P.S. Today it's snowing.

The book I’m reading at the mo….., no I won’t start there…..

Two days ago – that’s better - I was playing a game, it was Nathalie’s turn and she asked me the following question – “If you could be someone else for a week , whom would it be and why?”

There was no hesitation on my part – “it would have to be someone female, certainly, and I would probably choose to be my daughter, I think she has a great time.”

But today I was running…… no hang on, I need to tell you about the book.

The book I am reading at the moment is NOT Mitch Albom’s “have a little faith” as I recently stated (here) nor Robert Harris’s Enigma which Greg (here) lent/gave me.

Mitch’s effort, albeit probably well crafted, failed to engage me as much as his previous work had and Robert’s offering just doesn’t look like my sort of book - I only took it because Greg is my son’s girlfriend’s mum’s boyfriend and he keeps doing nice things for me and my son.

Like the other day when he gave me a copy of Peter Jackson’s film production of District 9.

The file had sat on my computer’s hard disk for a long time - waiting for a day when I would take my daughter to her Saturday ballet class and instead of going for a bike ride as I usually do, because the osteopath had advised a day of rest, I would go for a walk – except it would then have to suddenly pour very heavy cold rain and not let me out of the car so that I could sit there and watch it.

I would have to have my laptop with me of course, which I did last Saturday when all this happened.

It is an amazing film. Deeply disturbing – in a good way; challenging of our behaviour and beliefs and with a profound underlying message.

I urge one and all to see it.

Except the racist who came up to us the other day and said “I hope you chew on a piece of wood and get infected.”

As insults go it was a pretty weird one, the fact that they took the trouble to utter it English so that we could understand, she was French, just added to the occasion.

On second thoughts maybe she SHOULD go see District 9, although I fear her redemption may already be dammed.

So, I took Enigma (Greg/book/girlfriend – remember?) to be polite and to encourage the distribution, my way, of more interesting films as Greg clearly has more of a finger on the pulse of things than me/I.

And pulse is one of the things that Haruki Murakami writes about in his book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running – which I AM reading at the moment.

Well, not RIGHT at this moment because obviously RIGHT now I’m writing, not reading, but hopefully you catch my drift – which I admit is really drifting today, because, in fact, I am writing about my mum.

Haruki is a Japanese writer, you might have guessed that from his name, and he is a serious (serial-marathon) runner – you may have guessed that from the title of his book.

But what is the connection with my mum, even if she did once beat me in a race?

A good question!

Which I will try to answer.

Huraki’s book, which speaks in length about the pulse of long distance runners, inspired me to increase the length of my normal run (up the track and back) and as I was pounding/plodding through distant near-frozen field (it was cold today) I found myself reconsidering my reply to Nathalie’s question.

Nathalie?

See top.

I realised that such an opportunity, if it ever came my way, could not be squandered and although I was right to choose female, my daughter was not my final answer.

It would have to be my mum.

My mum, alive, before illness devoured her, just after her move to the house by the sea.

She would have been full of excitement and love and although I shouldn’t ask for more there is.

A week to tiptoe and forrage among the memories and experiences of her life.

And you?