The day has raced away and, it seems like no words are forthcoming. Basically, the last couple of days have borne a theme of tiredness. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not falling asleep all the time, it’s simply that I’ve been lacking sufficient energy to permit myself to seriously tackle any project and, today that seems to have included blog entries.
I suppose the combination of mowing the lawn a couple of days ago and, having an early morning yesterday, requires a bit of overcoming.
So, this is a brief entry to apologise for not having posted one!
- living and frequently struggling with moderate M.E. -
where (bad) health, faith, politics and the joys and troubles of daily life collide.
ME
Friday, September 09, 2005
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Physical Jerks (who grind you down)!
Following on from a necessary early emergence into the world of the day people, tiredness is creeping up on me but, I strive to regain a sense of alertness. Still, it was worth it to get the doctor’s appointment out of the way.
My beloved chauffeuse, on return home, had a quick turn around before heading off to see Beth. Meanwhile, Cathy is here sorting out a few more belongings to take to her nearby home.
No matter what programme’s on Radio 2 today, it’s inevitable that reference is made to the final test match of the current Ashes series. At least it makes a refreshing change from football talk. It seems such a long time since England had a team that didn’t become a source of embarrassment.
During my childhood there was always a real enthusiasm for cricket, especially in the few years I spent in Yorkshire and, I even found myself getting enthused although, in later years, my games/PE teachers did their best to ensure I would never have any interest in sport.
In my early teens, whilst living in Sunderland, I attended football matches more from a sense of tribal loyalty than any interest in the game. Our school game (at Bede Grammar School) was Rugby, which I never understood despite being thrust in to play hooker, or something like that, in our games period. Rugby wasn’t on the agenda at Thirsk Grammar, where my first year at secondary school was spent and, our bully-boy teachers never took the trouble to explain the rules or purpose of the game when I moved school.
Similarly, these same Loughborough trained thugs, held me under water at the swimming pool … “all our pupils swim”… even though there was no swimming pool near the previous school. That was the beginning of a phobia about walking near water be it stream, river or lake, which lasted until I was in my early thirties.
PE was always a bug bear, puny child that I was, and I used to get “punished” for not being able to do press-ups etc. It wasn’t my choice to be non-athletic, nor to have fascist PE instructors.
Incidentally, school days can be the most hellish of one’s life. Admittedly, a village school which I attended for a couple of years had PE/games lessons that I enjoyed; country dancing was our method of exercise there, much more suited to my temperament and disposition.
In a similar manner to the ignorant PE thugs, on the academic side at the same school my examination phobia went totally un-noticed and, as a result I left this high achieving school with two 'O' levels. By the time I reached the grand old age of 28, I went to University as a mature student and, there they recognized my difficulty at coping with crowded examination halls and, arranged for me to do my exams either alone or with a couple of other phobics. As a result I left there with a very good Upper Second honours degree.
One wonders just how many lives are blighted by the schooling system.
My beloved chauffeuse, on return home, had a quick turn around before heading off to see Beth. Meanwhile, Cathy is here sorting out a few more belongings to take to her nearby home.
No matter what programme’s on Radio 2 today, it’s inevitable that reference is made to the final test match of the current Ashes series. At least it makes a refreshing change from football talk. It seems such a long time since England had a team that didn’t become a source of embarrassment.
During my childhood there was always a real enthusiasm for cricket, especially in the few years I spent in Yorkshire and, I even found myself getting enthused although, in later years, my games/PE teachers did their best to ensure I would never have any interest in sport.
In my early teens, whilst living in Sunderland, I attended football matches more from a sense of tribal loyalty than any interest in the game. Our school game (at Bede Grammar School) was Rugby, which I never understood despite being thrust in to play hooker, or something like that, in our games period. Rugby wasn’t on the agenda at Thirsk Grammar, where my first year at secondary school was spent and, our bully-boy teachers never took the trouble to explain the rules or purpose of the game when I moved school.
Similarly, these same Loughborough trained thugs, held me under water at the swimming pool … “all our pupils swim”… even though there was no swimming pool near the previous school. That was the beginning of a phobia about walking near water be it stream, river or lake, which lasted until I was in my early thirties.
PE was always a bug bear, puny child that I was, and I used to get “punished” for not being able to do press-ups etc. It wasn’t my choice to be non-athletic, nor to have fascist PE instructors.
