Autumn morning, skew-wiff

If only my life was a jigsaw puzzle that could be solved.'Ah',  I hear you say, 'but which pieces would be missing?'

My last encounter of the day at work was challenging. I was glad to have had some training this week, though the matter in question was not suicide. It's more of a question of holding my centre and being strong for another, in the context of an orthodox medical environment. 

When I left, my phone was ringing, because I was supposed to be going to V's divorce party, hosted by S and I, who wants to be known as E. We ate, we drank, we talked, but best of all, we danced! S and E are  Afghanis but E has been raised in Iran as a refugee; V is Indian South African. I am Celtic-in-England. We danced to Arabic music then we all chose our own song to solo to. 

I am incredibly glad that I know some 'young people' who can throw a party with a couple of days' notice and know who to have a good time on a shoestring! It's good to be reminded of that. 

V isn't actually divorced yet. It's her decree nisi. S and I and CleanSteve helped her stuff all her belongings into black plastic bags and move out ultra-fast last July. Happier days now: she has rented a flat of her own and has a new man in her life (I know....)

The image is of one of the lovely Wentworth jigsaws I did on Tuesday but only put away this evening after the party.