Moany Moany

No sooner had my beloved got through the door, on return from her volunteer work at Oxfam, than the ‘phone rings and, I finally get to greet her some ten or fifteen minutes later. Mal’s Murmurings has already recorded this afternoon’s telephone confrontation but, some people just won’t give up! Actually, it was a different person from the same company that I had cut short less than two and a half hours earlier but, at least they had come straight to the point on what ‘service’ this woman, from Yorkshire Water Home Services, was trying to sell. Sadly, my beloved is genetically incapable of putting the ‘phone down on unsolicited callers, even though she had explained that she’d just that instant got through the door on return from work.

Unless the quotation, which we are now expecting, dramatically undercuts the extremely competitive rates we are paying for the same services elsewhere, the only response will be to tell them to get stuffed if they insist on making unsolicited calls to our number! Oh what a sweet temperament I have; ma belle and I seem predestined to play out the “good cop bad cop” routine when it comes to unwelcome telephonic intrusions.

As I seem set in the “Grumpy Old Men” mould, I may as well go on to another technological moan. This time the topic is my website Guest Book. I seem to be receiving an increasing amount of spam entries in the guest book; well they don’t actually get into the guest book pages themselves but, I’m getting sick of notifications that I have received an “entry” whose submission I have to “Approve” or “Delete”; online casinos, web pages about supposed celebrities, landscaping services, all of which originate from that home of decadent late-capitalism, the US of A. I’m rapidly coming to the opinion that it’s not worth having a guest book on the site at all. I don’t mind whether submissions are favourable or legitimately critical but, why do these ignorant spamming gits have to waste their time and mine, I’ll never understand!

J.K. Galbraith's Towering Spirit

He challenged the national conscience with a series of thoughtful books, provocative interviews, merry rejoinders and lethal wisecracks. The Bush presidency led Ken to muse aloud that it had caused him to think thoughts that he never thought himself capable of thinking. I asked, "For example?" Ken replied, "I begin to long for Ronald Reagan."
- Arthur Schlesinger Jr.


J.K. Galbraith's Towering Spirit

Nature Unreserved

An (at times) excruciatingly painful back has forced me to reduce my already limited activity and, led me to the role of overseer as my beloved attempts to get to grips with the lawnmower and its height adjustment mechanism. Were I not such a nice guy, I could so easily get used to the role of bully! Whilst Helen carefully manoeuvred the grass cutting implement, I spasmodically used the end of my walking stick to move the trailing lead out of the way of encroaching blades. Although we’ve not been able to fend off the total invasion of the garden by the dark forces of ground elder, we are at least successfully decapitating some of it’s number who dared to encroach on our would be lawn!

At other times, I simply enjoyed the pleasure of relaxing on the bench beside the garden pond with its abundant tadpole population. Regardless of the water’s murkiness, I really find it relaxing watching the Brown Windsor Soup [aka Pond Water] swirl around and away from the water spout. My halo still gleams a little from all my efforts to re-instate the pond-pump. A simple need to ‘do’ something tempted me into applying a further treatment of the pond with ‘SludgeBuster’ but I’m not anticipating any overnight transformation. The water boatmen, skimming the surface, seemed hyperactive today.

It was wonderful, just sitting and relaxing amidst the activity of honey and bumble bees and the occasional sighting of flutter-bys. Today, for the first time this season, we were visited by a Small Copper butterfly by way of a change from the regular welcome trespass of Tortoisehell and Peacock varieties.

All Change

8.15AM, my beloved answers the bedside telephone, to be told the new comfortable chairs are already on their way. Ten minutes later, the doorbell rings, Helen opens the door and, the chairs are brought in. It's so unusual these days to receive such prompt service that one can easily forgive an early morning 'phone call!

Tomorrow morning at 10.00AM the bulky, far too yielding, sofa will be evacuated from these premises, en route to its new home in Starbeck. The new chairs cry out for me to make an impression.

Bliss was it in those days

I have frequently heard that “a little goes a long way” and, I have just realized how much a little incorrect posture lives on in the memory, with constant reminders from a de-conditioned body. Yesterday afternoon, I expended a modicum of energy trimming the roots of a couple more pond plants, bending my spine rather than my knees in the process. Within a very short period, during which I sat on an all too yielding sofa, the base of my spine was most definitely in need of a bit of TLC. The tender loving care was supplied by ma belle amoureuse, as she carefully massaged and applied Ibuprofen Gel to the afflicted area. In the course of the evening, both Ibuprofen and paracetamol tablets were summoned to my aid.

