DVT DAY 94

Well I finally drag my arse out of bed to cook egg sandwiches and coffee to wash my drugs down. Ritual over I checked e-mails and messages, before I get myself off to the shed. I spent ages trying to track down a reference to a piece of work that I have been using in presentations. It’s come to the time that I need the original paper and of course I find that the authors have moved on from the company that they worked for at the time. Finding myself at a dead end I wrote a quick poem and went back to the house to take part in an Open Forum for therapeutic community staff and people interested in them. What evolved in the discussion was people’s responses to the recent death of the black guy in America. It is an unfortunate but painful truth that therapeutic communities in the prison system are not immune from racism. Once we were through the forum I returned to the shed to continue work noting some of the new flowers that have come into bloom.

A letter from Scotland arrived to distract me, which was lovely. Before I knew it I was being asked if I want to feed the ducks in the local park, an opportunity not to be missed. So an unexpected outing with my partner and eldest daughter to hurl old bread at the, ducks, moorhens and coots that could be arsed to swim across the pond. It was fun and I admit I needed the change of environment as I have been feeling flat for a couple of days.

We retuned home to find the album from our civil partnership ceremony had been delivered. Dinner, the great British sewing bee and an inspired internet search of the internet for sewing paraphernalia. Now it’s time to sleep and prepare for my early morning meeting.