Another Old Memory

Do you know everyone (or rather, anyone unfortunate enough to be reading this) what I would really like to know is, just how do you write a Blog (or in a Blog) without sounding really boring!?
This problem seriously crossed my mind before I even started this; but having done so, I suppose I can really only just keep going. I have already told you about one particularly boring incident – maybe I was just try to make a point about just how boring – rather ‘conditioned’ by the material world – some people can be.
In contrast to this, can I perhaps tell you about this mundane world (perhaps ‘materialistic’ is a better word) which so many people seem to be trapped in?
Where I live in ‘leafy Highgate’, we have Highgate Woods just across the road. It is a fairly vast expanse of preserved woodland remarkably unchanged since the 18^th century. It has been comparatively ‘modernised’, of course; although it is perhaps more a case of being ‘protected’ from the whims of the local Council and their potential plans for ‘urban development’. That is another story . . .
But just two days or so ago, I was walking in the woods somewhat oblivious to the noisy world which lay only yards away from its outer boundary. It was peaceful – almost tranquil – to get away from the ‘suburban chaos’ outside. (Not that Highgate is even a busy area compared ti the rest of London!). I had some notepaper with me intending to take notes for another article (yes, another one!), when suddenly I heard a distinct voice behind me. “David, David Farrant . . . Well do you remember me?”
I didn’t at the onset actually, but before long an aged face had fitted comfortably into memory. It was an old companion from back in the 1980’s. She reminded me of her name – but I told a ‘white lie’ by making her think that I had remembered it.
Actually, she hadn’t changed much. Its just that I hadn’t been expecting to meet her.
She said she’d long since moved from her own flat (where I’d attended the occasional ‘get together’s) but she was still living very close in the area. We spoke for some 10 minutes or so and I learned her new local address. She invited me for an informal dinner there. And that’s how it was left. Should I go? Or should I just leave the past to take care of itself? These were some of the questions I was pondering as I settled down into a secluded spot to write some notes for my new article.
David