A regular and mundane stamp for an irregular week for me. Or has it? It’s been a week where regular everyday events just appeared to carry more weight. I turned 40. There was the funeral for my next door neighbour. Friends all sitting together at the end of the garden, chatting about old days as the sun slowly set. Then but two days later in the garden backing onto that, young people celebrating something else, voices raised in high spirits, laughter, singing. Then my eldest daughter leading the orchestra into their final piece at school.
These kind of things happen everyday everywhere – they just seemed to be in a different colour this week.
peter wyeth 