Blog : Posts tagged with 'time'

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An anniversary of nothing

In which FP remembers how things have changed


It’s rare that you can say: a year ago today, I was doing X; with any degree of accuracy. Well, I don’t know about you. It’s rare for me to be able to say that.

A year ago today, I drove up the A1, then across to Penrith, and up to Glasgow, and checked into a hotel. I blogged about it here, after a fashion, and posted some photographs too. It led to … what? Not much, on the face of it. Nothing good that lasted for very long. Plenty of disagreement and argument. But I learned things, about people, and about how people sometimes behave.

After last October, it was a long time before I had to drive up the A1 again. But now, when I do, I’m in a good mood. Despite the roadworks in the Wetherby Gap, or the traffic at the Hook Moor interchange, I’m in a mood of cheerful excitement. A year, now, seems like a very very long time.

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This title will make sense with tomorrow’s post

In which summer breaks through the fog


When I write posts on here, I normally write the title first, then ramble on about it.

Yesterday, I managed to write a title, then ramble on about something entirely unrelated to the post I was meaning to write when I started. Which was, you might be able to guess, going to have been about the weather.

We’ve only just changed the clocks, shifted an hour, and already the character of the day seems to have entirely changed. Already, whatever the temperature is outside, it seems like balmy summer days are here again. Already that lazy, depressing summer evening feeling is back. It doesn’t last very long, because it’s getting dark again by half-seven still, but it’s there already.

The morning hasn’t sorted itself out yet. Every morning so far this week I’ve driven to work through thick fog, as if the weather is still trying to work out what to do, and is trying to hide its ignorance. Thick fog all the way, except when crossing the Big Expensive Bridge. Each end of the Big Bridge is befogged, but the middle, as the deck peaks, breaks out through the fog into bright yellow morning daylight.

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Quickly

In which time passes without being noticed


Well, that week went past quickly!

So fast, in fact, that I don’t have anything to write. Like a flash. I’m still not sure what happened, but only the other day it was the weekend still. Somehow I missed everything in between.

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