A sense of excitement on the garden fence, this morning, as a couple of fledgling bluetits, previous known address our garden nest box, vigorously tweeted and twittered until mummy (or daddy) arrived with sustenance for them. Chirrups filled the air as they watched the mature bird eagerly feeding at the bird table and, when the adult bird grovelled for insects in the shrubbery, they moved to adjacent shrubs. After a few minutes they flew across to the greenhouse door frame and, once again, hollered for food, feathers and residual fluff all aflutter. The faithful parent soon returned with goodies for the duo before they all flew of to the top of the garden.
It may just be a matter of survival but, scenes like these are so uplifting to one’s spirits. It's rather like watching the face of a young child as he/she opens his/her presents on Christmas Day morning!
- living and frequently struggling with moderate M.E. -
where (bad) health, faith, politics and the joys and troubles of daily life collide.
ME
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Idling away the hours
To a large extent my hope was fulfilled; today I could breathe more freely in the cooler air. Strange thing was, I found myself feeling wide awake and alert by 4.30AM but then, from a sense of relief fell back into a deeper sleep. I was nonetheless vaguely aware of my beloved readying herself to drive off to work and, to take a ‘phone call (on the bedside ‘phone) around 9.00AM. Next thing I knew, I’d spent eleven hours in bed so it was time to don dressing gown and adopt a more upright posture.
Within half-an-hour, felt sufficiently energized to take a shower and, revelled in a sense of refreshment. Next thing, applied emollients to lower limbs and, dozed off once more for about half-an-hour. It was one of those days when I just couldn’t get motivated at all; the cloying heat of the last few days had taken its toll. Eventually, by mid-afternoon, I ventured out into the garden to do a little more clearing up of the ground elder and yellow loosestrife, managing to uncover a few plants that had almost been choked by the weed cover.
Once more, this little effort in the garden served as a substitute for my walk. Relaxed briefly by the pond, watched the rippling water whilst being scrutinised by a couple of amphibians, before returning to the house for a renewed bout of inactivity.
Monday, June 12, 2006
A Sign of Hope
I bade the distant peals of thunder welcome and, rejoiced as they rumbled into middle and near distance. My rejoicing was strengthened, and hope reared its head once more, at commencement of the rains down pouring. Each drop of water, as it struck the ground, resonated through my mind; a portent of release from the cloying heat of recent days.
This first and heavy fall didn’t sustain itself sufficiently to fulfil all my requirements but, at least, I manage to rejoice in this day the Lord has made and live in hope!
This first and heavy fall didn’t sustain itself sufficiently to fulfil all my requirements but, at least, I manage to rejoice in this day the Lord has made and live in hope!
Sunday, June 11, 2006
The Best Years of Your Life
This posting was prompted by reading an 8th Grade Meme on Martyn’s Blog.
School, at least of the Secondary variety, was always something to be forgotten about as frequently as possible and, PE / Sports teachers were totally anathema. Perhaps I was a little unfortunate in changing schools at the end of my first year, when my parents moved from a little village in North Yorkshire to Sunderland (then County Durham, now Tyne and Wear I think).
Only two people from the C of E village school (catering for pupils aged 5 to 15), that I had attended for the previous couple of years, passed the eleven plus exam, so when I went to the small grammar school at Thirsk it was a case of getting to know people all over again. That in itself wasn’t too bad but, after one year, to move to a Grammar School where there were as many boys in each year as the total male & female school population at Thirsk did prove a little traumatic.
My loathing of PE teachers is one of my most enduring memories of that new environment. At Thirsk we had no access to a swimming pool whereas, in Sunderland, all the pupils had learned how to swim in the first year. When I said that I couldn’t swim, the nice Loughborough trained teacher took me to the deep end of the pool and held me under. You can be sure I found excuses to avoid going to the swimming baths and, the bastards gave me a fear of even walking close to water which I didn’t overcome until I was in my thirties. At Thirsk, a games lesson involved kicking a football around but, at the Bede Grammar School in Sunderland, the school game was Rugby Union and everyone was supposed to partake in that game. No one took the trouble to explain the rules or objectives of the game and, I was given the position of hooker. I never had any idea what I was supposed to do apart from allowing myself to be kneed and pushed around in the middle of a “scrum”. To this day I don’t understand what a “scrum” is!
