Saturday and its going to be busy. There is a woman’s world cup football match to watch, money to be got from the ATM and ladders to be held so that the garden guy can cut the hedges. With this accomplished I am free to print out copies of the poems I am taking to the poetry stanza. All goes well and I find myself driving to the Stanza. At the Stanza there are seven of us today and I take the risk of presenting my darker poem about how change in communities and the messages that working class youth get. To my surprise people like it and acknowledge the difficulty of the content. It s a good afternoon of interesting poetry and it feeds my brain. We run over time and because the Quaker room we use is locked up up at five o’clock, we end reading a discussing the last poem in the garden. So British.

I drive home dump my portable office and then go to the village shop for strawberries, bread and of course chocolate. My evening is filed with athletics and football, it is after all a Saturday night. I take my meds, draft the blog and go to bed with a head full ideas and and yearnings. Tomorrow is the final of the women’s world cup. England have the chance to win or to plunge the nation into disappointment. I’m not sure I can take a disappointment at the moment so fingers crossed for a fairy tale end. The same applies to my weekly weigh in and my training session.