The Boy and The Coconut Tree

This is just a run of the mill e ntry , no drama etc. So May is almost over, not Theresa May , I would love her to be over, I am talking about the month, a funny month, changes galore and it is hard to believe that 4 weeks ago I was in Montreal and Quebec eating gravy and chips and not feeling guilty about it. I changed jobs in May, not because I wanted to but my contract was coming to an end and was fortunate enough to find another job with a similar title, well instead of Professional Standards Manager I became Head of Professional Standards. A big leap and as my new boss said, I've become a big fish in a small pond after being a small fish in a big pond for a long time and it is scary, I feel like I've jumped over a big wall and whilst trying to enjoy that success I am now in a big garden or rather a safari park and there are bigger beasts to deal with. I am neither a real pessimist or a Pollyanna optimist so it is too soon to measure my success or failure. All I know right...

I was once told by a former manager that you had to be careful what you wished for, be it work or in life. I never quite understood what he meant until I was transferred to Boston for a few weeks that turned into almost two years. I thought that was cool, something I hadn't asked for, so why should I be sorry? However, his words of warning did come true this time.  I was interviewed for a job in May 2015, the job description met my wish list and the people who interviewed me were lovely, what could go wrong!? The gap between the interview and starting was almost 5 weeks due to security checks etc.  Once I started, both those lovely people from the interview had resigned and my adventure and downward spiral began.  I won't name the place I worked, for obvious legal reasons, let’s call it the Commission and see how many of you guess where it is?  My first 2 months weren't too bad but when the vacancy for my line manager was finally filled, so my troubles began. ...

Everywhere I have walked today I've been confronted by hearts, cherubs, romantic angels and all the other symbols of Valentines Day and the reminders that we are all supposed to do something romantic tomorrow, or else .  The boring safeness of Valentines! But what of those people who are single and don't feel the need to reach out and touch someone tomorrow. I am happy that I don't need to spend money on expressing something that as a good lover I would be doing daily, hourly, every moment I was around my loved one. Most of my friends are now couples, the few of us who are single are not ostracised but there is a trend towards people doing more things as couples and less with friends. I know this happens but just as there are campaigns to ensure your lonely elderly neighbour is not doomed to drink cups of tea alone, there should be a campaign on Facebook or Twitter to reach out to your single friends and ensure they aren't doomed to speed dating, online...

It is August and it is raining and reminds me of Winter and this is the English summer in action. Yesterday was 32c and sunny and I have the farmers tan to prove it. My arms and lower legs are reddish brown and my upper arms and chest are as white as they day I arrived on earth (that makes me sound like some alien visitor when I should have just said "born") As I sit here waiting for one of my Spanish students, Davinia, I am reading her account of a Spanish novel, El Tiempo Entre Costuras,  and it makes me want to travel so much.  I was feeling all sentimental today. I arrived back in England 1 year ago this week and that first week was an interesting week of good and bad.  My dad's brother, uncle John died after a long battle with lung cancer but I was lucky enough to see him a few days before he died and have the usual, uncle taking the piss out of a nephew, conversations. That week I also spent some quality time with my parents, my sisters and my nieces and ne...