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It’s all very well standing on the deck of a ship at anchor on a fine day. Just imagine having to climb up to the crow’s nest in a gale, as the horizon does acrobatics, and waves crash over the side.


‘…a grey cloud from the east…’

Bring a grey cloud from the east,
Where the lark is singing;
Something of the song at least,
Unlost in the bringing:
That shall be a morning chair,
Poet-dream may sit in,
When it leans out on the air,
Unrhymed and unwritten.

From ‘The House of Clouds’ by Elizabeth Barrett Browning


I guess only a sailor would really know the meaning of that phrase where “moods change like the wind”.  One moment you’re whipping along on the crest of a wave with the wind in your sails, the next you’re stuck in the doldrums.  I’m not a sailor but I know how to ride my moods after 40 years of practice.  The answer is to let them float along with you, like one of those big boats with a small dinghy tied onto the back.  Sometimes you can be effusive, holding forth and riding high on the big poop deck, then other times it’s best to get in the dinghy, hunker down and wait for the weather to turn.  Which it always does.  Which is what I tell myself when I feel frantic or desperate, or if I am living life inside out with all my nerve endings hanging out in the elements.

So tonight, after a day to be survived and negotiated and a little bit endured, it was rather nice to water the plants with the decadence of a garden hose in the near darkness with a glass of Prosecco saved for after teaching the evening class (and the 3 and a half hour morning class) and the bid writing and other tasks in between.

Oh and to read my email and find that my weekend long battle with Betfair has ended with the winner declared as ME!  Proof of which is that, despite their lousy Terms & Conditions, my account has been credited with a lost multiple stake. 

Life can always be sweet if you hang in there, but always read the small print 😉