Incidentally, school days can be the most hellish of one’s life. Admittedly, a village school which I attended for a couple of years had PE/games lessons that I enjoyed; country dancing was our method of exercise there, much more suited to my temperament and disposition.
In a similar manner to the ignorant PE thugs, on the academic side at the same school my examination phobia went totally un-noticed and, as a result I left this high achieving school with two 'O' levels. By the time I reached the grand old age of 28, I went to University as a mature student and, there they recognized my difficulty at coping with crowded examination halls and, arranged for me to do my exams either alone or with a couple of other phobics. As a result I left there with a very good Upper Second honours degree.
One wonders just how many lives are blighted by the schooling system.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
An Evening On My Ownsome
My beloved, on return from the hospital, cleared away the grassy residue from the lawn and, whilst in the garden gathered up a few wind-fall apples and, a generous amount of blackberries from the brambles which are colonizing swathes of the garden.
So that's one less task for me; the only other 'gardening' I did was to re-pot an Aloe Vera, taking care not to destroy the fresh outgrowths from its root system. It's really quite amazing, all the plants we've grown from the puny specimen my wife brought home a few months back. Must have inherited the 'green-fingers' from mum!
As Helen has gone out to her local preachers meeting, and Graham (who usually visits on Wednesday evenings) is out commiting acts of charity, I find myself all on my ownsome. There was a time, non-too-distant, when I revelled in my own company of an evening but, a blissful marriage has changed all that: it's sure got a lot to answer for!
Still, I'm enjoying a bit of surfing (web-wise not marine) and the accompaniment of old fashioned steam radio; it takes one back.
Since I began this blog posting, I've had a couple of 'phone calls, one from Beth making arrangements for seeing her Mum (Helen) tomorrow and, the other call from my brother for a more general chat. Oh, what a busy life we lead!
So that's one less task for me; the only other 'gardening' I did was to re-pot an Aloe Vera, taking care not to destroy the fresh outgrowths from its root system. It's really quite amazing, all the plants we've grown from the puny specimen my wife brought home a few months back. Must have inherited the 'green-fingers' from mum!
As Helen has gone out to her local preachers meeting, and Graham (who usually visits on Wednesday evenings) is out commiting acts of charity, I find myself all on my ownsome. There was a time, non-too-distant, when I revelled in my own company of an evening but, a blissful marriage has changed all that: it's sure got a lot to answer for!
Still, I'm enjoying a bit of surfing (web-wise not marine) and the accompaniment of old fashioned steam radio; it takes one back.
Since I began this blog posting, I've had a couple of 'phone calls, one from Beth making arrangements for seeing her Mum (Helen) tomorrow and, the other call from my brother for a more general chat. Oh, what a busy life we lead!
Making Molehills out of a Mountain
At least it’s lovely and cool, and fresh, in the early (for me that is) morning so. I thought I’d go out and test my energy levels. Out of bed by 9.20AM, slightly against my better judgement, decided to tackle the lawn today. About 35 minutes into the task (of mowing) a dose of the wearies caught me out. So, I cleaned up the mower, brushed out the soggy mats of grass from behind the blade and, that was it. Several soggy mounds of severed grass are sprinkled around the lower section of the lawn, looking from the distance like off-colour molehills. If my energy returns, I’ll clear them up later but, I doubt whether I’ll get around to any more cutting!
Anyway, I suppose I ought to count that as an achievement, even though it’s a half completed task. By now I’m quite used to setting my sights a little lower, whatever I tackle!
Anyway, I suppose I ought to count that as an achievement, even though it’s a half completed task. By now I’m quite used to setting my sights a little lower, whatever I tackle!
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Morning has broken ... (and almost dispersed)
A mere eleven hours in bed last night/ this morning, things are definitely looking up. Various minor discomforts kept me awake for some of the time but, once again a good proportion of the night was handed over to the care of Morpheus. It seems a long time now since I was able to manage (or perhaps I wasn't) on four or five hours sleep. Still, it's no use wailing over spilt lactiferous liquid.
It seems like a beautiful morning out there and, Helen has ventured off to do some craft work at the Acorn Centre and will be heading off for a walk with Cathy this afternoon. Meantime, I'd better get on with the preparation of some lunch; see what I can do with some Salmon fillets and a jacket potato!
There was a time, not too long ago that I enjoyed a walk without having to worry about conservation of (limited) energy; who knows, perhaps 'ere long I shall be restored! Here's hoping and praying.
This is the day the Lord has made and, I will attempt to rejoice in it.
