Ten in August

A lot could have gone wrong.

Yesterday, ten of us were meeting in York. That's ten of us who used to go round together long long ago when hi-tech was a cassette player. Some of us were part of a theatre group that ran on a shoestring and made our stage lights out of coffee tins. Yesterday after some determined organisation (thanks, Ed,) we all got together for lunch at the Bar Convent, a river trip, and a coffee at the excellent Spurriergate centre. Oh, and we got wet. That wasn't the river, that was English summer rain.

And it worked, and didn't go wrong. All right, Tony was late because he had to fit in a meeeting first, but that's fine. I said I'd meet them in the Convent garden and Silke couldn't find it, but Judith knew where it was and came to find me. (That was in the sunny morning, not the wet afternoon.)

After our various struggles with work, relationships, health stuff, ups and downs, we seem to have come through all right. Some are on to second careers and loving it. And when we think about it, we didn't spend much time talking about old times. We talked about new times, because now is always new, and so much is going on.

Today some of us are back to work, one will be helping in a food bank, two or three will be preparing course work for next year's students, one or two will be doing various voluntary stuff. I'm writing, catching up on housework, and preparing a children's activity day for this afternoon. So, please excuse me.