A bright sunshiny morning greeted me on my emergence into the world of the day people. My beloved was already out in the garden, doing her best to disentangle ground elder roots from those of desirable plants. I loyally sat and observed her exertions from the pond-side garden bench, with only the slightest modicum of guilt!
That disturbing guilt potential proved sufficient for me to access the lawnmower in the top shed and, lop the tops off the ground elder that had begun encroaching on the lawn. Ten minutes effort was sufficient at this early hour as my body issued a muted scream at the prospect of further exertion. At least that ensured that I was sufficiently energised to prepare, and consume, lunch before venturing down to the Chronic Fatigue Unit for my appointment with Julie.
The hospital was ten minutes walk from where we parked the car providing me with a little more exercise. As we arrived at the hospital we met Helen, my physio / acupuncturist and Patrick, a physio who had worked on the ‘Food For Thought’ course that ma belle attended a couple of years back. The meeting with Julie was productive, as always, allowing some scope for modifying my pacing activity.
On our return home, I made a start on splitting and re-potting some Aloe Vera plants, before accidentally coercing my beloved into re-organizing the greenhouse (from its sad state of chaotic desuetude). In the course of this ‘spring cleaning’, a startled Helen recoiled from an unexpected resident, a rather large yellow frog who startled by her presence leapt towards the corner. Another similar, in size and colouring, creature joined the first to cower in the corner before hiding amongst sundry plant pots and seed trays. The speed, with which they manoeuvred around the cluttered space, was quite astonishing; much too fast to catch in one’s hands. They chose to leap any direction other than towards the door. Eventually, a large pond-net provided a solution; unfortunately it was difficult to explain to the amphibians that I was trying to help!
No sooner had the yellow two been despatched to the undergrowth near the pond, when a smaller olive green amphibian made its presence felt in the greenhouse. This little critter seemed quite determined not to be rescued but, the (by now) experienced netter was able to release him into the big wild garden, after a brief battle of wills.
It really is quite wonderful to have this wildlife right on our doorstep.
- living and frequently struggling with moderate M.E. -
where (bad) health, faith, politics and the joys and troubles of daily life collide.
ME
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
The Weariness of the Short Distance Walker
Energy levels have not yet restored themselves to what I assumed was becoming my new norm; a sense of weary frustration hung over my day although, I delighted in watching young birds (primarily blackbirds, starlings and sparrows) being fed in different parts of the garden. My suspicion is that my pathetic power of concentration is at the root of the frustration, alongside my restricted activity.
On the work front, I managed to rinse out the filters from the pond filtration unit, and topped up the water level after previous overenthusiastic baling out activity. Later in the day, I managed to take a twenty plus minute walk.
At present, limiting myself to ten hours bed rest per night / morning is proving rather difficult and, I’m really nervous about allowing myself “forty winks” during the day, even when I need it, because of my propensity for going into overtime!
On the work front, I managed to rinse out the filters from the pond filtration unit, and topped up the water level after previous overenthusiastic baling out activity. Later in the day, I managed to take a twenty plus minute walk.
At present, limiting myself to ten hours bed rest per night / morning is proving rather difficult and, I’m really nervous about allowing myself “forty winks” during the day, even when I need it, because of my propensity for going into overtime!
Monday, May 29, 2006
Sunday, May 28, 2006
A Little Stumble
Is it quite simply that I’m not sufficiently attentive to my body’s requirements or, are the signals transmitted by the aforementioned ‘heap of sensations’ deliberately muffled? This question is posited from the shattered state in which yours truly finds its being. In recent days I have started to take progress for granted, yesterday being no exception.
So, what went wrong? If I knew the answer there would be no need to ask the question. Saturday morning I felt unusually alert and, ventured out into the garden, shortly after 10.00am, to do a little necessary tidying up. One hour later, I quite sensibly called a halt to these exertions and returned to the house for a little rest. In the early afternoon, my beloved and I strolled down to the local Brewers Fayre for a relaxed lunch and, by the time we returned home, knew that I’d had sufficient exercise for the day.
Preparation of Sunday lunch occupied best part of an hour, late afternoon / early evening but, by then the aching weariness was beginning to set in. An early night was definitely called for; it was almost as if shutters kept falling in front of my eyes, a blanket kept muffling my ears, and the world became a floating blur. I think it must have been the quickest I’ve ever managed to transform myself from fully clothed to bed-resting Malcolm. Such was the need for sleep that I fought my weariness, as I undressed, the sooner to immerse myself in the duvet lair.
