Those who know me will testify to my obstinacy. Sometimes this characteristic may have its worth but I would be happy to be less totally resistant to painkillers which, the notes say, cause drowsiness, especially if there has been drink consumed. As for machinery – the leaflet just says, don’t use it.
These potent tablets have absolutely no effect on me, and so arthritic daggers pierce my knees through the dark and early hours. Mornings are a slow process of recovery from the night.
Today, however, there was a lightness in my mood. I usually have to gather myself together before I put on the ‘Today’ programme and prepare Mrs Llew’s toast and marmite. This morning things were different for me.
I remembered some lines by the Russian dissident, Irina Ratushinskaya:
‘Believe me, it was often thus/in solitary cells, on winter nights/A sudden sense of joy and warmth/And a resounding note of love
And then unsleeping, I would know/A huddle by an icy wall/Someone is thinking of me now/Petitioning the Lord for me.’
There is no prison cell but that is how I felt this morning: almost at ease with myself. Thank you, whoever you are.
I had intended to record these thoughts against a setting of my pleasure in a late summer golden dawn. But I’ll leave that for now, even though such moments are getting fewer for all of us.