Oh, how pleasing to work with those frank Frank people again. That Mr Bett, he's a good one. And he does make me laugh. My lunch, courtesy of some accounting people, was delicious as anything. Two types of peas! (not two types of pea... there were peas cooked as peas and peas cooked as fat mush. They are different types of pea, but I remain unmoved by this naming... well moved by the peas). I fucking love peas, I do.Mist rising on the pond this morning, or rather hanging out. Hanging in there. The cold made my face make shapes today, stepping in. No noises at that stage, but a few involuntary phoos on the way round. Happy ones. Exhilarated ones. Sensation-filled exhalations and a dog-like head shake after going under.
The gull was unnervingly silent. No shouting or name-calling, or chest-chrushed cawing, like a teenage boy trying to whistle or blow smoke rings. My dive felt ungainly and surprisingly plungey. The lady watching called it 'magnificent'. Hearing that made the unexpected depth feel like a fine thing rather than a mistake. Sweet Laura filled my morning with richness, stories and groundedness, and a trip to Marks & Spencer. Chai, apparently, is hard to come by in Madrid. Not in M&S.
I'm all excited for this evening and tomorrow, and I'm working with those lilty-clear voices in my ears and a whole load of bubbles in my belly. Sweet!
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