In lieu of PE / PT at the village school we did things like country dancing, now that was both exercise and enjoyable; at the Bede, PE was circuit training involving, benches, beams, ropes and all the the most alienating devices of torture one can imagine. The two highlights of time at Secondary School were being in hospital with appendicitis and, having my leg in plaster, from groin to ankle for twelve weeks. What joy, not having to forge a letter exempting me from the punishment (called Rugby or PE) around these periods of time and, I played it to the maximum. I’m sure that the worst Nazi Kommandant had nothing on those hearty fellows called PE teachers!
I wasn’t by any means averse to exercise, enjoying walking, cycling, jiving and other such joyous pursuits but, I never have had much desire to yield to the whims of sadists.
Another happier memory, of those days, was the extra-curricular activity (with my friend Wally) of going down to the docks and buying Polish, East German and American cigarettes from crew members of the Polish fishing fleet; 1 shilling (5p) per twenty pack of the East European ones, 2 shillings (10p) or half-a-crown (12 and a half pence) for the American variety. They made themselves some spending money and, we had a ready market amongst fellow pupils.
With all my enjoyment of the schooling experience, it was even difficult getting any assistance with my self-directed “library” project – a sympathetic study of the Bolshevik revolution, I managed to attain two whole GCE ‘O’ levels from this ‘academic’ school, thus necessitating my having to take entrance examinations to enter my Nursing training and, later, for entrance to the Civil Service.
Only when I went to University, at the age of twenty-eight, was it discovered that I had an examination-phobia and, I definitely wasn’t the idle irredeemable pupil that many of the masters thought. The phobia related to the crowded hives of activity called exam rooms and, having walked out half-way through each of my first year exams (still passing all but one of them), I was subsequently allowed to take examinations on my own, or with one other person, and went on to obtain an excellent honours degree. It was only at this later date that I was able to recognize the high standard of the general education I had received from the grammar school but, quite simply it was the wrong environment for me; unbearably too middle-class and reactionary (the League of Empire Loyalists were allowed a candidate in the school’s mock election, the Communists weren’t) for my taste both then and now.
School, at least of the Secondary variety, was always something to be forgotten about as frequently as possible and, PE / Sports teachers were totally anathema. Perhaps I was a little unfortunate in changing schools at the end of my first year, when my parents moved from a little village in North Yorkshire to Sunderland (then County Durham, now Tyne and Wear I think).
Only two people from the C of E village school (catering for pupils aged 5 to 15), that I had attended for the previous couple of years, passed the eleven plus exam, so when I went to the small grammar school at Thirsk it was a case of getting to know people all over again. That in itself wasn’t too bad but, after one year, to move to a Grammar School where there were as many boys in each year as the total male & female school population at Thirsk did prove a little traumatic.
My loathing of PE teachers is one of my most enduring memories of that new environment. At Thirsk we had no access to a swimming pool whereas, in Sunderland, all the pupils had learned how to swim in the first year. When I said that I couldn’t swim, the nice Loughborough trained teacher took me to the deep end of the pool and held me under. You can be sure I found excuses to avoid going to the swimming baths and, the bastards gave me a fear of even walking close to water which I didn’t overcome until I was in my thirties. At Thirsk, a games lesson involved kicking a football around but, at the Bede Grammar School in Sunderland, the school game was Rugby Union and everyone was supposed to partake in that game. No one took the trouble to explain the rules or objectives of the game and, I was given the position of hooker. I never had any idea what I was supposed to do apart from allowing myself to be kneed and pushed around in the middle of a “scrum”. To this day I don’t understand what a “scrum” is!
