Setting The Pace

This morning the sun shone and, I was almost up with the proverbial larks. Arising from my slumber lair never seems an easy option but, apart from the sunshine, there was another reason; I eagerly anticipated a Special Delivery from the postal service, an additional DAB Radio and delivery was promised before 1.00PM. As my beloved would have already set off for work, shortly after 8.00AM, I thought it safer to ensure that I would be alert to any ring of the doorbell (or even a feeble tapping on the door). Having just donned my dressing gown, the doorbell rang and, my beloved (not yet ready to depart) received and signed for the aforementioned package. Surprisingly I did not revert to the duvet lair!

I suppose that the early arising wasn’t a complete waste of time as, it ensured that  I didn’t overstay my allocated span au lit and, last evening I retired somewhat earlier than the norm to my bedchamber. Ideally I should go to bed (and arise from same) at a regular time and, last night was a substantially earlier venture up the little wooden hill. Some days it seems a real struggle to remove myself from the duvet’s grasp after a mere ten hours but, it hasn’t required quite so great an effort as I had imagined when the prescription was set. A little morning sunshine makes it easier still!

For a few better days energy-wise, I give thanks. Now for the halo-polishing; before lunchtime and, indeed, before I’d partaken of any breakfast I found myself baling out a few buckets of water from the garden pond, the level having risen to not far short of the surrounding paving. Next, I removed and utilized three more bucketfuls of the liquid to rinse out the sponges from the filtration unit.

A bowl of cereal later found me back in the garden, wheely-bin in tow, for the thankless* task of removing some patches of ground elder and yellow loosestrife; the objective, to rescue a few choking plants, granting them space to breathe and access to light. The recent excessive rain showers proved a great enabler to the removal task but, I’m all too well aware, *one never manages to clear the whole root network. I’m afraid that the ground elder has not only taken over the garden borders but, it also manages to encroach on the lawn, an amazing guerrilla force successfully reclaiming the land it feels is it’s birthright.

Come mid-afternoon, I even managed to take a little walk (all my ownsome). I’m going through a kind of phase when one begins to feel guilty at being able to participate in such normal activities. Pacing is all and, I am learning when to cry “enough!”      

Grey Visitor

He perches, in sparkling eyed contemplation of the goal. Like some celebrated stylite, he squats on his post, oblivious to the hostile elements. My stare intrudes upon his gaze; defiance resonates across the intervening space. And then the sudden leap, a precarious landing on the ridge; teeth bared he taps against the meshwork tower, seeking nutrition.

Losing his grip, he hastily takes flight, back to the stepping stone beam (the garden fence’s parapet) and, suddenly a sure footed spring onto the post. I stare at him, he glowers back at me, brush-tail twitching. I sense a mood of defiance; he leaps once more onto the bird tables ridged roof but, struggles to manoeuvre himself into position on the covered plateau.

Aware of his current instability, retreat to the fence seems inevitable. His eyes gleam as he eyes the target once more. He steels himself for what turns out to be a futile exercise. In the glistening wet plastic roof he has met his match; he flounders and falls into the sodden undergrowth.

Bedraggled, he climbs the austere fence, tail curled in discomforted posture, shakes vigorously and, it’s like taking a shower in reverse. Beads of water propel themselves from body into air.  Straightening his tail, disconsolate, he beats a retreat along the wooden parapet.  

Polishing My Halo

Having spent some time, this morning, soaking up the joyous scene of sparrowlets anticipating a little treat for their stomachs, the garden was later visited by the young offspring of both starlings and blackbirds. The observation of their antics is a joy in itself. Whoops, there I go again exposing the cracks in my hard-bitten veneer!

As the day progressed, I actually motivated myself to perform some of my husbandly chores. Having recently wax polished the top of our antique writing desk, I thought it about time to apply the same graft to the archaic dining table. So far I’ve managed to (almost) complete two-thirds of the surface. The application of the pure beeswax / carnauba wax polish isn’t too much of an effort but, having left it for the required 30 minutes before buffing is when the hard work begins. So far I’ve been buffing it up for about 35 minutes but, a great deal more elbow grease will be required before the task is completed to my satisfaction.

By way of a break from this routine, I decided to prepare Sunday lunch, a spiced honey minced lamb casserole. The act of food preparation sans recipe I find to be therapeutic and, my beloved finds the act of consuming my lovingly prepared dishes equally therapeutic. I’m so pleased that she recognizes real quality on the cuisine front!

Between times I even managed to dub an odd VHS recording to DVD; thankfully the electronics take care of that act, freeing me up to get on with my labours, all I need do (once the process is set in motion) is remember to stop the recording at the appropriate time. Mind you, my concentration being as shot as it so frequently is, the act of remembering could prove a chore!

I’m currently relaxing, listening to the Zubin Mehta / Israel Philharmonic Orchestra ‘live’ recording of Mahler’s Second Symphony … I rejoice in this day the Lord has made.

