Monday, March 14, 2022

Oxford to Paddington GWR Railway

Well we made it again.  We’re on the train from Oxford to Paddington. We have to transfer there to underground to get to Piccadilly



.  Only one stop.  I had to get out my compass to sort out north and south to get seated south the way we are going.  Oxford was an experience.  Now London five days. I was supposed to do a conference here but it got cancelled, uncertainties of Covid and attendance.  Just thought I might call and attend another that carried on but it’s really not essential..  I’m so enjoying the travel study and writing.  
Surprised that the Francis Bacon painting was perhaps the most expensive there. Must find out why he’s so desired.  I’d heard of his work and been shown some and thought it fine but the whole issue of ‘cost’ of a work of art is affected by many factors.  Commodities are so much about forces and pressures.  I believe art is a commodity market. Something to look up. Ron would know.  When he was a live I’d phone him up and ask him something like this as an excuse to touch base. Perhaps I’ll ask Graeme.  Next time I’m seeing one of my investors in practice , one of the collectors or brokers, I could ask. But there’s google now.  An excuse for human interaction is lost
Laura is excited about travel.  She worries. I remember my Aunt Sally saying she was a worrier.  I really appreciate meditation. I am living in the moment and prepare but also know that God is in charge and all things will be well.  I didn’t sleep well last night. I imagine I’m going through negative scenarios, reflecting on past scenarios.  I have never got over thee diarrhea episode at the zoo. I wondered if it was more.  Ron got me home.  I was 5 and he’d be 10.  Mom put me all in the bath and undressed me there. I was covered in shit.
I was horrified.
I guess there was that whole not caring about shit phase a few years earlier then the potty training and here at 5 my mother was disgusted and I was disgusted and I was in a bathtub in my own shit.  When I’m stressed I have shit dreams. They blur with terrible toilets I’ve encountered travelling.  Also with working on GI wards and doing GI surgery.  
Travelling I’m always worried about having to pee.  I like drinking coffee but all the commotion of train and bus and walking shifts the fluids and I may as well be drinking pints in the pub the number of times I have to take a piss.  Laura doesn’t drink anything when she’s out to avoid needing to go to the bathrooms.  She’s a regular camel.  All about Detruser muscles. My friend claims with age his small bladder has become smaller. I’m amused that older people talk their bodies as detached entities.  
My back hurts. I think it’s wear and tear but it’s a psychosomatic black hole.  I’ve been too much on couch and sitting during lockdowns.  I miss the pool and hot tub and hope when I return they’re normalized.  
Beautiful emeral green fields to the left.  Don’t know what’s growing. Miss my Dad. He always knew just looking what was growing in the fields or what the farmers were doing.  It looks like a golf course and I wonder if that’s the sheep or a new crop of something coming in.  It’s very warm today . I’m overdressed now with jacket and coat.  Just saw a little plane. Another train passed. The fellow across rom me is young and working on his computer. The fellow across from him is working on his phone.  I’m enjoying working my fingers looking up at the passing scenery.  The villages have a functionality and somewhat drab similarity to a lot of the houses.  I like the rivers, calm deep, slow flowing.  They’re proper rivers.  
I’m going to load some of the Oxford pictures I took but haven’t share yet. I want to get back to reading Stuart McLean’s detective novel, too. When I lived in London for many months I’d train from South Pitney where we lived into the centre of the city. I’d have a seat each morning and read the whole way , a half an hour to an hour commute, great reading time.  On the way back it night be more full and I ‘d stand but when I had a seat I loved commuting and reading. Standing I’d read too but it was awkward. I was such a vociferous reader then. I read a lot now but not so voraciously as then. I’m also not as likely to be interested in tougher read. I’m reading that genetics of Scoland book, always reading a history but no so much interested in sciences these day.  I do like anthropology  I’m interested in future sciences to, speculation from quantum physics .  
  





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