From the exhaustion came forth … not sleep … but rather a tortuous aching void, a kind of spontaneous depression, a turbulent restlessness. Far too tired to sleep, everything seemed rather pointless as I was unable to pinpoint the source of my complete psychosomatic dis-ease! S-H-A-T-T-E-R-E-D, I couldn’t bear to be touched, even though one of life’s greatest pleasures is being cosily snuggled with ma belle; it was almost as if my body was an alien being, totally unrelated to my stupefied brain.
After a while, I arose from my bed, hazily stumbled down the stairs, my beloved following in concerned protectiveness, wandered through the kitchen to the stable-door for a nicotine fix. When in turmoil, grab a cigarette! The nicotine was followed by a mug of chamomile tea and, a laboured re-ascent of the wooden hill. On return to bed, the invasion of the night-sweats began, even before I’d gotten off to sleep. It seemed inevitable that they would return to disrupt my snoozes and, as is its wont, the inevitable occurred!
Hopefully, things can only get better; I look through bleary eyes at the sun’s reflected shine on the clouds and thankfully, I rejoice in this day the Lord has made.
So, what went wrong? If I knew the answer there would be no need to ask the question. Saturday morning I felt unusually alert and, ventured out into the garden, shortly after 10.00am, to do a little necessary tidying up. One hour later, I quite sensibly called a halt to these exertions and returned to the house for a little rest. In the early afternoon, my beloved and I strolled down to the local Brewers Fayre for a relaxed lunch and, by the time we returned home, knew that I’d had sufficient exercise for the day.
Preparation of Sunday lunch occupied best part of an hour, late afternoon / early evening but, by then the aching weariness was beginning to set in. An early night was definitely called for; it was almost as if shutters kept falling in front of my eyes, a blanket kept muffling my ears, and the world became a floating blur. I think it must have been the quickest I’ve ever managed to transform myself from fully clothed to bed-resting Malcolm. Such was the need for sleep that I fought my weariness, as I undressed, the sooner to immerse myself in the duvet lair.
From the exhaustion came forth … not sleep … but rather a tortuous aching void, a kind of spontaneous depression, a turbulent restlessness. Far too tired to sleep, everything seemed rather pointless as I was unable to pinpoint the source of my complete psychosomatic dis-ease! S-H-A-T-T-E-R-E-D, I couldn’t bear to be touched, even though one of life’s greatest pleasures is being cosily snuggled with ma belle; it was almost as if my body was an alien being, totally unrelated to my stupefied brain.
After a while, I arose from my bed, hazily stumbled down the stairs, my beloved following in concerned protectiveness, wandered through the kitchen to the stable-door for a nicotine fix. When in turmoil, grab a cigarette! The nicotine was followed by a mug of chamomile tea and, a laboured re-ascent of the wooden hill. On return to bed, the invasion of the night-sweats began, even before I’d gotten off to sleep. It seemed inevitable that they would return to disrupt my snoozes and, as is its wont, the inevitable occurred!
Hopefully, things can only get better; I look through bleary eyes at the sun’s reflected shine on the clouds and thankfully, I rejoice in this day the Lord has made.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Marking Time
After a seemingly interminable grey damp day, come early evening the sun finally broke through and, I ventured out with my ma belle Helene for a little amble around the local roads. I’m sure the weather affects our energy levels, or at least I prefer to reason that way, rather than worry that I may have overdone it on Tuesday. Of course I know that I’m much too wary, and idle, to overdo it on many occasions; as Heterocon reported on the following day, “I actually listened to and, all too willingly, acted in accordance with my body’s directive”!
Yesterday morning I once more walked down to ‘Open Church’, to enjoy a cup of coffee and a chat. I’m happy to report that my dispenser of healing acupuncture, who called to administer a further treatment yesterday afternoon, seems quite pleased with the progress that I’ve made since she started seeing me last year. I’ve even been contemplating spending a couple of days away with my beloved, in the near future; it just seems so long since I was last able to consider such a venture. When this becomes a reality, it will most certainly mark a major turning point; even the use of “when” rather than “if” is something of a marker!
Yesterday morning I once more walked down to ‘Open Church’, to enjoy a cup of coffee and a chat. I’m happy to report that my dispenser of healing acupuncture, who called to administer a further treatment yesterday afternoon, seems quite pleased with the progress that I’ve made since she started seeing me last year. I’ve even been contemplating spending a couple of days away with my beloved, in the near future; it just seems so long since I was last able to consider such a venture. When this becomes a reality, it will most certainly mark a major turning point; even the use of “when” rather than “if” is something of a marker!
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
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!”
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!”
Monday, May 22, 2006
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.
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.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, May 19, 2006
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.
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.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Saving Secular Society -- In These Times
Interesting article on the growing power of the evangelical right stateside.
Saving Secular Society -- In These Times
Saving Secular Society -- In These Times
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