Cultural references rarely cross well between cultures. Similarly some are age group specific. I am sure that many of mine would lead balloon with the youth. This morning the GP suggested to the wife {during her appointment}  that my upcoming appointment on Friday was not necessary and that there were people who were more needful. Probably true. So we cancelled the appointment to free it up for others. The stiff upper lip, not making a fuss, just a flesh wound mentality may not have crossed her mind. It is not rational to think like that. Couple that with my introversion seeking to avoid unnecessary social contact and…I am not important.

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What is a disaster and end of the world to some is just a flesh wound to others. I am not keen on arguing. I am already assuming that we will drop a number of lines of inquiry in the health saga. They are frills rather than life threatening. The cardiologist has said that there is an inexplicable part of my ECG that warrants further investigation, which will in due course be done. From the write up he has gotten the wrong end of the stick about our conversation. This miscommunication happens a lot here. My non-expert clinical judgment is that it is not a big deal. I am making that judgement call.

This morning’s dream had a wounded dog in it. Dogs are the dreaming symbol for friendship and loyalty. The dog gets killed by a pine marten. Because of my itinerant childhood, I have no strong sense of spatial belonging, I do not belong to a place. When people ask where I am from, I can say my birth city, Cardiff. I have a sense of home in the village of my ancestors at Beddgelert though I never lived there and a sense of childhood in Mount Isa, Queensland. That is my last stable child-memory.

The longest time I have ever spent anywhere was when I worked at Imperial College, 13 years. I have no fond memories (smoking excluded) of my time there which was largely a struggle and I have no loyalty to that institution. When we watch University Challenge, I do not egg the Imperial team on.

I have one personal loyalty and friendship only. I certainly don’t feel British, Welsh yes. I feel more Southern Hemisphere in outlook.

I know that I am a migrant here. It does not feel ex-pat, it feels migrant. I am not socially integrated here and nobody has done anything to secure my loyalty. The sense of being partially tolerated is what I feel / experience.

As things are customarily measured, I have no friends outside of this house. I owe nobody allegiance or loyalty and nor do I demand it of anyone, nor do I feel owed any loyalty by anyone.

We have invested a lot of sweat into the house and land here, but I don’t “belong” here though it is home. The other day whilst awaiting my colonoscopy I looked out the hospital window at the hillside there. It did not draw me, pull me and say belong. I suspect our time here draws to a close. If I am honest, I am marginally disappointed with my fellow Celts. There have been exceptions like the mole catcher.

I do feel more European than British, but in a pan-national sense.

Loyalty is a weird word. I do not know what it means and rarely have I experienced it towards me.

Woof…