It was a beautiful day yesterday. The weather seems to have caught up with the calendar at last – for now, at least. I drove home from pilates through a gorgeous sunset. ‘Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight’. We’ll see.
Stuck in the study all morning, I hadn’t realised how nice it was. I went out for a meeting at 3 o’clock in my winter coat, boots and scarf, and thought: ‘I don’t really need these!’
It always takes me a while to adjust what I wear to the changing seasons. I get into habits, and don’t really think about changing them.
I did one of those quizzes on Facebook yesterday: ‘what is your chakra?’ apparently mine is the crown chakra, which isn’t located in the body, but just above the top of the head. Sounds about right. I’m always out of my head. Beyond cerebral. This could make me charismatic. Or not.
Towards the end of last year, I used to spend a lot of time on Facebook. The people I know on Facebook are friends in the Real World, not like here, but mostly ones I don’t often see in the Real world.
I don’t know why I got so drawn back into Blogland. I didn’t really intend to. It’s a strange kind of activity, a strange way of spending time and energy, this roaming inside the internet, a place of words and images. Interesting how we always use that geographical metaphor, we talk of ‘being here’ and ‘meeting people’. There must be other metaphors we could use, though it’s hard to see what they could be.
Lost in cyberspace, tangled in the web… all without leaving my chair, my study, this messy place where the jackdaws call from the chimney and the cat watches through the window. Cats have an endless fascination for windows. ‘Cat telly’ I call it, when they sit, staring in fascination at the world through the glass. At least their virtual world is accessible, if someone opens the door for them, or they can be bothered to drag themselves through the cat flap. I stare though glass at my virtual world, through a different kind of Windows. Yet, is it there, or is it inside my head? The physical portal, the transfer station from in-here to out-there seems almost invisible, irrelevant, transparent, until I start to consciously think about it, to see the dirt on the keyboard and under the keys, or the mess of abandoned work and other detritus scattered across and around the desk.
Will I have a look at Facebook again this morning? I went there yesterday because I had a message from my Latvian friend… then I remembered that I’d missed another friend’s birthday, on Sunday, which I felt bad about, because she remembered mine. I will see them in Paris in a fortnight. I just typed an ‘h’ on the end of ‘Paris’. It’s automatic. I was chatting to the vicar at a school governors meeting recently (she’s a very nice lady), and she was saying that she’d sent someone an email about taking her son, Chris, swimming, and had automatically typed ‘t’ at the end of his name, which amused the recipient, who had an image of Jesus sitting in the back of her car with his water wings (not that he would need them, of course). Occupational hazard.