Monday 18th May 2020

40th anniversary of the death of Ian Curtis.

I was aware of Ian Curtis at the time, but I was into metal at the time.

Heavy metal.

My friend, James, was a fan of Love Will Tear us Apart, I was too young to understand the pain it described.

I got in in time.

Ian died almost un-noticed by most of the outside world. In time his influence and his work became ever more important.

I cannot say what my favourite song or lyric by him is. It my be Love Will Tear us Apart, or Dead Souls or Atmosphere. Or something else. Depends on how I feel, really.

Would Joy Division be so revered if Ian had not died? I don't know.

Peter Hook says it shivers at the thought of what the band could have become, if only.

If only.

Instead we have two albums, three singles, a collection of dark and moody pictures. And an engigma.

I have no words. All we have are our memories, and the records and what they mean to us.

My main memory is of James and Richard, in the 6th form common room, discussing what the lyric to "Decades" meant. I still don't know, maybe its better we don't, some pain is better not to bear.

And it is Monday.

And I have to get back on the cross trainer.

Sigh.

Outside it was a sunny start, and the promise of better days ahead.

Maybe.

Jools is up and doing stuff, making brews and feeding the cats. I struggle out of bed, and am ready to face the day.

It is to be a packed week, with two days taken with auditing, or witnessing an audit, so this day would be the only "normal" working day.

Here we go.

But first: workout.

Jools goes for a walk, and I go upstairs, put the radio on and get pumping.

I almost enjoy it.

Almost.

But after, there is time to get dressed, make coffee and prepare breakfast before the early morning meeting.

And then preparation for the two days audits ahead. Take meetings, coordinate.

The morning passes. I have lunch. Corned beef and remoulade sandwiches.

I know how to live.

The mail comes, and with news of the final stage in Mum's life: the official statement of her estate, what is owed, and what is left.

There might be enough for a sausage roll or two.

I have to sign a form, post it back.

And that is that.

The family house will be put up for sale, and that will be that.

I walk back from the postbox, normality has returned. Mr Evo is polishing his new car, waves at me as I walk back.

The back garden looks fabulous, very much a wild meadow, all full of mostly Yellow Rattle, but with clover beginning to appear, and Ox-Eye Daisies soon to flower.

I take shots as the cats look on.

Dinner is to be asparagus and fresh corn bread.

And wine.

And there is cross training to be done, a shower after, as the cooking itself and preparation took about 15 minutes.

We would have had ice cream sitting in the garden in the evening, but we are out, so make do with coffee.

And the day fades, more planes are flying over, lockdown is over and normaility is around the corner.

Unless the Government have got it wrong, of course.