Yesterday we were intending to take part in “Just This Day” – an attempt to unite as many people as possible in silent meditation at some point, spilling over into prayer for the world, particularly justice. We did sort of take part, but it didn’t turn out the way I anticipated. For a start the silence was mainly not only in the morning but in bed, as we were both exhausted after three or four busy days. Does silence while asleep count? I was viewing the rest of the day as a sort of sabbath, where I was abstaining from my normal technological output for a long time and generally keeping things restful and low key, which I guess a day of rest is supposed to be about. We listened to a DVD on body prayer, which didn’t quite do it for me, though it had its points, and Dot discovered a couple of versions of the Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic on a CD, which I did find extremely interesting. In fact, I’m thinking of inserting one of them into our Christmas event. Dot and I also went out for a walk along Thorpe Road, up Cotman Road and eventually back across the Rosary. Lovely crisp autumn day, with a nice sunset. Watched too much TV in the evening, though.

Today Dot is supposed to be writing her report following the inspection on Tuesday, so of course she’s clearing up the house and doing some washing. I’ve cleared up another binful of leaves, the current one having been emptied at lunchtime. It’s the time of year when fortnightly collections just aren’t enough.

This is a picture of the City Hall lights mentioned in my last post. You can just about see the room I worked in for a couple of years: 1964 and 1965, to be precise, when I was a junior clerk in the city treasurer’s audit department. Often wonder what might have happened if I hadn’t left for London and a career in journalism. No contacts left from that time, though I had friends there: David Brown and Robin Larke among others. Not to mention Mimi, Jean, Sally, and Pam. Odd how two years of your life leaves no apparent residue – though I do still have the bookcase they gave me when I left. It is behind me as I write.