Needless to say, the process of getting undressed was much impaired by my spinal sensitivity. [There, I’ve said it anyhow!] The back proving even more discomforting, as I set off for a routine appointment with my GP, this morning seemed to be crying out for action. I suddenly realized just how frequently I’d felt muscular and spinal twinges after sitting, for any period of time, on the offending comfy (?) sofa. Next port of call was to a furniture shop in town, where my beloved had been trying to lead me for several weeks past, and looked at a comfortably supporting two seater sofa. Having recognized a fellow back-pain sufferer, the proprietor then drew my attention to an upholstered ladder back chair and … wow … comfort and good posture could be sensed immediately. Within the course of the next couple of days we will be taking delivery of a couple of these beautiful and practical items of furniture. There are times when you simply ‘know’ something is right!

Beth and her partner have been ogling our offending sofa for sometime now so, they will be doing us a favour by taking it off our hands. Bliss was it to be young, when an ‘obviously’ comfortable, overly yielding, floppily designed sofa could be taken at seat and bum value without any of the deleterious effects that beset these older bones and sinews.

One Step At A Time

I’ve been carefully monitoring, or at least imagining, the results of my slower paced but more frequent walks, even though it’s really too soon to recognize any signs of significant improvement / regression. A minor part of the theory behind the slower paced walking seems to be less sensory overload; I certainly find that my powers of observation as I walk seem more finely tuned. The earlier breathing discipline, set by the same therapist, seems to enhance my ‘relaxation’ as I perform some of the routine almost unconsciously. Last Thursday evening as I lay back with the magic needles inserted in my limbs, the acupuncturist commented on how well I was “breathing”.

Over the past few days I’ve been able to manage to fit in a few more tasks (moderate exertion) on top of my gentle perambulations. Most mornings are still pretty washed-out events and, I’m still not ready for much socializing but, I generally feel that things are moving in the right direction.

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Going With The Flow

Yesterday, after a slow muzzy-headed start to the day, I almost felt awake by midday. In the afternoon, ma belle Helene collected me and took me over to Anne-Marie’s where I managed to fix a few minor glitches on her PC running Windows ‘95 with MS Office ’97. When it comes to dealing with these minor glitches, I tend to be intuitive rather than knowledgeable in my approach. Having had my halo polished, as reward for my minor efforts, we were homeward bound; unfortunately, come evening I reverted to a state of hollow restlessness. An earlier night seemed to be in order but, even then, I failed to emerge into the new day before 11.00am.

Once I’d managed to remove myself from the duvet’s entanglement, things didn’t seem to improve; an excruciating headache, emanating from the neck and behind the ears, wasn’t exactly the most welcome start to a new day. A general state of restlessness was alleviated, to some extent, by a slow 30 minute stroll with my beloved although, a startling degree of dis-ease remained.

Out of a sense of frustration, I decided to see if I could sort out the longstanding problem with the pond-pump. Where the lead had been re-jointed, on installation, the sealant had somehow allowed water to permeate hence the frequent ‘tripping’ of the switch. Having first cleaned the filters from our filtration unit, replenishing the unit with good bacteria, I attached a plug to the original length of power cable for the pump … et voila … it was working once more after nearly half a year’s idleness! You can’t imagine just how delightful it was to hear the water splashing into the pond; a hybrid of a horse peeing and a swiftly flowing mountain stream.

Next task was to remove the plug once more and, insert the lead through a length of reinforced hosepipe before routing it beneath the edge of the greenhouse to the power source. The assistance of my beloved was invaluable in this and subsequent tasks; we make a great team! With all the rain we’ve had recently, the task of lifting a few sods from the lawn to bury the pipe was far easier than we’d anticipated.

Although I’m currently aching, in muscles of whose existence I was previously unaware, I can collapse back onto the sofa in the sure and certain knowledge that my halo will not need re-burnishing for some considerable time!

Distracted

Yesterday, quite out of the blue, I was under-whelmed by a sense of hollowness and restlessness. A passively negative experience indeed!  As I flicked through the pages of ‘PC Advisor’, checked my e-mails and, surfed the web, nothing seemed to hold my attention; concentration had returned to an all too familiar low. It was almost as if my mind was alert to its own lack of content! And yet, for quite prolonged periods I was all too content. My beloved wrongly surmised that I may be out of ciggys, whilst I misguidedly thought a bit more web-surfing may stimulate some sort of purposefulness to my evening.

Eventually, Mickey, Donald and Goofy in  ‘The Three Musketeers’ provided a little distraction from my distractedness.