At the CoalholeAh Monday… my old friend….  or frenemy, should I say…  Yes, it’s true. We don’t generally get along.

It’s not for want of trying. We always start off on the right foot and I don’t know why or how but eventually it all goes pear shaped, doesn’t it… recently, there was the Monday that my bra strap broke in the middle of a meeting with senior managers… the Monday I got locked in the loo, one of the larger disabled toilets, and had to shout and bang on the automatic door till I was rescued… the many Mondays that technology and train schedules got the better of me…

Today is the last working Monday of my year… hurrah! slightly worried that, with all the Mayan predictions, it might be the last Monday ever… yikes! and if not, two Mondays to come which I can pretend are Sundays… hurrah! Never mind that my teenage daughter woke up on the wrong side of the bed and could only grunt at me this morning… never mind my boss flipped out at 4pm and launched a tirade, cascading her own angst and internal turmoil… and never mind that I was too busy to stop for lunch… the sun was shining!

Tonight was also a sort of wake for my old friend Ian… I’ve told you about him before and his wild ways… Mike and I returned to the scene of the crime… the coalhole where we’d both last seen him together… turns out it was the last time either of us saw him… relived the moments, filled in the blanks, cried over the hole in our hearts, laughed at the madness, the sheer irreverence of him… a larger than life character…

We could feel him in the rafters… at one and the same time mocking us and laughing with us… and not that he’d ever admit it but secretly pleased that we’d come out in his honour…

chin chin ye olde bastard… see you on the other side…

About F_ox

Just a mother, a wife, a writer, a professional marketer, amateur photographer, art lover, aspiring beekeeper... dreaming of a citrus grove in Sardinia... 'let the beauty of what you love be what you do' ~ Rumi
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