1March1995

London: 1 March 1995
My dear folks,

Wednesday evening! the end of a mixed kind of day. It started out wet and windy, sufficiently wild to churn the normally placid canal, bouncing the ducks around in the turbulence. I tucked my chin deep into my raincoat collar and pulled my cap low during a brisk canal-side walk to Sainsbury's to stock up on victuals. Then the sun brought himself out for a couple of hours, smiling benignly like some visiting dignitary, a warm and cheering presence and ever so nice. One doesn't take the sun for granted here in Britain, especially in winter when its visits are so rare.

Mavis stretched himself out on the landing in his favourite sunbathing spot and went to sleep. I strode off up the road to the bank - for my second walk of the day. My shadow strode ahead of me, a lithe, athletic alter-ego that would have done a sportsman proud. I wore my 50 years as light as silk. I recalled limping slowly & painfully up the same street to the doctor two years ago, before my back was mended, and gave thanks for modern miracles. I'm not sure that there's a purpose in pain (other than to alert one to a body problem) but it has taught me to be grateful for what I'd long taken for granted. Every now and then, I pinch myself, just to make sure that it's real. It is. And it's great.

To conclude the weather theme, a huge black cloud - reminiscent of a Johburg thunderstorm - is poised menacingly across the western horizon. Rain, sleet and snow are all on the menu tonight as a huge cold front sweeps across the country. I hope only that it's passed by morning when I have to cycle to work. In spite of a plaguey cold/cough (now passing on) I've luxuriated in the time, catching up on all kinds of correspondence and long overdue tasks. I also joined my neighbours for a drink to finalise cat arrangements. They produced a beer (obtained at Sainsbury's) made by the Trappist monks who reside near Herman's village in Holland. It was utterly delicious. I praised it most sincerely & bought them another bottle to replace it. Not cheap but very special.

Determined to get some exercise yesterday (in spite of the lurgy) and anxious to visit the Windows-95 exhibition, I walked 3 miles to Olympia and signed myself in (quite properly) as Secretary of the 90 Shirland Road Management Company. The Microsoft display area was absolutely crowded out and like most of those present, I stood through a 30 minute demonstration of its latest (soon to be released) product. I was most impressed. It's going to make Bill Gates another billion or two. I applied for an early release version, as did most of those around me. I also bought myself a Microsoft ergonomic keyboard, a strange curved creature which takes some getting used to, but which I already vastly prefer to the old one. I took a bus home again, finding a seat and deciding, with the bulky keyboard box on my knees, that I was going to plead my half century and remain seated. My whiskers are white enough to make a convincing case.