Right now, on this 26th day of November 2012, I'll have you know, we are perched quite happily at a local Beauty spot at the Roundway White Horse, Devizes, Wiltshire. I look down over the escarpment and there below me, twinkling orange and white, is Devizes town on a blustery cold, dark and damp winters eve.
Over the last few weeks we have been with my brother Richard in Salisbury. This very welcome haven has seen various odd jobs completed on Sadie and slowly all is being readied for the dash to warmer climes early in January. Sadie now sports new mudflaps and all damage to the side skirts is now fully repaired by yours truly.
In a previous life, a life where make do and mend was a financial but enjoyable necessity, I undertook the rebuild of a fibreglass Reliant Robin three wheeled car. It was a daunting project but at the end of the day an excellent looking little three wheeler wobbled its way around Cirencester, Gloucesrershire, for several years. The repairs to Sadies side skirts and subsequent re inforcing of her leisure battery casing had me dredging up all those long forgotten skills. I am pleased at the result plus I guess I have saved a few pennies.
When in the UK I love visiting and spending time with relatives not seen for years. Also with friends, X wives/girlfriends too, who, incidentally still retain a preciousness to me in respect of how each of us are who we are today only because of those past relationships. All are on my 'visits to do' list which never seems to grow any smaller. Personally, and with a career history behind me of both sales and counselling, conversation and meaningful exchange is important, needed and sought after. For the last few days visiting of good friends has been the agenda. My dear friend Pete the Poet and lovely wife Anne welcomed me warmly as I gingerly reversed into position in front of their garage. Frome is a very pleasant town and it is good to see them settled, happy and with good friends and neighbours.
Rather than return to Salisbury immediately I battled the atrocious stormy weather plus flooded roads and headed for higher ground here at Devizes. After all the visiting I needed some alone time. I enjoy and often find I am in need of such reflective time and space.
There is quite a raunchy story behind this particular need of a reflective space. Soooo .... If you are not 'adult' or don't do raunchy now is the time to stop reading and put the telly back on!
A few weeks ago I had the very popular and erotic book '50 Shades of Grey' thrust into my hand with instructions given to; 'go read it!'
Now I am a normal heterosexual male with a chequered history of wonderfully intimate, healthy and conventional relationships. They of course all contained their individual cocktail of erotic physical escapades. I am also well informed through my years of counselling work of other not so normal or healthy, and sadly in my experience, damaging physical and psychological relationships.
So it was with some trepidation that I delved into the first few chapters. Basically; I did not want my tentatively balanced sexuality disturbed unnecessarily at this delicate point in my life where I have so recently lost the love of my life, Kate. I know me. I know how well my strong spirituality and meditative practice supports me. However; I also know how too much exposure to eroticism is deliciously and mischievously capable of 'buggering' my psyche about.
Well; 50 Shades of Grey did not disappoint. The psychological story was good. The author knew her stuff. The erotic physical escapades were also good and, as anyone who has read it will know, filled the majority of the book. The 'turning on' capacity of the book is not to be denied. Yes, '50 Shades of....' did as predicted, bugger me about both deliciously and mischievously. Hence the need for an away weekend, and contact with close friends and companion to share, understand and dismantle the tangled web of erotic mischief. This final quiet 'alone' time is a facilitative space. One where the psycho-physical tree of stability can find and gratefully rest once again on secure deep roots.
50 Shades of Grey is a trilogy. I can pretty well guess the continuation and eventual outcome of the psychological storyline. And the raunchy eroticism? Well, guess I'm gonna leave that too. Exposure to one book is enough for this pill popping, x heart attack, doggy owning motorhome maniac!
"C'mon Tanya. Time for walkies."
