A COLD WEEKEND

I got stuck in traffic again this morning. That's the fifth time in two weeks.

Car horns beeped around me. A lady tapped her steering wheel in time to some music. A guy in a Volvo checked his rear view mirror where two uncomfortable toddlers were dressed up like polar-bears and had been strapped into car seats.

I flicked the radio over to the local station, just to see what was going on.

"There's heavy traffic this morning around the M4 at Junction 12," said the cheery presenter, "due to large volume of traffic, but do let us know if you spot any bumps or accidents on that one."

I sighed and switched it off. I really should check these things before I leave - it's no good being told you're in a traffic jam when you're in the traffic jam. That's not really news.

It was a good time to reflect on the weekend though.

My Mum's in hospital. I've been to visit a few times in the last few days - I find later in the evening is best, though I always find her tired and unsure how to tell me to go home. It's a common problem. Hopefully she won't be there too much longer.

There's a melancholy feeling about the late night hospital. Last night, I clacked out along the long blue corridors, finding my way back to the fresh air and the car. It's empty at that time - tired-looking doctors with clipboards stride in the other direction and nurses raise half a smile. The air lingers sterile with the smell of scented floor polish. Lights flicker; outside is dark and cold.

My flat's cold too. I can't seem to get warm unless I wrap myself in my duvet. It gets ever so difficult to do housework though, when you're shuffling about the kitchen like the sugar-puff monster.

Also this weekend, I met an old schoolmate at the gym. I didn't recognise him; he looked at me as though I had green skin.

"Matthew?" he said, curiously. I blankly said hi.

"You don't remember me do you?"

I apologised. Even looking straight at his face I had no clue.

He put me out of my misery and told me his name. I shook his hand, and very politely kept quiet about the incident that popped into my head. He asked me about the 'big 40'. I shivered.

-

Yesterday was also Remembrance Sunday - our opportunity to honour the fallen.

I thought a lot about honour yesterday - it's not a word that gets used often, but it seems quite key to a lot of the problems around us. I realised that I might be in the minority of people who still somehow believe that the President of the United States deserves honour, even though the present incumbent is probably unsuitable for the job. You can rant at me about that if you like.

I also believe that every man should honour every woman. Honour's really important. Why, I wonder, don't we talk about it more?

-

And that, I reflected, was my weekend, I suppose: hospital, remembrance, honour, an old connection in the gym and walking around like a blanketed snowman. I think the cold is really getting to me, into my bones.

The traffic eased a little, out beyond the roundabout. The car horns stopped and hundreds of people in shiny vehicles powered into the morning sunlight and headed for work. I rubbed my gloved hands together and shuddered. Then I did exactly the same thing.