Goodwood

Goodwood

Sunday, 8 July 2012

Trying to get some perspective.

It was an odd night last night… I left a friends house late, and came home glad to crawl into my bed, with the intention of falling fast asleep. But sleep eluded me. Frantic phone calls occurred in the wee small hours. A crying hysterical friend on other end… her adorable kitten was lost, presumed escaped as I had left the house!

It’s strange but I was certain the kitten was quietly ensconced somewhere in the house, curled up fast asleep doing what I wanted to achieve. Oblivious of the wailing and desperation. It was a dirty night, sodden rain water logged roads and dark out here in the sticks.

I tried to pacify my friend. I tried to sleep. I failed on both scores here. The kitten turned up safe and sound some hours later, the text came in at 6.34am. I was relieved. I was dog tired. I’m not grumpy today, just slow; everything seems to be an effort.

The rain woke me up eventually. It’s a familiar sound. And now there is a tiny patch of blue sky.

Today is a good day.

My sister made it home safely from Torquay with my nieces yesterday even though it took twelve hours, crammed in the car, instead of a probable 5 hour journey. They had to find alternative routes that weren’t water logged.

The kitten was not lost and my friend has rung to apologize for her frantic calls.

I wasn’t one of the unfortunate spectators, standing in a water logged field watching their hero or hero’s race at frantic speeds on a water logged track at Silverstone and I wasn’t stuck under an umbrella on Henmans Hill!

Because this weekend promises to be an interesting sporting event. Rain may stop play but there again…

My home hasn’t been consumed by fire like the people in Colorado who only have ashes and burnt timbers of their once beautiful homes and I didn’t die in my bed like those poor people in Russia, when the flash flood waters rose in the night as they slept.

I’m not a refugee living under a piece of canvas in a swamp infested region in Sudan fleeing for my life and there have been many floods in Bangladesh that have surpassed anything we might have suffered in the UK. A quarter of a million people were displaced here, with 800 of them losing their lives.

My heart goes out to anyone who has been flooded out… whether it’s their home or their business premises. It must be stressful. It can’t be fun.

This summer is a wash out so far.

We did have some gorgeousness in March, remember? A distant memory now and from today forwards I’m going to do my best to ignore the weather, wear layers that can be added and removed and just get on with having a good time.

I suggest we do what we do best – apply the stiff British upper lip – because truly it could be worse. And where we can offer support. Financial or other.

And I’m going to put my feet up. Switch on the telly. Fix my lunch and watch some great British sport, thankful that I can participate as a spectator, even if it is only from my armchair.

And I hope the summer weather improves across the globe.

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