On Tuesday I did my hand over at 9:30 am and then had nothing specific to do until I met M at 4pm. If we'd been staying in the area another night I would have used the time wisely by going to London or Reading but I knew that the drive home would take over 2 hours (it was actually over 2.5 in the end) and I was determined not to take any chances on being late to meet him. So I caught the next train back to Feltham and killed some time in the library before grabbing a gluten laden lunch at Subway and heading towards his office. There's a country Park just down the road and I planned to spend a bit of time there before meeting him. But I've been struggling a bit with the old depressive tendencies lately and by the time I reached the park I didn't really feel like walking aimlessly around so instead I was daft enough to wander into the adjoining cemetery. Old cemeteries full of illegible gravestones can be attractive I think, but unfortunately this one was still in use and the first gravestone I looked at was for a 6 year old girl. Given that I was already feeling down I should have stayed out in the first place or left straight away but instead I kept reading stones and getting gradually more teary until I finally found my senses (and a lichgate) and left.
After that I had a brief look at a pretty lake to try to clear my mind before heading to a cafe in the business park where M works and just camping there with my Kindle until he finished work. Then, of course, the trek home began and by the time we took delivery of our Chinese takeaway we were both pretty shattered. Yesterday I did take a short walk - nothing exciting sadly. I was reading a book as I went - a library book, one of the ones supposedly written by Richard Castle of the TV show Castle - and I popped into a convenience store where I ended up chatting for 15 minutes about murder mystery books and shows with the shopkeeper - which cheered me up quite a bit. I love talking about books, especially with people who have similar taste to me. And Enz and Deniz, I haven't forgotten being asked who my favourite author is :-) I was tempted to come up with something impressive, literary and life affirming so that you might believe I am an intellectual but I think that ship probably already sailed (and sunk), plus I couldn't carry it off! I read purely for pleasure and love murder mysteries, thrillers, science fiction and fantasy. I also enjoy autobiographies by comedians. My favourite (living) author is Nora Roberts (not her early slushy romances but her suspense thrillers and supernatural thrillers) aka JD Robb, and the book I was talking about was a JD Robb futuristic murder mystery. I would love love love to hear from you all what authors you would recommend as I do enjoy trying new writers - feel free to try to improve my mind if that's what floats your boat!