It seems like a beautiful morning out there and, Helen has ventured off to do some craft work at the Acorn Centre and will be heading off for a walk with Cathy this afternoon. Meantime, I'd better get on with the preparation of some lunch; see what I can do with some Salmon fillets and a jacket potato!
There was a time, not too long ago that I enjoyed a walk without having to worry about conservation of (limited) energy; who knows, perhaps 'ere long I shall be restored! Here's hoping and praying.
This is the day the Lord has made and, I will attempt to rejoice in it.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Something Fishy
Twelve hours in bed, incorporating at least 8 or 9 hours sleep and, I should be feeling all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. At least I know I’m awake; the only disruption of the night was the usual night sweats and a minor, ‘Gaviscon’ treated, bout of reflux.
One of the White Cloud Mountain minnows has been looking far more pale than I feel so, treatment is under way in the aquarium. It seems to hang in the plants far more than the expected norm but, each time it emerges into the open space its co-inhabitant soon sets to a process of harassment. The problem is, the only solution would be total isolation and yet, somehow that would seem to go against their normal communitarian habits. It seems like the temperament of fish is just as fickle as that of humankind.
One of the White Cloud Mountain minnows has been looking far more pale than I feel so, treatment is under way in the aquarium. It seems to hang in the plants far more than the expected norm but, each time it emerges into the open space its co-inhabitant soon sets to a process of harassment. The problem is, the only solution would be total isolation and yet, somehow that would seem to go against their normal communitarian habits. It seems like the temperament of fish is just as fickle as that of humankind.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Katrina impromptu
An impromptu response to a BBC News Special:
By now we're all used to scenes of catastrophe on our television screens, even to some extent immune to the impact but, somehow the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina still hits one extremely hard. The dilatory response of the federal authorities strikes one as so appalling, in this most powerful advanced nation. The tales of warning signs unheeded and, the way the tragedy has highlighted the enormous wealth gap will, hopefully, lead to some serious conscience stirring in matters of redistribution of wealth and resources. Perhaps that's just wishful thinking, greed and asocial personal wealth accumulation are such an integral priority to the American way of life. Free-market economies are devised to send the weakest to the wall! It is strange how a quirky act of nature has brought politics to the fore!
By now we're all used to scenes of catastrophe on our television screens, even to some extent immune to the impact but, somehow the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina still hits one extremely hard. The dilatory response of the federal authorities strikes one as so appalling, in this most powerful advanced nation. The tales of warning signs unheeded and, the way the tragedy has highlighted the enormous wealth gap will, hopefully, lead to some serious conscience stirring in matters of redistribution of wealth and resources. Perhaps that's just wishful thinking, greed and asocial personal wealth accumulation are such an integral priority to the American way of life. Free-market economies are devised to send the weakest to the wall! It is strange how a quirky act of nature has brought politics to the fore!
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Homecooking!
Having felt quite jaded for most of the day, it didn’t help when the ‘new’ router once again lost its connection on the Ethernet wired PC and, lost a wonderful spontaneous blog entry into the bargain. The strange thing is the wireless connection on my laptop doesn’t have this problem but, my wife’s wireless laptop experiences the same problems! We never had any of these problems with the cheapest on the market ‘wired’ router.
Moan out of the way, my erstwhile jaded day improved at around 5.30pm when I got on with preparations for tomorrows dinner. It’s truly wonderful, the spark of brightness brought into one’s day by the griddle pans sizzle as one throws in a few chicken breasts, sliced onion, mushroom, assorted peppers and tomatoes onto the preheated spices and herbs. The coarsely ground black pepper adds a saliva producing savour to the overheated kitchen, especially when it’s accompanied by the extra sizzle of lashing of lemon juice. It’s amazing how, in the hands of yours truly, these random ingredients are harmonized. Toss the griddle pans content into a rich stock, et voila … two casserole dishes of main course to tide us over the next couple of days.
Next, the par-boiled potatoes are prepared in a garlic, coriander, cumin and herb laden water. At the appropriate time, strain them off and shake and bruise the edges whilst adding a sprinkling of garlic granules, Italian seasoning and Garam masala … leave them to relax until tomorrow’s immersion into the specially spiced olive oil.
Oh, the joys of home-cooking, especially when it’s mine!
