July 16 2025, 18:56

Splashing in the shallows

A month ago, I said I was going to try new things, and that’s what I’ve done. I started swimming lessons. I had a guitar lesson (with another tomorrow). I redesigned this website and built it under a new domain name. I read a non-fiction book about the prolonged death of neoliberalism.

As a reward for taking these small risks, I had some dreams, one of which involved an obscure conversation with my father in a deserted castle. It’s a potent time. It’s a good start.

I’m getting close to my summer break, which is exciting. In August, I’m off for three full weeks. It’s not like any other summer I can remember, because my wife and daughter are going to Vietnam, and I’ve chosen to stay home. After Australia in November sucked up most of my annual leave, I couldn’t face another adventure holiday. I haven’t had a week off since my Arvon week in February, and that wasn’t a rest. Instead, I’m going to relax at home. Alone.

The alone bit is unsettling. I don’t think I’ve been alone for more than a weekend in thirty years. There was always a child, or both children, when my wife was away, and before we met I was in a succession of house shares. Someone was always about. I'm always making a meal for another person.

I’ve started a list of things to do. I know this is a defence against the possibility of feeling lonely. It would be more radical to let the holiday come and not have plans. The only thing I truly don’t want to do with the time is fill it with online bullshit—the news, YouTube, Bluesky. I want to be bored, I want to relax, and I want to follow my nose.

Having said that, I really fancy getting the train to London for a couple of days and going to an art museum, some book shops, a good restaurant. And I want to go swimming in the daytime. And I want to get into a film project to post about on the website. And I want to keep writing the novel.

Only a couple more weeks. It’s close.

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