Born Anew

Today, I managed a longer brief brisk walk ... i.e.if you don't mind ignoring the 'brisk' and possibly the 'brief' component. My beloved and myself visited a local nature reserve, completing the walk as a circular tour. The "quiet" of the reserve was in such stark contrast to the tragedy unfolding in the Capital's morning.

It's almost as if such tragic events bring out the need to make the most of one's everyday existence. The contrast between the flittering iridescence of the damsel flies, at the edge of the clay pool, and the sooty velvet of the butterflies in the bordering meadow, just opened our eyes afresh to the wonders of nature ... almost like being born anew, certainly refreshed!

The Tyranny of the Violent

What can one say? My thoughts and prayers go out to all the victims, their friends and families, of this mornings bombings in London.

The taking of a life, and the wilful maiming of any individual is in my book an abomination. It is equally abominable whether it be a private act of vengeance, or violence authorised by a state or martial authority.

The real losers in any such act are the majority of humankind as, for the illiberal (both in mainstream and fringe politics) such acts are grist to their mill!

Just Playing Around

Some ten minutes ago I submitted a blog entry and voila ... it's gone. Now, I'll try to recap ... but the memory is fickle ... the thrust of the entry was that I am grateful that the process of blogging is so therapeutic. That must be the reason I bother with it.

Were a stranger to stumble upon this weblog, what would they make of it, the apparent randomness of the entries etc. But, life really is like that ... a stream of discontinuities in search of an organizing consciousness.

Frequently I only discover the topic of a blog entry when it's already a fait accompli. When I approach the blank dashboard I have no idea what thoughts/ events I'm going to comment on or write about. Still, it proves therapeutic; it's surprising what frustrations can be relieved by the odd rant ... even if it's about an unrelated topic. I suppose this approach could be called the Punchbag Blog.

By now you may be wondering why I bother to make the blog public. A perfectly valid question.

One can only communicate from ones-self; it is foolhardy to believe that one communicates with or to a given audience, that is a fortunate by-product when and if it occurs. Meantime, I play about with my own dilemmas in the hope that I am more often able to affirm life than to let the b*gg**s grind me down!

Rudiments of a new poem

CONSULTATION

These visits are
by now routine -
on entering

the lion's den,
expect a smile
and beckoning wave

to take a seat.
Obediently, you sit
and start to contemplate

time's passage.
Words fail, as always,
to express

the visit's
raison d'etre.

Malcolm Evison
5 July 2005

Share The Dis-ease!

Around lunchtime, a rolling thunder of pain spread through my arms, from shoulder through to extremities. It was more like a series of dull thuds rather than any sharp ache, excepting the elbows where the sensation was more akin to 'pain' rather than an ache.

I duly strapped up the elbows and, got on with the minor task of preparing lunch. Whilst listening to the afternoon play, BBC Radio 4, it became essential to tackle the severe discomfort in my left arm, far from a new phenomenon. The only way of regaining any comfort was to hold the upper-arm, tightly clamped to the torso, with the forearm stretched (at a 90 degree angle) across the small of my back with fingers outstretched. After maintaining this posture for about 30 minutes, the discomfort was somewhat alleviated.

The problem is, how does one express this to one's GP in the course of a short consultation? A pattern of shifting muscular and joint pains, ranging from near numbness to acute nagging, even to a state which feels like total muscular exhaustion, is much easier to suffer than express. Perhaps it is part and parcel of the overwhelming sense of fatigue which seems to pervade at least half of all my "waking" hours.

Although I am being treated for depression, I can't help feeling that a more accurate diagnosis would be frustration ... the impossibility of expressing the near inexpressible sense of dis-ease within a brief formal consultation!

One further question arises : is it appropriate, when in consultation with a psychiatrist, to concentrate all the attention on one's physical ailments? I do have a history of depression but, never in the course of my current "treatment" have the symptoms resembled those of any previous bout of the said illness! The physical ailments make it extremely difficult to pursue the social excursions which could prove beneficial were it simply "a state of mind".

IT's ALREADY BEGINNING TO GR8!

So, some French leader, called Chirac, makes a hoary old joke about British cuisine and, the phone lines to The Jeremy Vine Show (currently under someone else's navigation) are red hot with complaints from us Brits. Major crisis for G8!

On the other hand the Smirking Chimp, George Dubya, expresses the view that he's there solely to defend USA's interest, no irate phone calls! Maybe we don't expect anything from morons in any case.

