Too much on today,
Get up and get on,
Feeling hungry,
That’s unusual,
Is food a distraction?

Have a bowlful of cereal,
Spooning the milk in,
This is meditative,
Is a repetitive eating action stimming?
Is that why I like large bowls of milk soddened flakes,
And munching my way through packets of biscuits,
How important is the texture?
Is dunking park of the stim?

It is a beautiful warm sunny day,
Perfect for a bike ride,
Perhaps some gardening?
But decide on the computer instead.

Working on the company website,
Privacy policy finally in place,
All that formatting a pain,
Making headway with GDPR,
Progress feels good.

Needing a rest,
I have an hour to snooze in.
Do you mind driving to the recycling centre?
And buy some paint stuff on the way back?
We’ve run out of undercoat,
So much for sleep,
Perhaps a coffee instead.

Unexpected meeting in the park,
Anxiety about being late,
Catch-up on news anyway,
Taking early retirement,
Buying flats in Edinburgh,
His confidence and mine,
On opposite ends of the scale.

He’s walking a new dog,
A beautiful slim and shiny red setter,
How long have you had him,
She’s three years old now,
Ok, I’s been a while,
Since I’ve visited then.

Arrive at the venue,
Tripod over my shoulder,
Two cameras in my rucksack,
I should be late,
But I am not,
The first part is running over,
Then gets extended,
But I can’t stay any later,
I have a train to catch,
Bet the organizer hasn’t realised.

Whilst waiting I learn,
My son was out playing board games,
With a friend and his family,
Helping to celebrate,
A twenty-first birthday,
Last night.

I’ve set one camera up,
On a tripod,
Precariously balanced,
On a table,
Then go outside to buy something to eat,
There are lots of stalls,
On the High Street,
Selling continental favourites,
At extortionate prices,
I head to the supermarket,
Partly because I am a cheapskate,
Partly because I’ve eaten,
Most of these foods,
In their home countries,
Where I suspect it tastes better.

The singing starts,
And I capture what I hope,
Is the essence of the festival,
Normally I would join in,
And it seems obtrusive to film,
To watch, occasionally munching a crisp,
Trying to work out,
When is a good time to start the recording.

It is time to leave,
I set the tripod camera going,
And tell the organiser the issue,
Her dismay and my departure,
Captured into the digital memory,
The video will be good for twenty minutes,
I hope that will be long enough.

Have I left enough time,
To catch the train?
I drive to another town first,
I set a time,
To clear the town borders,
I think I will be fine,
If I hit my mark.

Roadworks and buses hold me up,
But I join the motorway,
Right on time,
I set the cruise control,
For the speed limit,
And try to relax,
Singing along to some 80s favourites.

I park the car with,
Just under 15 minutes spare,
Time to buy a ticket,
And take a few pictures of,
Cherry tree blossom,
When my fried arrives,
On her bike.

Plenty of space,
On the train,
But commuting,
Is a nightmare.

We talk about kids,
About holidays,
About autism,
About travel,
About the comfort of home.

In Edinburgh,
We grab a filled baguette,
And sit in St. Andrew’s Square,
In the sun,
With hundreds of,
The Capital’s youth,
Sprawled on the grass,
It is time for the concert.

 

The Flander’s Quartet,
Are as smooth in tone,
Skilled in technique,
And expressive,
As always,
Their playing is,
A beauty to behold.

But so many pieces of Bach,
Are lost on me,
At least in the first half,
Somehow I am more connected,
After the interval,
I wonder if the barrage,
Of sound in the crypt café,
Has neutralised,
The build-up,
From the day?

Strange, how the second half,
Seems cleaner to me,
More understandable,
More defined,
More enjoyable.

We leave the venue quickly,
The audience still clapping,
Appreciation of 30 years,
As an ensemble,
Sadness that this,
Is their finale.

We run for the train,
On my own,
I would have waited,
But together we jog,
Down into the depths of Waverly.

I worry about my knees,
Then I worry if I can keep going,
Glimpsing Platform 17,
On the board,
We get through the barriers,
And onto a train,
We have minutes to spare,
Is this the right train?
Yes,
Are you sure?
I believe it is,
Doubt creeping in.

It was,
Rather a busy day,
I am surprised,
That I enjoyed it.

 

 

 

 

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