In lieu of PE / PT at the village school we did things like country dancing, now that was both exercise and enjoyable; at the Bede, PE was circuit training involving, benches, beams, ropes and all the the most alienating devices of torture one can imagine. The two highlights of time at Secondary School were being in hospital with appendicitis and, having my leg in plaster, from groin to ankle for twelve weeks. What joy, not having to forge a letter exempting me from the punishment (called Rugby or PE) around these periods of time and, I played it to the maximum. I’m sure that the worst Nazi Kommandant had nothing on those hearty fellows called PE teachers!
I wasn’t by any means averse to exercise, enjoying walking, cycling, jiving and other such joyous pursuits but, I never have had much desire to yield to the whims of sadists.
Another happier memory, of those days, was the extra-curricular activity (with my friend Wally) of going down to the docks and buying Polish, East German and American cigarettes from crew members of the Polish fishing fleet; 1 shilling (5p) per twenty pack of the East European ones, 2 shillings (10p) or half-a-crown (12 and a half pence) for the American variety. They made themselves some spending money and, we had a ready market amongst fellow pupils.
With all my enjoyment of the schooling experience, it was even difficult getting any assistance with my self-directed “library” project – a sympathetic study of the Bolshevik revolution, I managed to attain two whole GCE ‘O’ levels from this ‘academic’ school, thus necessitating my having to take entrance examinations to enter my Nursing training and, later, for entrance to the Civil Service.
Only when I went to University, at the age of twenty-eight, was it discovered that I had an examination-phobia and, I definitely wasn’t the idle irredeemable pupil that many of the masters thought. The phobia related to the crowded hives of activity called exam rooms and, having walked out half-way through each of my first year exams (still passing all but one of them), I was subsequently allowed to take examinations on my own, or with one other person, and went on to obtain an excellent honours degree. It was only at this later date that I was able to recognize the high standard of the general education I had received from the grammar school but, quite simply it was the wrong environment for me; unbearably too middle-class and reactionary (the League of Empire Loyalists were allowed a candidate in the school’s mock election, the Communists weren’t) for my taste both then and now.
Chronicles Of A Utopian Writer - Zarqawi, Terrorism, and the Modern Guillotine
A stimulating article, from this Jordanian blogger, on the paradox of "solving terrorism through terrorizing the terrorist".
Chronicles Of A Utopian Writer � Blog Archive � Zarqawi, Terrorism, and the Modern Guillotine
Chronicles Of A Utopian Writer � Blog Archive � Zarqawi, Terrorism, and the Modern Guillotine
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Here Comes The Sun ... yet again!
Last evening, when the temperature had dropped a tad, I ventured out to mow a goodly portion of the lawn. After twenty minutes of this exertion, I felt like the mad dog who stepped out with the Englishman into the noonday sun! This exercise served in lieu of a walk but, unfortunately the return to the living room felt as if I was passing from Turkish Bath to Sauna. In the last few minutes of the mowing exercise, it seemed as if I’d lost more fluid than I’d partaken of in the course of the past week.
You may have already gathered that I’m far from being a sun-worshipper as, on top of my resident low energy levels, it certainly doesn’t do a lot for me. Once again, today, the sun also shone, so apart from the odd couple of minutes spent by the garden pond, I’ve been housebound once more and, for the sake of my health failed to take a walk once again.
It doesn’t seem long since I was bemoaning the persistent rain but, at least I could venture out for a little stroll and, return home far less of a wet blanket than seems possible under current conditions. Tomorrow we’re promised another warm day; sounds more like a threat to me.
You may have already gathered that I’m far from being a sun-worshipper as, on top of my resident low energy levels, it certainly doesn’t do a lot for me. Once again, today, the sun also shone, so apart from the odd couple of minutes spent by the garden pond, I’ve been housebound once more and, for the sake of my health failed to take a walk once again.
