Life's Not Always A Breeze

Another humid, airless, cloying kind of day. Got to admit, although it may be nice to see the sun, it does my various minor ailments no favours. Later evening it becomes almost bearable to venture out, enjoy a sneaky wisp of breeze sat by the pond ... that's the theory anyway but, that hint of breeze seems rather elusive!

Good Morning Sunshine

The heat, or was it the "work", certainly took its toll on my sleep pattern! What pattern you may well ask? Alright, start again; the heat took its toll on my usual erratic sleep patten. Being extremely restless, when retiring shortly after the witching hour, my body and mind (in apparent co-ordination) decided to get out of bed for a hot drink, some nicotine and, a couple of hours web-surfing. The, (by now)normal, aches and pains, seem to have been exacerbated by the persistent ineradicable coating of perspiration.

Give me a few hours and I may even begin to feel awake, rather than the current trance-like state of auto-pilot typist! The discomfort, in the armpits and upper arms, does actually confirm that I am to some degree conscious!

Good morning sunshine!

The Day's Bulletin

On emerging from a rather lengthy lie-in, quickly realised that it was going to be too hot to attempt one of my BBW's (brief brisk walks). From around 4.00 pm, it was nice to relax near the pond in the shade of a parasol & shrubbery. Around 6.30pm, actually tackled a modicum of gardening which at least provides some of the necessary exercise quotient. By the time I got back into the house my lower limbs were already feeling the strain, manifesting itself both in the leaden-ness of movement on the stairs and moderately sharp pain in each knee.

Further time on my feet was necessary, as I enjoyed preparations for tomorrows lunch. These days, I find cooking a wonderful creative outlet but, I must admit to not liking the heat of the kitchen.

Radio and TV news bulletins were, as expected full of the aftermath of Thursday's bombings; it must be horrendous for those people still awaiting news of friends and relatives. As my thoughts and prayers go out to all involved, I also remember all the suffering people in Iraq; the destroying or maiming of any human life is equally abhorrent no matter where, or who the perpetrators may be.

And So On With The Show

It's not often that I can admit to a good belly laugh but, this evening television did us proud. We even found one or two reasonable laughs in CSI (Crime Scene Investigation), the convention for people who enjoy dressing up as animals provided an intriguing background to tonight's investigation. Switch then from Channel 5, across to BBC2 for Grumpy Old Men ... that programme always manages to touch on several of my pet hates! Slightly later, on BBC1, the highlight of our evening was, by far, Ardal O'Hanlon on Jack Dee Live AtThe Apollo. I'd almost forgotten just how hilarious good stand-up can be; , it certainly leaves one with a welcome glow. What a gift, to see the absurd in the perfectly ordinary!

The lesson I've learnt is not to take life too seriously.

Excuses In Advance

Although, at times, the calf muscles felt more like sodden loo-rolls, once again managed to put in a slightly longer walk, this time to meet my beloved at the Acorn Centre. Other ailments include a severely aching right elbow, making it's presence far more obvious within the past twenty minutes or so.

But life tastes sweet and, I'm determined to make the most of it. Wonder of wonders, I even managed to arouse myself from my slumbers before 9.40AM. Is this a record? No ... not quite ... but I do feel quite righteous!

Maybe, if this 'improvement' keeps up, I'll soon be able to make use of my grandiosely named Studio and actually produce a few new paintings. It's bound to feel quite strange after concentrating recent efforts on computer graphics programmes. But ... you can hear the excuses creeping up on you ... if I get back to my painting perhaps the recent nudgings of the poetic muse will fade away. A muse is always hard to resist but, it is tempting at times to yell .. "get thee behind me!"

Strange, that I should already be preparing the excuses before the creativity has properly gotten under way. I look forward to reporting progress.

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".