Last Saturday night was windy and while Tom and I were watching tellie, there was strange bang outside. Thinking that it was the door, I put the matter out of my mind. Later though, I could hear the sound of moving water, such as one hears in pipes hidden behind walls. No taps were running, no cisterns filling. Tom dozed off and I headed outside to check the hot water tank, only to find the latter lying on its side like a fallen Dalek. It's bottom had buckled and punched out and the tank had lost balance. A call to the plumber ensued and cold water was the norm for two days.

It didn't make my Mothers Day any happier (see previous post) and it struck me at the time as a apt metaphor for my condition. Knocked for six and lying helpless. Only I'm not either of those things really though it's easy to feel like that on days when I'm feeling low. Great good fortune puts a roof over my head, an income in my pocket, a little man in my life. I am a member of a great choir, have the chance to sing in a cafe every Friday, and am slowly acquiring new friends. So really, I am the luckiest of men. I am also closer to God and trying hard to amend those aspects of myself that have been the cause of past trouble.

There will always be those days. But there is much more to be thankful for.