Day 529: Goodnight, Biscuit

Such a feast today.

I absolutely did this face

This morning, in the interests of walking towards the pain, I went for a swim in Brockwell Lido. Oh my freezing fuck! It was intense. I haven't been in cold water for two months or so. Whenever it was, it was hovering around 12 and I'd been in when it was a few degrees above. Doing it in stages is a gentle way forward. But we weren't doing gentle this morning. I don't have my neoprene socks and gloves here with me, so it was barefooted and, more painfully, barehanded, that I went in. First time round, I got out again. I waited for a lady to come back from her first length and I joined her, swearing like a curse-bin. I did one length. I walked back. Next time (which will be on Friday), I will come back, a length there and a length back. 

As I lay in bed, the only way I could make myself do it was to imagine the conversation I'd have later, with myself or someone else: I was going to go for a swim in Brockwell Lido, but.... Doesn't matter what follows. Or 'I went for a swim in Brockwell Lido and...' something was done. A better option, quite simply. 

Which leads me to the talk below, which deals with the same themes: thanks, Rob Grundel, for this fantastic TED talk and for a brilliant, brilliant meeting this morning. I am very grateful for you and for what we do. Both inspire me. 

This time last year, here I was, doing this

Thank you, too to sweet Cat, not handsome cat, the actual cat, but beautiful, lovely Cat from the TTC, Cat. We met this afternoon. I was attempting to give blood (they said no again, still too low on iron - which means it is now vital that I sort my diet the fuck out and make it so that I can have the energy and good nutrition my body deserves). And then Cat texted to say she could be there sooooon, and she was. We had deep conversations and hot chocolate just off Oxford Street. I am full up and very happy. 

And to ice that particular cake, I had a fabulous skype chat with Fiona Sweny, also a TTC queen and life-transformer. How good is this? How good? Very good indeed, that's how good. She renamed the cat here 'Biscuit', which I like better than his actual name. 

And he's a cat. He doesn't give a shit what I call him as long as the food pouch turns up and the door is opened when he wants to go out. Biscuit is asleep on the bed after a half-hearted bat at my computer cord. Goodnight, Biscuit. May your dreams be full of flitting bluebottles.