INterDEPENDENCE DAY

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY ... I pray that one day it will become a reality and, the UK will be freed from the pernicious presence of American military and spy bases!

I LONG TO CELEBRATE INTERDEPENDENCE DAY, A DAY WHEN ALL NATIONS CAN TRADE FAIRLY / COOPERATIVELY AND, THE UNSOLICITED INTERVENTION OF SELF-APPOINTED, SELF-INTERESTED, MILITARY WORLD POLICE BECOMES BUT A DIM MEMORY!

For That's My Day Of Rest

After a heavily aching limbed start to the day, sometime after 11.00AM, spent most of the day in suitably relaxed mode. Took one or two photos, both digital and analogue 35mm, of the water lilies in sunshine swallowing mode, before lunch.

Suddenly discovered we hadn't sufficient brown rice to go with the Madras + type dish I'd prepared last evening, so, not for the first time, improvised with a savoury Penne pasta.

After lunch watched some of the Wimbledon men's final ... Federer just makes it all seem so easy ... brilliantly easy!

"Songs Of Praise" from South Africa I found really inspirational; the singing both worshipful and praising. Rarely have I experienced such prayerful voices but, prayer of the right kind ... prayer that knows it gets answers! A real boost to my sometimes flailing, and frequently faltering, faith.

Later in the evening watched, for the first time, '55 Degrees North' and we were both suitably impressed and involved. Thanks to our friend Peter for mentioning this programme on his recent visit. After a brief lull, revisited the film "Wag The Dog" of which I must say "it is disturbingly funny".

Very big thanks goes out to BBC television, all these programmes were viewed on or (in the latter case) recorded from BBC channels.

LIVE 8 and sundry ramblings

Saturday, after a late emergence from the snoozepad, passed remarkably quickly! Really enjoyed dipping into the BBC coverage of LIVE 8 and found myself surprised by the performances that impressed me. To have so many significant performers on one stage in the course of 10 hours is a remarkable acheivement. One can only hope that it's function of consciousness raising has been equally significant! Problem is that the G8 World Leaders are FALLIBLE, and yes ... STUBBORN, HUMAN BEINGS just like you and me. Trouble is, being human means that they're probably JUST AS SELFISH AS YOU AND I and inevitably, to be where they are, they must have a POWER COMPLEX. Chances are, THEY ALSO HAVE A CONSCIENCE ... maybe we can start to MAKE POVERTY HISTORY.

Anyway back to the show: the performances that impressed me most were REM (no surprise there), Madonna (such a knockout performance ... I'm not her Nr.1 fan), Keane, Razorlight and Velvet Revolver. I enjoyed a lot more but, some of my viewing was disrupted by visitors, domestic chores, calls of nature etc. ... but, fortunately I have ten hours of VHS to skim through for the acts I missed.

In the afternoon, we went out for a Strawberry & Cream Tea at Berwick Grange, the Methodist Residential home where my father spent his last few years (from the age of 93 on). It made a pleasant change although, many of the visitors for this fund-raiser turned out to be the same ones who attend the coffee mornings at Helen's Chapel. On return from there, it was apron donning time as I prepared the major part of Sunday's Lunch.

Enjoyed the final episode of the current series of 'Murder In Suburbia', a wonderful lightness of touch and, touchingly human.

I still can't think what happened to the day.

An Evening With Sinna Luvva

Mid-evening, went out for an SP [Slow Plod] which these days seem to have taken the place of the BBW's. Farewell brief brisk walks, welcome the geriatric crawl! In one sense, it's the effort that counts but, what does effort bring .... an even greater one.

A sharp pain in the left knee can be passed off as a "twinge" but, the sustained dull ache which began in the ankles, and then commandeered both shins, is not so easily shrugged off! Every step taken seemed to demand a re-anchoring of the feet but then, the leaden ache attacks the calf muscles. Oh, woe is me! The next attempt to raise the foot, sadly, seems to confirm that the foot was well and truly anchored down.

Such is the nature of my multiple, but varyingly specified, ailments. As Jolson once said "You ain't heard nothin' yet!". As I have no need to remind myself of my growing antiquity, I will spare you further irritating details of premature geriatric decline.

The day has witnessed many moments of enjoyment; time spent with my beloved is always such, as is the garden pond, with lily leaves unfurling and the flowers opening and closing according to the phases of the sun. Have just been watching, for the Nth time, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. It never fails to entertain, escapism pure and simple. My initial intention was to transfer The Apartment to DVD but, after a false start, switched to the purer mode of escape!