Z is listening to New Orleans jazz

This has turned into a surprisingly wasted evening.  The Sage had a meeting, so I cooked dinner early – earlier than I’d intended, in fact, because I thought it was 6.30 when it was only 6 o’clock – and I thought I’d do things while he was out.  Instead, I was asleep by 6.45.  And I woke a couple of times, unable to rouse myself, and zonked out again.  I slept for an hour in all, and was still incapable of movement for a while after that.  I can’t remember the last time I had a reasonable night’s sleep, and I suppose it caught up with me.  I’m afraid it’s scuppered my chances of sleeping much tonight, too.

Anyway, the bank teller was extremely helpful this morning, and she’s a PCC secretary herself so she caught on to the situation very quickly.  And there’s quite enough money in the account, Gill had underestimated herself – she’d actually topped up the money before she went away, and had forgotten.  No news today, I called round this afternoon with a letter explaining the money situation and knocked on the door just in case she was in, but she wasn’t.  I won’t bother her for a bit, I may see her on Sunday and, if not, I’ll speak to her then on the phone if I can.

I have to get a speech written for Monday evening.  I’ll haul out last year’s and rejig it a bit.  It’ll be fine.  It’s the school prizegiving – my job is, largely, to do a bit of a recap, with thanks, for the year, and I like to speak to the pupils directly – I do write it all out, because I’d be bound to leave someone out, but I try to not actually read it, but sound natural, if I can.  I can hear the difference in my voice when I come to a bit I have to read out.

Another funeral today, someone in the village who has been severely disabled by a stroke for some years.  He was never reconciled to his situation, and very angry with life, which rebounded somewhat on those looking after him.  I don’t think he was the easiest man, even before that, but a very honest and intelligent person, well read and knowledgeable.  I sat on my organ stool for several minutes after the service, because two women were standing in the aisle, the older one comforting the younger one.  Eventually, they went to sit in a pew to talk, so I left them.  They were family, I suppose a stepdaughter or a daughter-in-law and a granddaughter.  I’m fond of Harry’s wife, I will call and see her.  In fact, before he was ill, she used to come to church regularly and the Rector says she may well come and join us again.

And the title – well, that’s what I am doing.  Nothing too demanding, tonight.

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