When I made the decision not to blog last Sunday, it was a big one. I have been blogging on Sundays (initially weekly, latterly fortnightly) for the last year and a half so the absence felt acute. I did consider writing to say I’d not be writing but then I thought what would be the point in that? You’ve all got busy lives, everyone could do with less communication these days not more.
So hello Thursday. I’m back. The week is on the home straight and May will be here tomorrow. I actually rather like the poetry of writing on a different day. Consistency is good but so is change.
The reason for my silence is that I’ve just been through one of the biggest, busiest weeks of my life – the completion and celebration of the £20m redevelopment of the theatre I run in London. It’s been a crazy but amazing time. And at the official opening on Tuesday night even Joan Collins was on the dance floor. I’m glad to say that for once it was her legs that made the Daily Mail not mine but if you look carefully you’ll find my smiling face in the article.
I wrote in my last blog two weeks and four days ago that my capital project had been nine years in gestation and it was a bit like giving birth. It now feels like my baby has grown up and gone away. So on Saturday I’m off to Formentera, a little island off Ibiza in Spain. I wish I could say it was a holiday but in fact I’ll be attempting to undertake my qualifying Channel swim. For those of you who don’t know what this means (and that was me not so long ago), I have to be certified as having swum six hours in water below 16 degrees before I can attempt to cross the English Channel. And for those of you who didn’t know that I’m in training to attempt to cross the English Channel, I hope I didn’t make you choke on your morning tea. So wish me luck. The Balearics here I come. I just hope the test is positive and I’m going to be able to have a new baby this August. My water baby.