The sun is shining for the third day running today and it ought to be lifting my spirits but I feel full of nameless dread at the the prospect of the impending move to the bloomin bungalow. I am wishing I had never embarked on such a foolhardy plan. It is like someone wondering if they will make a run for it on their wedding day leaving all the guests waiting at the church. Can I at this stage back out? But then, when I crawl painfully up and down the stairs with my creaking knees and watch and hear the ceaseless roar of traffic outside this cottage, I remember why I decided to move, so I suppose I will go ahead.
Otherwise Ditchling life goes on, with good films in the Village Hall ,Benda Billilili last week which was about a group of Congolese disabled musicians who made good, my three walks a day with B. Wiggins in the lovely countryside, and various Quaker activities at Ditchling and Brighton
Caroline Lucas, the Green Party MP for Brighton addressed the Quaker Socialist Society at Brighton last week and sh was such a breath of fresh air, especially in the midst of all the hype over the Thatcher funeral. She seemed like the `still small voice of calm` Such a good speaker and she dealt so well with a tricky bloke who came in spoiling for a fight.
I always get excited by the London Marathon. I cannot imagine how they do it, though I heard someone on the radio say that you don`t run a Marathon with your legs but with your head.
One good thing: I have replaced the rust bucket with a similar model but with no bumps or scratches or gaffer tape keeping the bumper on. I was driven to it by a slipping clutch which could not quite make it over the Beacon.