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Burlington Arcade is in a very swish part of London. Part of a “manor” with which I was once familiar. There used to be a top end tobacconist there from whom I would purchase fancy cigarettes. My mother was occasionally gifted Sobranie cocktail cigarettes from there. I used to buy imported Italian cigarettes. The woman behind the counter traded with all sorts including a scruffy me. We were on familiar terms.

I have just has a massive industrial grade strimmer session out on the drive. I got a “bonjour”  from two hikers and a jogger. I had a nod from a passing farmer in his “antique” tractor. I recognise him and his tractor. He probably has the Brits still under surveillance. Perhaps he recognised me.

I have lived the last two decades in the countryside well away from the hustle and bustle. For about fifteen of these I have been unemployed and without a job. A while back I wrote over a hundred job applications which resulted in only five interviews. These were for  Head of Department at a UK Chemistry department, a post doc in Germany, a job at the European Space Agency {ESA}, a job at IMEC semiconductor research institute in Belgium and a tutoring job at an Oxford College. Two job offers resulted both of which went very quickly pear shaped. I had a number of informal “chats”. I pretty much stopped applying for jobs a decade ago.

I am more of a pikey than a boffin…I traded a femtosecond laser for a chainsaw.

In the early part of this century and just after I had moved out of the smoke, I had an urge, prompted by a dream to materialise a Caduceus. A search began at various antique shops, one of which is in Burlington Arcade. It was interesting revisiting my old stamping ground. The people in the jewellers were very nice to me, very helpful. Even though then did not know of my friendship with Anna Wintour. I did not have to name drop once. They listened to me and came up with a number of prototype sketches. This is one of them.

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As it happened I then chanced upon an item which fit my vision. It was weird to feel entirely at home in Burlington Arcade.

A few years later I helped with my first hay harvest. Loading and unloading a hay trailer by hand.

I have been a bit wheezy after the strimming.  My chest is generally good these days.

As a mark of time of life the lung specialist has checked me for antibodies associated with the condition known as farmer’s lung. I have changed ‘hood from posh city to Breton countryside. As a default diagnosis everyone who ever smoked is diagnosed with COPD. The lung doctor found the symptoms not entirely consistent so branched out to an allergic response to moulds and fungus from grass, hay and compost heaps. I do indeed have these antibodies these days but they are not at a high enough level to diagnose.

If you would have told me back then…

I would not have believed….