Friday rolls up and I am still unsure where I am in my head but I know today I shall be seeing a friend for coffee. I have toast and meds and get ready to go out. My partner is also seeing a friend today so I guess we are both taking the opportunity to talk to as many people as possible during this thinking time. I drive off to see my friend who takes me to our usual coffee place. It is pouring with rain and we hunker down in a booth. The place is packed despite the terrible weather. As I am hungry I eat an eggs Benedict but this version is served on a croissant rather than a bagel, I do not recommend it. My friend and I talk for a long time, long enough to have another drink and chocolate cake. Its useful to talk about my situation and then about unrelated things then returning to the tricky stuff. All this time is continues to pour with rain.

Eventually I get tired and my friend drives me back to her house where I pick up Elsie, the car, and drive home. Once home I settle into an evening of the Night Manager. At the end of the evening I take my meds and go to bed still no wiser about what to choose but clearer about the process I need.

Saturday, and it is a poetry Stanza day. It clashes with some tasty rugby matches, so I set the laptops up in the office so I can keep track of the scores and get a glimpse of the England v New Zealand match. I had submitted a neutral poem deliberately as I am not ready to share the poems that accompany my current Sticky Wicket situation.

457
Jim Harrison has me in one:
“an average poem destined
to disappear among the millions
of poems written now by 
mortally average poets”
as he weaves spellbinding
accounts of nature 
and its profusion in 
a way far beyond me.
Some have the gift, 
some read and wonder
and some blunder about
unseeing.
The one eyed man 
sees so much more
than I.
                                 457 14-08-2025 
                                  	Tim Harrison lost an eye aged 7 when a girl hit him with a                                                       				        broken bottle during an argument. That’s America for you.

There are lots of good poems in this Stanza meeting and I find myself ignoring the rugby and more engaged with the poetry. At the end of meeting I slump into the evening and of course Strictly, I am not sure what the fascination is. With the dancing out of the way my partner and I watch the last episodes of the Night Manager before taking my meds and going to bed. In the gaps between all the activity I sort out my hotel for a visit to York on Monday through to Thursday when I can talk to more people about my situation. After that there will be research and a decision. IN the meantime I try t keep calm and follow the process.

Sunday and its a lazy day, when I am not even going to think about the decisions I have to make and let the whatever is going on in my unconscious to get on with it. After a lazy rising, breakfast and meds my partner and I walk into the village and down to the village hall and the Christmas craft fair. It is a mixed bag of stuff but we do find us some glass things including a miniature to go into our collection.

Once home I once again settle to watch rugby, football and the Strictly results show. As I watch the results unfold I draft the blog and mentally pack for the York trip. It feels as if I am still calming myself down and also drawing up some mental Pros and Cons lists. Each of the options I have will require certain things from me and I think I am beginning to know what they may be. For now I am keeping it simple, now it’s time for food and meds and bed. The Wicket is still Sticky.