Creature Discomforts

Physically, or should that be mentally, this has not, so far, been one of my better days. For almost inexpressible reasons (see The Absurd Touch of Normality) I have not been having major fun, boring visitors to my blog with tidbits of *wisdom/ *unwisdom, nonetheless I urge you to note how nobly (I nearly said manfully but, that could be misconstrued as sexist) I cope.

Once upon a time, Sinna Luvva inhabited a world where he didn't find it necessary to think or harp on about his health; oh, where has that Shangri-La, or should it be Brigadoon, vanished to? I throw away allusions to maintain a veneer of urbanity! Anything is easier to cope with than reality ... perhaps that's why Jesus in the garden wanted his 'Father' to take away the cup.

What's needed now are fresh stratagems, to meet head on the daily routine. I proffer up my orisons for help and then, seek to withdraw them for fear of being thought selfish. Why can't I bravely accept the role of coward! In my Gethsemane, I seek your prayers.


* delete as appropriate

Anti-Phishing Toolbar

If anybody out there is interested in a useful anti-phishing toolbar, which these days can be seen as a necessity, you could do worse than downloading the Netcraft Anti-Phishing toolbar ! It's available as a free download in versions for both IE and Firefox. [I have experienced one or two minor glitches using IE but so far no problems on Firefox]. It displays hosting locations and risk ratings for every web site visited.

Phil Ochs re-visited - a birthday treat

Already having "All The News That's Fit To Sing" and "I Ain't Marching Any More" (on both CD and vinyl) it was really good to listen to Phil Ochs "Live In Vancouver 1968" (CD) this afternoon. The songs, and the performance, have lost none of their bite or (more sadly) relevance through the intervening years! That tingle down the spine is still part of my response.

Not exactly 'celebration' music for my birthday but it struck so many chords (forgive the pun)!

This evening we watched a couple of episodes of "Spaced" and enjoyed a nice glass of "Pignoletto Frizzante". Finished the evening with a viewing of "Hercules"(the Disney animation) having also dipped into a couple of my other birthday CD's.

Festive Fayre

'Tis the 61st anniversaryof my birth today but, for some obscure reason, it has not been declared a national holiday. The days celebrations started in the now time-honoured manner (of almost every day); what can be more fitting to commemorate a gracious gentleman's birthday than a lie-in. [Don't get me wrong, the "lie-in"is not a festival of untruth saying, merely stopping in bed a while to catch up on some (always) much needed rest].

Once rescued from the duvet's lair by my knightess, la belle dame avec some mercy - ma belle amoureuse, visited the hospital for some blood tests and returned home for twenty minutes before heading off to the local Brewer's Fayre for lunch. The pork steaks with BBQ sauce were much appreciated by this couple of Darby and Joans!

By this time we were well into the afternoon of this favoured day, time to open the presents; wines from Italy and Australia, CD's of Phil Ochs "Live in Vancouver", Count Basie and, Billie Holiday, a collectors edition DVD of "SPACED" (for those not familiar with this wondrous TV series, it features and is written by Simon Pegg of "Shaun of the Dead" fame) gift vouchers and cheques. I've just got so much to be grateful for with friends and family that, in a way, the gifts are simply the tinsel added to a privileged life.

Plus ca change

The nicotine in the bloodstream seems to have had a benificial effect on my temperament. Is that what I really believe or, is it a justification for weakness? Such possibilities are touched upon, but in a broader context, by Heterocon.

One day isn't a good test, in any case, my moods and sense of well-being seem to be extremely fickle these days.

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Whilst the fish in the pond continue to thrive, our aquarium is now down to two occupants despite the care and attention lavished upon the colony. You win some and lose some. C'est la vie!

A Broken Spirit and A Wearied Flesh

That's it, after yesterday's ropey day (recorded by Heterocon) and an even worse night, the will has finally broken. At 14.00 hours, Sunday 12 June, went to buy my first pack of cigarettes (and lighter) in more than seven months. Could no longer cope with the dis-ease of the body, or the tension and anger of the spirit. One certain factor is that the new medication doesn't suit me or, if it does, I'm struggling to give it time to settle in. Patience is a virtue that seems to drift, nay it runs ... scarpers ... away from me!

