I’ve been travelling around vast swathes of northern England this week: Rotherham, Barnsley, Huddersfield, Hartlepool, Darlington – all the best places. Around a five hundred miles all in. Doesn’t sound a lot but by the end of the week I’d had seen enough of the M62.
On Tuesday I stood looking at the deserted Huddersfield train for twenty minutes before accepting that no one was going to turn up to drive it and jumped on a train to Leeds instead, figuring it was at least in the right direction.
On my travels I saw the after effects of storm Ciara. Fields are waterlogged, rivers flow close to their banks and broken branches litter the pavements. Meanwhile storm Dennis – the remains of a furious North Atlantic cyclone – heads towards us. This winter is turning out to be much more exciting than usual.
One of the things I’ve been thinking about this week how I can cultivate a more active life outside of work. It’s said that your thirties are the decade that friends disappear, and I’ve certainly felt that. While I’m fairly happy in my own company, I have started to consider that my social introversion might not be healthy in the long-term. Perhaps it’s because the eldest will be going away to university soon and I have a glimpse of a life without them in the house to keep me entertained.
Basically, I need some hobbies.