Falling off a Cliff!

The other day, I had an e-mail reminding me that my courier insurance had expired.  It hadn't actually expired, of course, because I cancelled it last December when I retired and then secured the welcome refund of a fairly large unexpired premium.  Some systems, however, are so efficient they cannot be 'killed'.  Thinking to correct this apparent oversight, I followed the 'contact' link, and found myself logged into the driver web-pages where I had previously collected my weekly invoice.  For interest's sake, I looked at the last couple, and found it exhausting just seeing how far I'd driven in those last two weeks.  In my present, fairly mixed, range of journeys, I would have to go back into February to amass that many miles!

I remember describing occasions when a week or two of intense work had been followed by a spell of virtually nothing.  Some things don't change.  As I've written here before, it seems always to have been a pattern of my life that I have a 'project' on the go.  If your life shapes up that way, then you will know the feeling of emptiness - even disorientation - that can follow the completion of such an exercise.  This week began with not one, but two such projects; not lengthy and time-consuming as some are, but intense nonetheless.

It wasn't exactly a decision, but by last Thursday evening, I was convinced that this Monday and Tuesday I would make a pilgrimage to Witney in Oxfordshire, to help with the parliamentary by-election campaign.  (I have chosen my words carefully; I didn't go to knock on doors or to deliver leaflets - such things are better done by others who have greater confidence on the one hand and better local knowledge and walking ability on the other - but to assist with clerical aspects of the campaign: the 'addressers and stuffers' brigade.)  I realised last year that, instead of simply following the political world in the media as I have for many years, the time had come to play an active part.  Having now joined a political party, I felt the need to express that membership in a practical way.

After making the necessary personal plans, and spending not a little time finding a night's accommodation somewhere nearby that didn't involve driving half-way home again, by Sunday evening I was all set and left directly after the usual church breakfast on Monday morning.  I experienced a number of incidents - what I term 'blessings' - that told me I was doing the right thing and, by Tuesday evening when I made my way home (by way of a previously unknown KFC outlet!), I had collated, stuffed and sealed at least 1,400 official election communication envelopes, as well as addressing and filling a good many smaller items.

Though repetitive, the work was straightforward and afforded ample opportunity for conversation with, laughter at, and often simply listening to and learning from a variety of other people.  Only two of them did I already know, and many had, like me, driven quite long distances to lend a hand.  It was interesting to see the party leader, who visited the office later in the week, portrayed on facebook sitting at the very table where I had been working only days before.  I enjoyed myself so much, and felt it to be so worthwhile, that I shall be returning - for a single day this time - next week.

Immediately following this adventure came another; totally different but equally novel and demanding.  Having successfully had a couple of manitenance jobs done on my motorhome recently at a large motorhome depot some twenty miles or so from home, I had made arrangements for the annual MOT test to be carried out there, combining this with the recommended (although not mandatory) habitation checks.  Of necessity, not least because of an intervening national exhibition, these require the vehicle to be kept for some while instead of - as previously - needing me to wait an hour with coffee and a book.  So the need now was to arrange transport home, and this, too, had occupied part of last weekend.

In the event - and, I admit, to my surprise - the whole plan went like clockwork.  The engineer gave me a lift from the depot to the nearby railway station, where I had to wait only a quarter of an hour in the sunshine for a train into Bedford.  A pleasant walk across town to the bus station allowed me a similar wait for a bus to Hitchin, and a second bus took me to the centre of Letchworth, where I had a few errands to perform before walking home.  In all the journey took a little over three hours and I'm now wondering how easy it will be to undertake in reverse in a couple of weeks' time.

With these two major exercises over, the last two days have been a bit 'flat' and I've spent some while wandering about the flat, tidying this and tweaking that.  There are many things to which I could turn my hand, some that I know I ought to do, but none that are so desperate that they have to be done this week.  As I look back once more to those work records, I'm very glad to be retired now, so that I can have 'adventures' as well as tackle odd jobs.