An Evening with the Boss

Once again, I’m full of gratitude for Auntie Beeb. Having watched ‘Have I Got News For You’ (BBC1) at 9.00 – 9.30pm, a bigger treat was in store on BBC4 at 10.00pm … two hours of the Boss … the first hour was of last weeks concert, with the Seeger Sessions Band, which I have now recorded to DVD and, I’m currently enjoying the European TV premiere of Springsteen's concert with the E Street Band, filmed at Hammersmith Odeon in 1975. What have I done to deserve such treats? He really is the Boss, a great performer with his heart in the right place.

This morning, I only allowed the lure of duvetdom to detain me for ten minutes over my freshly stipulated bed-rest limit (10 hours). For much of the morning I only felt approximately the same fatigue as I experience after my more marathon sleep sessions. I’ve certainly not felt sufficiently energized to take a shower.

Playing about with a new, to me at least, PC programme for building Flash-based Websites, enabled me to stay reasonably alert, and temporarily ward off the lure of the Sandman, during the afternoon. I even summoned up the energy to take a twenty-five minute walk with my beloved when she returned from the Acorn Centre. The most exhausting part, of this exercise, was the five to ten minutes when we stopped to have a chat with a mutual friend; standing takes so much more out of one than walking! Back in the house, I temporarily reverted to a crab-like gait as I ascended and descended the staircase.

At teatime, having recovered (to some degree) from the preceding exertion, I took on my chef’s persona as I prepared some char-grilled salmon, lightly crusted in spice and herbs, served with jacket potatoes topped with mixed grilled peppers, tomatoes and mushrooms. Although I say it myself, it was quite exquisite; I can’t help but be honest about my unique creations.

Saving Secular Society -- In These Times

Interesting article on the growing power of the evangelical right stateside.
Saving Secular Society -- In These Times

The Cold Light of Day

The words are expressed so gently, sensibly, and realistically, that one scarcely recognizes the harsh reality that underpins them! But, in the cold light of a new dawn, the bitter truth strikes home; I have lain and tossed and turned in the duvet realm for nine hours and fifty-nine minutes and, now is the moment of truth.

Under the strict new regime, initiated by the sainted Julie of Chronic Fatigue Services, one must strive to avoid periods in excess of 10 hours in bed. Stiff-necked and aching hipped, I roll myself off the mattress; slowly I insert my arms into the velour sleeves of my dressing gown and, stumble down the stairs for a quick nicotine fix (a medicinal dose to overcome the trauma of this early morning endeavour). I venture back up the wooden hill, adopt a semi-recumbent posture on the bed as I apply emollient to the lower limbs. So far so bad but, I even manage to fit myself up in daytime garments and resist the urge to lie down for a further period of rest.

On paper, the routine stinks of reasonableness and, I approve of its goal! A slowly returning normality is not a prize to be scoffed at and, I am still encouraged to take necessary rests; just like the Inquisition, although the rack may be more subtle, the aim is the salving of my soul.

Fighting the Elements

As the day has remained miserable and gloomy, solely weatherwise I hasten to add, just felt like adding a little more sunshine blossom!

Stray Thoughts

After my recent sparkling days, as the weekend approached I veered back into my usual regimen of idle days. My return to inactivity, thus far, isn’t accompanied by the intense frustration of the pre really good days and, I have managed to take a couple of leisurely walks to grab some photos of the blossom on The Stray. No doubt the rain of the past couple of days will have devastated that glorious scene, so it’s just as well I managed the straywards meander when I did!

It does seem that my ‘pacing’ is starting to come together but, I also recognize the necessity of taking the occasional opportunity to stretch those self-imposed limitations. At times, as in the past few mornings, the body finds its own way (various discomforting symptoms) of telling one to exercise a little caution.

Apple Blossom Time

Just thought I'd go out into the garden and couldn't resist taking a couple of 'snaps'.

Just an ordinary day

Just another ordinary day and, I’m on the road again. The roads seem unfamiliar but, the routine seems unchanging. Grasped by anticipation of future events, it feels like I’m being pulled along this particular route. A crowd gathers at the foot of a hill and I find myself wondering what the big attraction is; all eyes turn towards me, as yet I’m unable to determine whether hostility or admiration motivates their gaze.

Next thing I remember is the multi-stranded steel cable tied around my waist. Slowly I stumble up the hill; a passenger train rumbles behind me and, my exertion seems to supply its only motive power. So, that must be the reason for the cable; my task is to pull this train to the top of the hill.

When I reach the summit, my employer awaits me angered by my late arrival and, an argument begins. I threaten to flatten him, assuring him that it wouldn’t be a problem if only I was fit …

The bosses’ gargantuan hulk leaps from behind the bar (or is it his desk?), a strange confusion of guilt and anger accompanies my sense of panic.

Next thing I know, I’m awake and, it slowly dawns that it’s just one more of the night’s dream sequence. It’s the supra-ordinariness of these dreams that makes them so disturbing.