I don't seem to have done very much since I got back, my suitcase is still not quite empty but it will be soon, and put away.
Yesterday, Sunday, I went to Emmanuel then to lunch at a Mexican restaurant with Bruce and Rosalyn. They have just booked a vegan trip to California, asked if I'd like to go (but I think they knew the answer) The mere notion of it would send me running to the medium rare steaks at the Golden Corral.
I am getting through the books I bought at the airport with my leftover currency. One is on Emotional Intelligence, a subject I was introduced to when studying pastoral care at Chichester. At the time I was working at the Nuffield Hospital and it was a revelation to me to discover that one of the consultant radiologists, a highly successful, middle aged man, had the emotional maturity of a stroppy teenager. Since then - when people watching - I've sometimes noticed the disconnection between chronological and emotional age. I'd like to think it has made me more emotionally mature, but I'm not sure if it has.
The other books were by Bill Bryson, a favourite travel writer. And Sophie Kinsella, a writer of very light fiction.
I am just getting into the day and need to ring the dentist shortly to confirm the time of my appointment today.
No comments:
Post a Comment