that song holds a very special place in my heart.

I was a major theatre kid when I was at school, only ever in the ensemble but still very much a member of the Music Dep. family. When I look back on my time at school, it's the hours spent in the rehearsal rooms and on the stage that immediately come to mind.

The April List 2017

Notes on Walking

The sound of footsteps on pavement in the gaps between the tracks. Realising that you probably needed a coat and realising how much you like your own company.

That time in the evening with the moon on your right and the sun on your left. When I walk past the spilling out pub garden on a Friday night and know that I am just as happy as they are with one foot in front of the other.

When I take in the fresh air, this new and strange relationship I have with breathing. Thoughts come with the rhythm of my feet and my pauses to watch the water lap. Sentences dance in and out of the brain, catching you out and lingering a while.

Let's put these words in order.

Thinking don't play your heartbreak songs, thinking it's too late for fallen leaves. New shoes aren't on my side. Switch off, give it time.

The little people with their lights on, within entire worlds of their own behind brick and glass.

Smiling at strangers like you're one of the gang. Knowing when to let them pass and when to take the lead. Hello to the dog that's slightly over friendly and hello to the one that lacks interest.

You, smoking a cigarette. Me, never held a cigarette. You in my mind and me on my own, walking.

Tears on a face or smiles that creep then grow, remembering the nicer bits of the day gone by. Solitude, my own company with the memory of earlier on. The tickle in your tummy as you think of eyes and laughter. Walking on through it all - that's what walking does.

Taking it slow, slower. We're not the serious sort with our shoe laces tucked in. We, me. Me and the steps, one by one. Left right left right left right, I wander.

It gets so lonely, when you're walking and the streets are full of strangers, Joni said. Maybe I like alone too much for us? But lonely and alone are different, Joni. I don't like lonely so much.

Will you take me as I am?

The day ending, the journey back home, the stream that follows you back and chases you around until the next time everything's back together again.

A favourite part of the day, a favourite place out of home and knowing that it's the solution. Walking is therapy, is medicine, is sanctuary.