Only time can tell, where we're going to (Roy Harper)

Photo by Karolis Puidokas on Unsplash

It's Sunday. The week stretches out ahead of me. No one knows what is in store.

I've just finished Great Expectations and the words of Provis (a.k.a. Magwitch) are in my head:

"I was a thinking through my smoke just then, that we can no more see to the bottom of the next few hours, than we can see to the bottom of this river that I catches hold of. Nor yet we can't no more hold their tide than I can hold this. And it's run through my fingers and gone, you see!" holding up his dripping hand.

That's always been one of the great appeals of my job. I never quite know what to expect and there is a thrill in that knowledge.