Boy, is my office a midden or what? Suitcase after suitcase has been carted home from the 8th floor of the Aurora building to the back room at Roman Drive as ten years of memories goes home. The first suitcase full was an anticlimax as I only managed to get the three pairs of running shoes that had accumulated in the office over recent months. A sign of too much running to work (downhill) and not enough running home (uphill). Admittedly the suitcase was one of those cabin bag sized ones, but I would have hoped to get more than three pairs of shoes in it. They are like boats.
So what happens next? I am going to do two things. The first is contrary to what I said in my last blog. I am going to continue doing patent work. Not full time but enough to keep my feet in reality. My father in law took me aside after my last blog and cautioned me against becoming Parkinson’s 24/7. His view was I needed something out with Wobbly. He caught me short. I was aghast (I wasn’t really, it’s just such a great word and I’ve never used it before). I was sort of aghast. But the more I thought about it, the more I saw he was right. I am a Parkinson’s bore already. Let’s not make it worse (and believe me, my patent stories would have you rolling in the aisles).
My patent work will be in my own firm which will be launched once my employment at Marks & Clerk has finished. It will be a bit wobbly, not too much, but enough to distinguish us from the rest.
On the Parkinson’s front, things are moving. There is a very exciting opportunity to bring the best bits of what we do together with the experience, strength and scale of others to make Wobbly bolder, louder and pinker. To raise the awareness needed to generate the money needed to fund the projects needed to cure this rather ghastly disease (ghastly must be in the same family a aghast).
I can not be more specific than this at the moment. But it won’t be long.
And now I am 41. The years are just winging by. Karen and I walked up Beinn Narnain, a Munro which sits beside The Cobbler, overlooking Arrocher. It was a great walk, some exposed ledges, gusty winds and low visibility made it testing enough. We walked up the east side and planned to go down the west but once we reached the summit cairn we couldn’t find the west side path. So we made up our own. Just as we were about to plunge into the merk, an apparition of another walker in the competent category appeared and saved us from certain death. Or at least saved us from a lifetime wandering about the Arrochar Alps, which is really quite exciting.
Thence it was home to sit on the throne the girls had made for me, complete with cardboard crown covered in tin foil, as I opened my presents.
Late afternoon was spent eating and drinking with Vicky at Two Fat Ladies at The Buttery. Bloody marvellous. I had an £80 voucher to spend (a 40th birthday present) but still had to chuck in £50 to cover the bill! It was sensational.
After dinner we went to see the Circus of Horrors at the Kings Theatre. Amazing. The contortionist reminded me of the manoeuvres some of my sponsors for Kilimanjaro performed when it came to pay up. Incredible.
Things are hard at the minute. But I WILL prevail.