annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jan 22nd Did I say that one of my big moments of joy is when my head reaches the yoga mat, as I lie down at the start of a class? There's always a great big sigh then I loosen my shoulders and my jaw, close my eyes and know that I'm in for an hour and a half of forgetting everything. Bloody lovely. That's all really. I have my meeting with the woman from the BBC tomorrow, to discuss this short film she wants to make about funeral costs (and how they've become unaffordable for most people, just when the government have withdrawn financial support). I'm one of the personal stories, set against the background facts and figures and people from the council and the government. I feel anxious about it, in a neurotic, mental health sort of way. As if I'm going to be found out, when I haven't done anything wrong. I just always feel as though I have. It's hard work at the moment, keeping myself halfway steady. Let alone writing about it. But I want to write. I've always stopped when I feel bad, but I want to carry on, even when I don't really know what I want to say. I feel sad that Terry Jones died today, though he was 77, which isn't so bad. He was my favourite Python - hearing his line, "He's not the Messiah, he's a very naughty boy," for the first time, was one of the best ever moments of being at the pictures - the whole place erupted with joy - I couldn't believe how daring and clever and hilarious it was. The Virgin Mandy. Rest in peace, dear Terry Jones and many thanks for all the great laughs. I am grateful for: that moment on the yoga mat, in the yoga studio in the big old converted church; that my ramshackle parcel made it all the way across the sea to Chile; for two lots of invitations today for walks and meals with friends; for a walk on the beach with the dog at low tide in the last of the light - no colours apart from grey and beige, no sounds other than the gulls squawking and the waves plopping, just me and the mad little dog, splashing in the shallows, wagging her tail; for finding the oomph to almost finish Son's tea cosy - I just have to sew it together and make a pom pom. Tomorrow's task - find wool needles, somewhere in that new craft room Night night xx 12:29 a.m. - 23.01.20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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