Moan out of the way, my erstwhile jaded day improved at around 5.30pm when I got on with preparations for tomorrows dinner. It’s truly wonderful, the spark of brightness brought into one’s day by the griddle pans sizzle as one throws in a few chicken breasts, sliced onion, mushroom, assorted peppers and tomatoes onto the preheated spices and herbs. The coarsely ground black pepper adds a saliva producing savour to the overheated kitchen, especially when it’s accompanied by the extra sizzle of lashing of lemon juice. It’s amazing how, in the hands of yours truly, these random ingredients are harmonized. Toss the griddle pans content into a rich stock, et voila … two casserole dishes of main course to tide us over the next couple of days.
Next, the par-boiled potatoes are prepared in a garlic, coriander, cumin and herb laden water. At the appropriate time, strain them off and shake and bruise the edges whilst adding a sprinkling of garlic granules, Italian seasoning and Garam masala … leave them to relax until tomorrow’s immersion into the specially spiced olive oil.
Oh, the joys of home-cooking, especially when it’s mine!
A Night's Slow Journey Into Sleep
Friday evening, went to the local Brewer's Fayre with ma belle amoureuse. I enjoyed my Lamb & Rosemary Suet pudding with mash potaotoes, peas and carrots though, I must admit, by the time I was finishing it off the cumulative effect of the salt used in the cooking was becoming a bit cloying. Strangely, for a one time salt lover, I never use salt in any of my preparations, preferring a subtle use of herbs and spices to draw out the flavour.
Second mistake of the evening was to have a decaffeinated coffee (1 sugar) on return home; that combined with the aftertaste of my meal produced an unpleasant bout of reflux. After that, the evening improved as we enjoyed a bottle of 'Rocca Colmontano, Marche Bianco IGT, 2003' whilst watching an episode of "Midsommer Murders".
Suddenly, as I got upstairs, shortly before 11.00pm exhaustion and general dis-ease overwhelmed me. Tried various ways, whilst still fully clothed, of lying down and variously contorting my body to find a degree of comfort. By 1.30am I felt sufficiently energised to go and clean my teeth, get undressed, apply medicinal ointments and, get myself into bed. A generally unsettled feel crept up on me once more and, after a few twists and turns - this way and that, gave the effort up as a bad job and found myself heading PC-ward. Better to write about discomforts than it is to put up with them; at least it seems to help!
Second mistake of the evening was to have a decaffeinated coffee (1 sugar) on return home; that combined with the aftertaste of my meal produced an unpleasant bout of reflux. After that, the evening improved as we enjoyed a bottle of 'Rocca Colmontano, Marche Bianco IGT, 2003' whilst watching an episode of "Midsommer Murders".
Suddenly, as I got upstairs, shortly before 11.00pm exhaustion and general dis-ease overwhelmed me. Tried various ways, whilst still fully clothed, of lying down and variously contorting my body to find a degree of comfort. By 1.30am I felt sufficiently energised to go and clean my teeth, get undressed, apply medicinal ointments and, get myself into bed. A generally unsettled feel crept up on me once more and, after a few twists and turns - this way and that, gave the effort up as a bad job and found myself heading PC-ward. Better to write about discomforts than it is to put up with them; at least it seems to help!
Friday, September 02, 2005
Elvis and Me
Finished off the Elvis compilation, this morning, with a selection of significant performances ranging from 1956 to 1977. The last performance was quite painful to watch but, so much of the earlier material demonstrated what an amazingly charismatic person he was. Speaking as a mere 'straight' man, I find it far too easy to acknowlege his tremendous sex appeal and charm; it's no wonder the girls went crazy over him whereas, many of the male popstars nowadays would be considered quite ordinary were it not for the particular 'sex-appeal' granted by the simple fact of fame/ celebrity.
Surprisingly, after 1958, I never paid much attention to the Presley canon; perhaps Hollywood over-exposure didn't permit me to take him seriously. On the other hand, I'd already become a bit of a jazz freak by my mid-teens, so perhaps I quite arrogantly dismissed him on the basis of my 'more mature' aesthetic sensibility!. I can't help the feeling though, that Elvis, in those early days was very much his own person and, one sensed that his 'rebellion' mirrored one's own!.
Surprisingly, after 1958, I never paid much attention to the Presley canon; perhaps Hollywood over-exposure didn't permit me to take him seriously. On the other hand, I'd already become a bit of a jazz freak by my mid-teens, so perhaps I quite arrogantly dismissed him on the basis of my 'more mature' aesthetic sensibility!. I can't help the feeling though, that Elvis, in those early days was very much his own person and, one sensed that his 'rebellion' mirrored one's own!.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)