The first cigarette, on the way back from the local co-op tasted , to be honest, indifferent but none the less welcome. I hate the thought of money going up in smoke; I resent supporting these destructive corporations who manufacture and merchandise these defiling tobacco sticks and yet, all ethical considerations are tossed to one side in the hope of experiencing that "rush" as the nicotine enters the blood-stream.

For the last couple of months my throat and mouth have managed to taste like a nicotine and alcohol hangover, each morning, even though the former is in absentia and the latter very moderately represented.

I have no excuse, apart from weakness. For the moment life sucks but, who knows ... I do still recognize my good fortune in terms of family and friends.

A Shift In the Balance Of Power (or Tales Of A Tail)

Strange, the scale of re-ordering involved in a weight gain scenario! Before leaving my most recent employment I was becoming concerned at the weight loss from my already reasonably slender frame but, since that time, I've put on at least 35lbs (most of that since quitting smoking at the tail-end of 2004).

This is the point where we get into tales of re-distribution , or shifts, in the balance of power. Such a wierd and wonderful sense of humour dear Mother Nature possesses, sometimes carefully balancing changes anterior and posterior ... stomach and butt!

As the belly begins to fold nicely over the waist band, the butt protrudes like an invitation to some (lower)primate ritual of romance![oh why should I fancy my chances so much?]

No Longer Wild but not quite Cultivated!

A generally quiet ( though clammy) day with little exertion, either physically or mentally required. If there had been any demands, of an exertion requiring nature, I doubt whether I could, or would have responded!

Despite the slow rate of progress on the pond's green-water clearing, it's inhabitants are thriving; from bloodworm (a wonderful food source for) seven goldfish ... Tag, Babe, Blaze, Blondie and the triplets ... and the many itinerant frogs, the reeds and marginal plants, and an abundance of assorted insects.

The nest box echoes to the twittering of some young bluetits, drawing the attention of the neighbourhood cats to their presence but, it's only a limited amount of interference (in terms of protective measures) that we can rightly offer.

This evening I proudly invented a new salmon and rice dish, for the sustenance of ma belle amoureuse et moi ... not for the wildlife (Well, in another sense, I think my wildlife days have passed!). A nicely chilled bottle of 'Chateau du Carpia', Bordeaux 2003, calls out for my attention so, I must bid the blog farewell for the present!

A TYPE OF GETHSEMANE

After a rather troubled night's sleep recorded by Heterocon, my beloved really had to make an effort to get me out of bed and to the hospital for my blood tests. That was three hours ago and, still, I'm not properly awake. The positive to come out of the experience is that my first new poem, in some considerable time, has started to take shape. This is how it reads at present :

A type
of Gethsemane.
Not so much the pain –
more the agony.

Not the absence
of sleep –
more the ache;

an ache which penetrates
each sinew. If only
one had slept

like others do.
Oh, how you’d love
that luxury. Wait

for the next event –
everything burns,
each pore secretes
anxiety. Has it

all come to this?
Who knows
what follows
the restless night.

Malcolm Evison
09 June 2005 (third draft 11.36am)

The Day's Embrace

"Hullo There"; no, you're not deluded - yes, it's me, talking to myself at this unearthly hour. No, I don't have any excuse. I know it's positively indecent to have raised myself from my bed, to get a glass of water, at this unearthly hour!

For all my dread of moving on to the higher dose of Zispin (mirtazapine), fearing a totally zombified state, after all the recent hypnotic trance states, I am actually wide-awake. This could simply be that I have not properly been to sleep, as I know I have to be up early to prepare for an 8.00am appointment with my GP.

Having entered the embrace of duvet-land before midnight, I anticipated deep hypnotic sleep instead of which I dozed spasmodically! The body entered one of those ultra-sensitive states where any slight movement or touch made me feel totally discomfited; a kind of mild cringing nausea.

So, that's my excuse for being up at this unearthly hour, what about you?

Good morning all!