Lockdown Diary - Sunday 30th May 2021

I don't know where to begin, so I'll begin later in the day, which will then be the beginning, which then in turn means that I did know where to begin, even though it wasn't actually the beginning. But I guess it sort of is, too. A "friend" (I'm not sure if there's an actual term for the person I was meeting: I guess they are balanced on a knife edge between 'friend' on one side and potentially something more on the other side) and I had arranged to meet for the first time at Savill Gardens in the early afternoon.  (I did stuff in the morning before setting off, but nothing of consequence. That was probably the beginning.)

Given the occasion, I had chosen some suitably striking apparel, shirt-wise, attempting to look reasonably smart, though equally not overdressed for walking through whatever terrain the Queen had laid on for us. Everything polished and buffed up that needed to be polished and buffed for the occasion, I set off in the car.

Well, fuck me! Apparently, and I can only assume as a consequence of the gorgeous weather (and clearly not because of our assignation), every bastard within the M25 had decided to descend on Virginia Water and surrounds, resulting in the place being besieged.  As I queued not to go in the Savill Gardens car park, we hastily arranged to meet outside a derelict pub near Englefield Green in order to decide on plan B.  I got to the pub first and awaited my "friend's" arrival.

First impressions and all that.  To be brutally honest (or should that be frank? Not sure I want to be Frank) given we'd spoken on the phone several times, I already had a bit of an impression, rightly or wrongly, but as one of the carers had said, "you have to meet her", and so there I was stood outside a derelict pub dressed up to the 7 and a halfs.  The first thing I noticed - and I am really trying to avoid being judgemental or harsh, so I am just saying this as it is - is she'd not gone to the same trouble as I had, though that wasn't that much in all honesty.  It appeared like she'd come straight from an allotment having wrestled with carrots, spuds and other vegetables.  I wasn't expecting evening dress, but maybe a little effort, although I guess she may have already formed the same impression of me as I had of her, hence CBA?

She's intimately familiar with the area as it's her manor (not literally - I wasn't meeting a member of the Royal Family!!; nor am I referring to the derelict pub, she's not a vagrant, though she was almost...stop that) and so she suggested we head for Cooper's Hill which is National Trust land near Runnymede. I followed her in my car and we found an almost empty car park where we met, again.

From there we walked to the Air Force memorial at Runnymede which I was pleased to visit and which directly overlooks the reservoirs near Heathrow and the airport itself.  We walked and talked and polite though the conversation was, it was just that: polite conversation.  She is a perfectly pleasant person and I'm sure she is the person for someone, but for me there was no spark.  The trouble is you tend to mirror what you're getting from someone, so I'm sure she could say the same about me - I didn't feel inspired to turn on the charm (assuming that there is some to turn on) either. I guess, in fairness, life has dealt her some tough blows so some of that spark has probably been extinguished by the shit that has happened.  I get that, but the only person that can change that is yourself.  Fucking hell, I have some really dark times and can be a miserable bleeder, but the fire, passion and exuberance that are the core of me still burn on, even though at times I feel like there is only darkness. I don't want to settle for something  workaday and ordinary (and yes, I know that's part of what life serves up, but it doesn't have to be all of it - there have to be those moments when you just want to scream and shout with joy!!)

After a reasonable walk, we returned to the car park and sat in the adjacent park and chatted and drank some water before parting company.  I drove home via Old Windsor (getting a view of the castle down the long walk, or whatever it's called, on the way) and Ascot.

So, you're probably wondering if we'll meet again? Don't know where? Don't know when? Well, I guess we might, though probably not soon. Afterwards I did have the decency to politely say that I didn't think we'd be anything more than friends and she replied she felt the same. Which is at least good. Nothing worse than something one-sided. (Aaaaaaaargggghhhhh! Just let me be)

Whilst all this was going on, son #3 had set off for Oxford to go to a BBQ with his gf and sons 1 and 2 had arranged to go round a friend's house for drinks.

Sons 1 and 2 ate with me, early, and then went out leaving me to wine and music.

Having blasted out the cobwebs with my playlist on random (head's still not up to choosing an album), I headed for bed.

Son #3 got a lift home from Oxford and arrived home whilst I was getting ready for bed

Les Rallizes Denudes / 'Strung Out Deeper Than The Night' / 'Heavier Than  A Death In The Family'

[This came up on random play whilst in the car queueing and it sounded just perfect] 

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