Inflation : The High Cost of Getting Lost

The letter box goes “clunk” and, lo and behold … “Santa’s Christmas Gift Collection”, a catalogue from comet, has been delivered.

On page 9, a satellite navigation pack is advertised and, the text reads, “never get lost again for under £200!”

does this mean that, in future, it will cost far more, for any one of us, to get lost?

Atonement

Concentration not being what it used to be, I don't get around to much reading these days but, I have become enthused by a recent collection of essays tackling "the myth of redemptive violence" and the (erroneous) Christian doctrine of "penal substitution". It is very much a book dealing with the existential, social & political implications of the Gospel.

Title: "Consuming Passion : Why the killing of Jesus really matters"

Profits before People ... the old, old story

Drink giants' plans to fuel binge Britain · £20,000 bonuses for pub managers who exceed targets · Staff race to sell more shots

I find this ‘story’ in today’s Observer particularly disturbing (especially in the light of my recent posting regarding alcoholism/alcohol abuse).

The X Factor

Some real ‘star’ performances on “The X Factor” this evening. It really was great to see Shayne on top form, he definitely has the ‘X factor’. As I commented last week, Shayne was my tip from the audition phase of the show and, tonight he really proved himself. Journey South were just brilliant natural performers; I suppose it has taken their years of experience to make them so natural. Brenda really took possession of the stage and that personality it’s just irresistible.

A good show all around, even Chico was very watchable. One felt sorry for Philip’s nervousness but, one can only hope he’s not saved by a sympathy vote. The hell of controlling such excessive nervousness could maybe harm his appealing personality… trying to become a ‘star’ can never be an easy journey!

Were I to cast a vote, I wouldn’t know where to begin. All I know is that my beloved would buy an album by Journey South and, I couldn’t raise any objection to that.

Aftermath

Great, I thought, after a late arising and (later still) post-noon shower, no marked ill-effects from yesterday’s Heterocon recorded exertions. Tired, indeed I was (and am) but, not totally exhausted! Come 2.00pm, a few minor aches begin in shoulders and upper arms and, an unsolicited ‘phone call brings out the full force of my fatigue induced tetchiness.

Half-an-hour later, the effort of scrolling the pages on the web becomes slightly discomforting; strangely this discomfort in using my right-hand has led to symptoms causing me to apply a wrist support to the left one. Discomfort has by now returned to the armpits (right and left); as I type this missive one-handedly I am compelled to clasp both upper-arms vertically against my torso.

The re-action to yesterdays lawn-mowing is not what I could have foreseen; at least I am only semi-knocked-out.

Thought For The Day

Having been prompted by yesterday afternoon's radio play (reported by Heterocon), I finally got around to writing to our friend Brian, currently a guest in one of Her Majesty's penal institutions. Whenever I think of Brian, I can't help but consider the words of Phil Ochs "There But For Fortune".

Brian is, tragically, an alcoholic. His prison sentence, as on previous occasions, is alcohol related. Sober, Brian is one of the most gentle and caring people it has been my privilege to know but, when fired up with alcohol violence is an almost inevitable accompaniment. Sadly, there are far too many people around who revel in the prospect of a bit of aggro! Result, a charge of GBH ... having a record doesn't assist one's cause come the search for culpability.

He himself recognizes that he is not nice to know when he has had a drink; he would never impose himself on friends' hospitality when he's fallen off the wagon.

"There But For Fortune": there have been times earlier in my life when I've drunk to excess, resulting in arrest and, even sectioning under the Mental health Act. But, I am fortunate ... I am not an alcoholic, I can enjoy a drink simply for the pleasure of it's flavour; there's not even any risk attached to taking communion (where fermented grapes are the order of the day).

It is pleasing to have got around to writing to him once more, proferring the re-assurance that he is in our thoughts and prayers.

The Appointed Time

Struggled manfully, albeit sleepily, from my bed this morning, ready for the 9.00am visit by my physio. Unfortunately she was unable to keep the appointment as they were so short staffed at the hospital; still, I suppose the early rising discipline may stand me in good stead at some future date!

This afternoon, I kept my appointment with the practice nurse to discuss assistance in quitting smoking but, the first suggested start date for my ‘effort’ coincided with the day work starts on our bathroom refurbishment. Not a good idea! A prescription has been issued for nicotine patches but, the start date will now be 1sr November. I have a bit of reading up to do, in order to plan my strategy …. and, a little voice keeps saying, “is it really such a good idea? You know how much harm quitting caused last rime!”

Last time I relied solely on will-power and, the ‘mental’ ill-effects were accompanied by inexplicable physical ailments. Months later, when I reverted to the habit, physical and mental symptoms were swiftly healed. I really must clarify my reasons for quitting and, discover what the trigger points may be for quitting quitting! One certain factor is to hide my eyes and ears from any media coverage of National No Smoking Day … guess which word the susceptible mind latches on to.

Impending Transformations

How the days fly by when one is having a good/sleepy time. Tomorrow will be my third morning of early arising and, apart from having to catch up on sleep during the day, my last couple of earlier mornings don’t seem to have done too much harm. I have commenced the transfer of some bottles of vino from their bathroom-based cellar as we prepare for the bathroom’s transformation. I don’t think les bouteilles (or at least their content) would appreciate the vibrations.

Monday morning is the time when the workmen come to commence the transforming deed. If only I had the energy, I would seek an external retreat as the work proceeds.

You Can't Get Too Much of a Good Thing

The casserole, prepared Saturday afternoon, stood us in good stead again this lunchtime and proved just as delicious as it was on the first occasion. I'm afraid that today has been even more idle than yesterday, reverting to the norm. I look forward to the day I can report an amazing recovery, meanwhile I continue to rejoice in the love of a good woman and ... in case you're wondering ... I do mean my wife, ma belle Helene!

Consuming Passions

The daylight hours have flown swiftly by on a day that has been much better for me. Oh the joy at having some energy, it has been a rare treat to feel reasonably well for about nine hours. A brief visit to Rossett Nature Reserve was marred only by the fact that vandals had once more destroyed the (sturdy) handrail on the walkway across the wetlands. The time we were there, late afternoon, was just perfect ... the sun being at just the right angle to set off the slowly turning foliage.

The chicken casserole, prepared last afternoon, was most delicious; I had to persist in singing my own praises for a good ten minutes after consuming! Hints of mustard, white wine, paprika and ginger came through its creamy texture, a sensual delight!

Apart from the minor factor of love, Helen's capability as a cook helped me to decide (at a late age) that I was maybe ready to settle down. Little did I realize that, from my sad solitary microwaveable meals, I was soon to develop my current culinary expertise. Even on days when I have to force myself to slave over a hot stove, I can bask in this sense of creative achievement on an otherwise non-productive day.

Our friend, and surrogate son, Graham took the picture above of ma belle amoureuse et moi at the nature reserve.