It being spring and the weather getting better you find yourself going out a bit more to others (the French call this the other, as though all contacts were emblematic and of the same type) . In this spirit I realise that in the last couple of weeks I have sent emails to people I have not seen for many years. They were prompted by chance moments; re-reading a poem I associated with someone; seeing the job title of someone I used to know randomly somewhere. From the three emails I have winged out (modern people call this reached out, don’t they?) I have received no response. I reached out and they were non-respondants. It could be that they simply want nothing to do with me. I am a poor memory. It could be that they are unhappy with themselves. What have I become? they think when my face pops up from nowhere as a cookie in their mind. I don’t really want to parade my older self to this person from the past. Fair do’s to all concerned, I suppose. I am a notorious getter-in-toucher. I am liable to just pop up on your doorstep; stick my nose into a complicated family situation. I actively cultivate being blithely oblivious. Hats off to me.

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