I had a phone call from an ex-colleague, now retired. He had some sad news - a colleague, younger than us both, has suddenly died.
Whilst I was plodding along as a Social Worker, she was ascending the promotion and responsibility ladder, and reached some dizzy heights. She was, however, an out and out workaholic, with a very tight focus. Goes to show, with ME and all, maybe I'm the lucky one. There are points to ponder, wherever you look. She had her vision, I have mine. Mr Yeats states my position better than I could:
THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE
By William Butler Yeats
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
TV Tuesday: Time After Time
7 hours ago