present interval

Today has been glorious, a clear and bright Autumn day after two grey days of rain. So I made the most of it - had breakfast, put a load of washing on the line, rang the Co-op Bank to try to access the Dreamweavers account, rang Steve to tell him I'd failed (so no statement for the bid til he's back from London) and then took off over to the woods at Longleat. I took the dictaphone, and as I walked I listened to what was on the tape already (so I didn't tape over anything I wanted - I'm incredibly anal...)

First came a guided visualisation... very interesting (but I won't say why yet - haven't reached that point in the trek yet!)
Then, the account of my last walk up Golden Cap before going to Nepal (see 'temporal experiment' posted on the 10th Oct 06). Quite bizarre, strolling the lanes to Longleat, listening to that again! The 'twinning' nature of walking while listening to an account of a different walk earlier in the year and therefore being, in my consciousness, in two places at once, gives me an idea for the play...
A bit from Karen's and my walk on Friday the 13th, with a great quote taken from the Roman Fort - a confluence of histories flows to this day. Karen reading a poem, also from the fort, lovely to hear her voice on my solitary meanderings!

The most gorgeous man drove past me as I walked... twice! The second time, he mouthed an exaggerated thank you as I skipped out the way - there's something incredibly sexy about the almost-pursing of the lips the words thank you demand...

Back to the dictaphone to distract me from libidinous musings (although those are perfectly legitimate - I can just substitute Aidan for the anonymous driver of the car, and be Frankie... Particularly as the next dictaphone notes include promptings for Driftwood Mirror!)
First is a reminder to include in my last blog post something on how some of our porters went by mistake to the previous site of the first trek camp, so the porters that were with us had to go back to the point where the bus dropped us off to fetch the rest of our bags... Like I said on the dictaphone, They had to make two journeys - Christ, I was knackeered enough! [after only one]
A rant about listening on Wednesday to Terry Wogan's auction for the Children in Need Appeal, I can't BELIEVE some of the bids!!! Like, twenty thousand pounds, thirty thousand pounds, eleven thousand pounds, ten thousand pounds, eleven and a half thousand pounds - where the f*** do these people get that kind of money? How come they've got that kind of money to donate to charity? What the bloody hell's their income like?

And at last to the things I noted last night in the car. Which took me more or less to exploring the wood close to Gunville Cottage - and puzzlement that I never investigated these woodland trails in the months I lived here with Tania! I guess on my days off, I drove straight to Frome to spend the time with Sheena...

Walking in the wood is absolutely gorgeous. The sunlight through the trees is just beautiful, and walking over the red and russet fallen leaves is great fun as well as stunning visually (although it is a mite 'soft' underfoot!). Coming back, by the edge of the wood, the view out across Frome is amazing. There's even an interesting optical illusion (I'm having camera withdrawals!), which could be useful for the Driftwood Mirror...

It's been a hectic week... I'm pleasantly surprised to find I managed a post on Wednesday - I feel terribly slow in getting my account of the trek up.
Thursday night, Penny had an Ann Summers party (the last mention of Ann Summers attracted no spam, let's hope this one doesn't either) which was a great laugh, and I even managed to buy some useful stuff... not, I hasten to add, anything battery powered (I'm afraid all that just puzzles me).
On Friday, for The People's Hive Open Day at work, I improvised (badly) as I'd had no time to prepare a proper speech... Bit grim - but it wasn't too disastrous... Going to the pub after work with the team was cool - haven't gone for a drink with workmates in YEARS! Shame Laura couldn't make it...
And then on to see David's play at the Alma; getting very wet in my search for cheap and cheerful grub beforehand (I ended up with garlic mushrooms at the Alma - not too pricey) - but not as wet as Jan, who cycled up; she was drenched.
The Voice that Keeps Silent is David's most challenging piece yet; I wish I'd read the bit about 'other' on Theatre West's website before I'd seen it, that would have helped enormously - I came out just very confused...
It was, however, inspirational - not only spurred me on on my journey home to muse a bit further on the novel, but I had an idea for a play... of which I wrote ten pages before retiring to bed (where I didn't sleep until after Ath had gone to work...)

Walking the lanes, thinking about David's play, Steve, and people in Stepping Out makes me smile as I think how Stepping Out has done just that - empowered such a great deal of 'stepping out'; airing painful autobiographical material in performance as well as publication, onto the stage, the training and aftermath of the trek - which is mega stepping out... reminds me that how you interpret your life metaphors is crucial!

That today's post should be headed present time is apt indeed...