Driving to a workshop in Middlesborough on Friday on flooded roads – raining all the way there and all the way back it was difficult not to think of Agde and the hot sun of the south. It was difficult not to wish myself back there, sat at the cafe Plaza drinking iced coffee, especialy after the week I’d had.
Life has not been kind this week – that’s how it sometimes goes – life gets you by the throat and squeezes hard – days later you are still gasping for breath and having finally come down from the adrenalin high are left dazed and exhausted. That’s how it’s been in our house. Enough said. I’m planning on this week being better (it can’t be worse) but as my writing buddy Wendy always says – ‘it’s all good copy.’ Everything that happens to a writer is stored up and used, in disguise of course, in future writings. Nothing is wasted.
But despite it all there are good things: England going great guns in the Ashes, laughter despite everything, the cows outside the window in the long buttercup strewn grass…
Avril
The journey in the slashing rain left us frustrated to the point of hysteria. You were the mistress of dogged calm driving with water halfway up the wheels. It made me think of ‘les inondations’ in Agde which more than once in history have drowned the city. But they have the compensations of sunshine, of course. And there are storms nearer to home that we have to survive. But, as we survivie all this, as you say the experience is banked up somewhere inside to be transformed into insight and empathty whish will take our wriiting up a peg or two.
And here is another week. And mild northern sunshine. Things look much brighter.
wx