Spring has sprung

When the alarm bellowed at me I literally leapt out of bed.
At six in the morning there is no point in arguing with John Humphries.
Collected my shorts and vest from the utility room, rolled up a clean towel, filled my water bottle with filtered iced water, poured in a sashet of something with vitamins in, threw in my phone and purse and crept out of the flat.
Within 30 minutes I had driven through Wandsworth, Clapham and Balham, parked in Sainsbury’s and arrived at the Bikram reception bang on time.
The 6.30 class was fuller than I expected, but we worked as one. The teacher, new to me, was lovely and I left after 90 minutes of blissful moving meditation.

I take my life into my hands and wash in the communal showers. All that tight, pert flesh with well cut hedges, makes me self conscious. However, I rip off my wet clothes, okay peel off my shorts and vest and gingerly step into the shower room hoping that nobody notices my fallen arches and overhang.
I cant see anything very well as I have myopia and a stigmatism as well as steamed up lenses when I do decide to put my glasses on, the rest of the class have 20:20 vision and hopefully a forgiving nature. Am I embarrassed by the time the water hits me? No I imagine I am in a hair shampoo advert, all lithe and smily with herbal flowers coming out of my hair and the body of an air-brushed nymph.
Getting dressed requires utilising the 12 step plan.
1.Towel dry the hair.
2.Wrap towel round body.
3.Pull on long t-shirt.
4.Re-wrap towel round hair.
5.Heave up drawers.
6.Drag on short gym leggings.
7.Un-peel said leggings off damp legs.
8.Slide into pink crocks.
9.Remove towel.
10.Roll up sweaty garments in wet towel.
11.Walk into the wall.
12.Wipe steamed up glasses.
I drink that big bottle of vitamined drink on the drive back to the flat.
The blossom is out. From pink to white. The Mahonia is shouting out its presence with its yellow flowers and mimosa type scent. All the yellow daffodils are dipping their heads together, chuckling away at the possibility of a little sunshine.
This morning I met with Esther, the lovely Beeb producer, in BENNETTS the new oyster bar in Battersea Square. Its got deep green leather banquettes and some of the nicest young staff. This morning Johanna from Stockholm served us with coffee and hot water. She wants to be a civil engineer. Unlike most of the young folk working as waitresses she does not want to be Cheryl Cole or Dorothea in ‘Gone With The Phantom When Love Never Dies Over the Rainbow With Priscilla in the Desert. Jesus.’
Emma Leech joined us, she’s coming onto the show to talk about The 5 Rhythms Dance thingy, then I paid up and Esther went off to Egton House and Emma and I walked to Clapham Junction. We had lunch in The Whole Food Market, which feels like a very wholesome refectory in a BHS Borstal, bought provisions for our respective gits, and walked back to the flat.
The blossom in the little park lifted my spirits as did the grape hyacinths in a window box. Rows and rows of purple Muscari, and no thats not the Greek singer with glasses, then Emma drove off to teach and I worked out that if I stayed at my desk I could get in at least three hours work before Gods Gift arrives.
I may go out for a meet with the Barry, but I may just stay put. I am so excited about my new idea I think it deserves an airing. Opening up a new white page and giving it a start.
A moth has just visited me. where has it come from?
In faith I know not sirrah…yep I can feel the Bard in me screaming to get out….
My last ever Tuesday as a 61 year old….before I know it I’ll be celebrating my birthday with a bunch of bubble guzzlers and a bag of nuts.
That’s it I think I am going to Pharringtone.
cu2morrer.