Ashing done, although as I type, I can see some of the ash still ever so slightly on the tips of my fingers: a reminder perhaps of my mortality. Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return were words that I repeated a number of times as I was marked and marked by the sign of the cross.

Today is about beginning to slow down and edging towards a pattern for this season. I am also old enough now to know that this pattern will take time, and what worked last year may not work a second time. Then again, maybe it will.

I have nothing in the diary today and tomorrow. I need to learn as I edge towards a pattern not to allow things to miraculously appear in the timetable.

That involves not being busy, which is a key part of a feast.