Musing on just an ordinary day when nothing much of note happened I was suddenly aware just how much my life has changed in the past 18 months.
January 2010, cold housebound, snow thick everywhere, bored, lonely unhappy and finding nothing of beauty in the silent white world outside my window. Only five months since my hiusband's death, still numb and not really able to respond naturally to even the friendliest of overtures, at that time it seemed my life also was over.
The slow gradual awareness that if I didn't make a positive move to find some sort of social outlet for my frozen emotions I would rapidly become beyond rescue.
Then the warmth and kindness of the St. Mary's 'family' the chance to do the odd few hours as a volunteer, be it only answering phones, shredding unwanted paper, chatting to the odd visitor to the church and soon after, joining the choir.
Starting to sing again after so many years break and discovering a totally new voice - these days a contralto - and the singing lessons from our first class voice coach, beginning to find something to do with my life and best of all, being baptised and confirmed and experimenting with a completely new way of life.
Now I take all these things in my stride and they are just part of a normal day, week, month and time is slipping by seamlessly.
This morning I was 'trapped' in the office, which is in the corner of the church behind the chancel, where a funeral was taking place. When this happens all the busy corners of St. M's become silent and doors normally open are kept closed so not to intrude on the service
Unable to leave the office I simply sat and joined in the service, only the second one I've ever witnessed here.
For all the mourners it was a momentuous day and yet for those of us who work there it is part of the pattern of church life. Not something I would ever have considered in my old life.
Later in the day I had a singing lesson. The day was close and humid and getting to grips with Elgar's "Where corals lie" was tiring but so worthwhile. It is so gratifying to hear the occasional good sound issuing from what I had thought to be an extinct volcano.
Returned home, I took the secateurs and removed some heat-crisped rose heads then filled up the bird feeders for the second time today.
I saw my neighbour's brand new baby daughter and wondered briefly what her little life will hold, and realised that despite my occasional descent into gloom and depression, my life is so much more interesting now that it was 18 months ago.
Not a wildly exciting existence but so much better than then and with so much more to look forward to, life actually seems to have at least the glimmer of interest I had almost given up hope of seeing.
It's twelve minutes past eleven pm and one of my neighbours is watering the garden in the dark!
Time to log off.