... musing on a dark night in Kendal on the way home
I do love blip ... the things it sets off....
As I walked back to the car this evening it was wet and windy but I was looking out for interest on my way and I was following these three girls for some time. They were bouncing along chattering away non-stop to each other. At first I was just wanting to get past and on my way over windy Shap summit and home but our pace was similar and in the end I fell back a little. I realised that I must have looked like a rather worn out world-weary bent over Lowry-like figure emerging from the factory gates, body aching and with just about enough energy to get to the car. I wondered at the contrast between us and of their skipping excited short steps full of their excitement of an afternoon spent in town and all their energy and enthusiasm. I wanted to take a photo but didn't want to seem odd overtly taking photos of girls on a dark night so I took this from the hip as they say (the other one managed to be a blurry one of the street light!). I was delighted to notice them and capture their moment of energy and I found myself wondering just when exactly I became an old fogey!
There must have been something in the air today. Earlier I had been struck by how my computer wire was swinging across the room as my manager was saying something about targets. It reminded me of a skipping rope and the school yard and playing sevens with a tennis ball. I saw the wall and could see myself clap and spin in between throws. My eye could still see the colour of the red brick and the mortar. I thought of my husband (he didn't skip as far as I know). What a strange thing our brains are. It's not that targets aren't interesting, of course not.
And then there was more talk on the radio as I headed home about planning for death. Yesterday it was advance directives and I feel I really need to start sorting something out on that score. Today it was about the cost of funerals and I was so glad we had done his without any funeral directors, just as independently as we had completely done our own wedding. At these times we are so shell-shocked we can fall in to following the norm. Don't let anyone tell you that you need to have funeral directors if you don't want to use them.