People

\\\* Second week since I’ve restarted these, and the first in which I have been trying to keep a log in my notebook through the week. Here goes: Several times over the last seven days I’ve managed to bust out several good runs ranging from 5 to 10km. Given a mere three years ago, I could hardly complete 2.5km in a go, going the distances I now can is something to be grateful for. Meetups with people I have known through work dominated my social life this past week. First off was a catch up with R who I shared an office with when I first joined my current company back in 2011 and who I have stayed friends with. I have him to thank for making the effort to draw me out from the shy, reserved, headphones-in-my-ears-all-the-time guy I was when I joined. The other meetup was with M, at a Nigerian eatery in town. He managed the pepper OK, and we have notionally agreed to do this every quarter, if we can. The other big catchup was with S, whom I hadn’t spoken to in quite some time. It is always amazing to catch up with someone I haven’t in a while and then the conversation just seems to continue from where it stops. Grateful for friends! My relationship with my local church (and the big C church to be honest) isn’t the greatest at all. Having managed to drag myself there last Sunday, quite a few things said seem to hit right home and capture the moment where I am at the moment.

All it takes is an extended patch of wet and cold weather for things to descend into chaos on these islands, this latest batch of snow, heavy winds and cold weather culminating in flight cancellations and severe weather warnings amongst others. For the most part, I manage to survive - extra warm clothing, walking gingerly to and from work in the wet slush and almost continuous heating being the sum of the adjustments I have to make. It is at the weekend when the rooster comes home to roost in a manner of speaking. Having turned up at the airport for my 8.20pm flight down to Heathrow, delays till almost 11 pm are announced until at a few minutes before midnight we are advised the flight has been cancelled. Remarkably, everyone who should be on our flight is remarkably sanguine about it all, helped I suspect by the sense that the weather ‘gods’ have been at it again. Between the final announcement of delays and the flight being cancelled, we find (from Flight radar) that the ‘plane designated to carry us away to London has made several attempts to land at the ‘Deen but has failed due to fog rolling in. They eventually get diverted to Glasgow whilst we make an orderly line at the front desk to get our flights rebooked. I move my flight by a week and then head home, not before I find out that the woman in front of me in the queue has family in the same area of Surrey that I’m headed to, and very much like me, she makes this trip every two weeks so. Joking about being four-day spouses, does have a ring of truth to it though. For me, it offers evidence that this thing - having a foot in two different countries - isn’t exactly impossible to maintain, mild weather-induced irritation notwithstanding. ...

Between a dull headache, rheumy eyes, a rasping cough and my –at the best of times – dodgy night time vision, I suppose it was inevitable that I would ride shotgun for most of our time in Benidorm. Inevitable or not, that did little to settle the simmering discontent that gnawed at my insides each time we had to hop into the car and go somewhere. To compensate I offered directions, commented on lane switches and approaches to roundabouts and generally made myself as obnoxious as possible, particularly when other road users came close enough to see me sat in the other, non-driving seat. In my mind, that (ultimately useless endeavour) made it seem to others that I was in control, orchestrating things from behind the scene rather than being the mere passenger I was. Patriarchal tropes and stereotypes aside, it offered a front row seat from which to observe first-hand all the little discourtesies female drivers endure on the roads. Away from the immediacy of the moment, memories of Adam Gopnik’s New Yorker piece on the subject of learning to drive came to mind. Not that the fact that other men, far more intelligent than I, have struggled with this absolves me of blame here. ...

For Day 19 of The Art of Manliness Journaling Prompts – The one romantic relationship I am in is with S, my wife of just over a year. As highlighted in my response to the Day 5 prompt, it has hardly being the smoothest of relationships, not helped by living apart and both being very busy people. The one area I’d like to improve is improving the quality of our relationship primarily from the perspective of making clear to her that she is the priority in my life and that every other thing including work and sustenance lies in second place. To achieve this my intention is to communicate better with her, making the effort to stay in touch on a daily basis regardless of what pressures work and life pose. Fingers crossed.

Photo by John Price on Unsplash Three things over the weekend brought into relief why my relationship with church can sometimes feel conflicted; swinging from the deeply emotive to the somewhat irritating over the course of a few days. First off was a truly immersive worship experience on Sunday morning, one in which the songs seemed God-sent especially for me, particularly Jaye Thomas’We Wait For You which is one of my favourites. Off the back of that, I went home and binged on worship music on Spotify. ...

Source: Chobir Dokan For the prompt: Lovingly The glint in her eye Belies the set of her jaw Lovingly, she leaves

Chilli flavoured plantain chips Peri-peri chicken (having a cheeky Nandos is a thing, you know) The scent of warm waffles Friday nights (the prelude to the only truly quiet times I have) Catch up TV (for how easy it makes indulging my fascination with Leroy Jethro Gibbs) Postcards (sending and receiving them) Running into old friends in the most unlikely of places. When a shuffled playlist throws up a particularly apt song Early morning runs by the beach Scoring a late (winning) goal in Football Manager

… For the flight to Manchester that will leads to a train to Sheffield and then a weekend of meeting S.’s folk…. Then the Wait, actively I suppose, for time and life to work its magic and meld these two journeys — separate, distinct but converging — into a coherent whole… #Hopeful

Source: Wallpaper.com I come upon them suddenly as I emerge from the arch on Peacock’s Close onto the parking lot. I have my headphones in as always, humming under my breath as I drag myself home, the combination of the low light , my tiredness and that they have their backs to the road being the reasons why we startle each other. What becomes obvious when I eventually take in the scene is that they — a woman and a girl I can only assume are mother and child — have been taking turns at blowing bubbles and squealing in delight as the light wind drives them away towards the road. ...

Love God. Love People. The End