Tuesday, 21 January 2014


There's a world within me that I cannot explain. Many rooms to explore, but the doors look the same. I am lost. I can't even remember my name
Within - Daft Punk

T is for tree, of course

I went to Bedgebury Pinetum on Saturday, with friends. While the children foraged for stick-men, my mind kept drawing me backwards.

I've been there just once before, 74 weeks previously, on 19th August 2012. The previous occasion was at the end of my first week of chemo, and at the height of the symptoms of my myeloma. It was probably the lowest moment of my life.

We had gone for a weekend away taking our bicycles with us. But I was in no fit state to hold a bike, let alone ride one. I could barely walk. Marisa, reading this, will feel bad that we went away that weekend at all. You shouldn't, honey. The intention was right. The children enjoyed it. I'm glad we went. I was destined to feel dreadful, wherever I was.

What surprised me last weekend – apart from an unwelcome sense of "nostalgia" (if it can be called that), was quite how vague my memories of the place were. It was only when I saw it again that I had any real recollections at all. In some respects the summer and autumn of 2012 is still very vivid for me. But in other ways, fortunately, it is remarkably hazy.

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