annanotbob2's Diaryland
Diary
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Afternoon in the museum
7/1/24
I met my pal B this afternoon, in the museum where I used to go to the Friday art group, supposedly to do some art in the café, but we mainly just sat and chatted. It was odd being there on a Sunday with different staff on duty to the Friday ones I know - I was just any old person coming in, not a regular, familiar friend. I hadn’t been there since last July when we finished for the summer term, supposedly going back in September, but it’s been postponed and postponed and probably won’t return. New manager thinks the art groups are a misuse of limited funds, that if they want to offer something for people with mental health problems it should be more open rather than just these two groups with a limited number of regular attenders. Meh. As far as mental health goes I’m in the ‘high functioning’ category, though still with a head full of shit half the time, but the others who came, were not and this was a lovely safe space for us all. I hope we can get back there.
The museum is in an old building, probably Georgian, with high ceilings, wooden floors, tall windows. The part where we sat, the café, is in a room that used to house a big display of old ceramics, most of which are gone but the walls are lined with glass-fronted cabinets full of ornate antique teapots, jugs and plates. At one end is the counter with a big espresso machine and a selection of cakes, served by N, a long-haired, friendly guy who gave up a boring job to concentrate on his art, funded by working here part time. The tables are all different, old wooden ones, not antique-fancy, just battered old pine tables that have been acquired for the café, along with chairs of varying styles and heights. On one table is a big basket of wool with a stripy scarf that you are invited to add a few rows to, if you wish. It was nice. The smell of the coffee, the hiss of the machine, a hum of chat. Sitting there, fiddling about, half-drawing some mackerel, watching people coming and going. Lots of dads and kids – I always wonder if these are separated dads who see the kids on Sundays and need somewhere warm to take them, or if they’re just dads, dadding about, fetching up in there cos the kids like it, which they do.
After that we walked by the river in the bitter cold. Probably not quite freezing but a brisk north wind made it feel like it. I was a bit pissed off to not be able to swim – in the morning the sun was out and that north wind makes for a flat sea but B had said she def didn’t want to swim and I’d made a date to meet her so I turned up and didn’t moan at all or even mention it. I haven’t been in the sea since Tuesday – I start to hanker after a dip when it goes this long – the last thing I expected to happen. I still haven’t got a system worked out for how to get dressed quickly after a swim. You have to be quick – cold air on wet skin is a fast route to hypothermia. Last winter I had a camping chair which made it easier though it was a faff carrying it around. Bloke broke it at Womad and left it behind – I could get another one – they’re probably cheap in January – yeah, £13 in Argos. My balance just isn’t up to me standing on shingle getting quickly in and out of trousers and boots, and I’m not great at getting up if I sit right down. Sorted though, I’ll get a chair tomorrow.
12:10 a.m. - 08.01.24
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