It doesn’t seem long since I was bemoaning the persistent rain but, at least I could venture out for a little stroll and, return home far less of a wet blanket than seems possible under current conditions. Tomorrow we’re promised another warm day; sounds more like a threat to me.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
A Day In The Life
Woke up, got of bed and … after a shower … dragged a comb down the hair at the back of my head … The duvet escape manoeuvre left me feeling not too bright but, it was reasonably early. By way of contrast, the day was definitely bright but also too warm (23C by 10.00am BST) for me! Bundled myself into the car with my beloved chauffeuse and, I was on the way to have my bits frozen off!
No, it’s not what you’re thinking, just a couple of warts on chest and back. I seem to be quite proficient at breeding these things, perhaps it goes back to my student days, that glorious era when, in my vacation as a gardener, I managed to get sunstroke and the beginnings of a tan on my fair skin (a potentially lethal combination). These days, my sole desire is to steer clear of really warm sunshiny days, although I do appreciate the occasional stroll in the cool of the evening.
On return home, I rested and supped a few cups of Earl Grey before preparing a fresh salmon, peppers, tomato and mushroom topping for some jacket potatoes, all griddled on an olive oil (infused with turmeric, ginger, coriander, paprika and garlic) lubricated pan. The heat, whilst slaving over a hot stove, proved almost unbearable, to the point that it was difficult to fully appreciate the coolness of the dining room. Despite a perspiration laden exterior, the palate remained sufficiently alert to appreciate each morsel of lunch.
And now, I idly switch the radio from Jeremy Vine (BBC Radio 2), the Afternoon Play (BBC Radio 4), to a little music on BBC Radio 3. How I love the wonderful world of the Wireless and how grateful I am to the BBC.
No, it’s not what you’re thinking, just a couple of warts on chest and back. I seem to be quite proficient at breeding these things, perhaps it goes back to my student days, that glorious era when, in my vacation as a gardener, I managed to get sunstroke and the beginnings of a tan on my fair skin (a potentially lethal combination). These days, my sole desire is to steer clear of really warm sunshiny days, although I do appreciate the occasional stroll in the cool of the evening.
On return home, I rested and supped a few cups of Earl Grey before preparing a fresh salmon, peppers, tomato and mushroom topping for some jacket potatoes, all griddled on an olive oil (infused with turmeric, ginger, coriander, paprika and garlic) lubricated pan. The heat, whilst slaving over a hot stove, proved almost unbearable, to the point that it was difficult to fully appreciate the coolness of the dining room. Despite a perspiration laden exterior, the palate remained sufficiently alert to appreciate each morsel of lunch.
And now, I idly switch the radio from Jeremy Vine (BBC Radio 2), the Afternoon Play (BBC Radio 4), to a little music on BBC Radio 3. How I love the wonderful world of the Wireless and how grateful I am to the BBC.
Monday, June 05, 2006
From Computer Watch to Spring Watch
After a mid-morning visit to the garden pond, to clear out some blanket weed and apply a further treatment of ‘BlanketOut’, much of the afternoon found me housebound. Firstly I re-installed XP Pro (Upgrade rather than Clean Install) on my beloved’s machine and, activated the same. I updated Windows Installer and Anti-Spyware and then awaited the download and installation of 42 updates.
It seemed a good idea to make an image backup of the freshly installed system, having done a back-up of everything before the re-install, so that there would be no corrupt or modified system files in the image. Clicked on Acronis True Image and, received the strange message that it couldn’t find a hard drive to back-up! Duly removed, then reinstalled Acronis and, the back-up was then plain sailing.
Shortly after 5.00pm, it was time to add a little stock to a casserole dish of the curry prepared on Saturday evening and popped it into the oven in readiness for ma belle’s return home. Yesterday lunchtime, we both enjoyed the extra spicy Jalfrezi – Dopiaza hybrid curry, served straightforwardly with my lovingly prepared savoury rice. Today, the slightly diluted variant was served with new potatoes, sprouts, carrots, broccoli and cabbage. My beloved enjoys her vegetables but, the copious quantities she is able to devour would have a disastrous effect on my constitution!
After our meal we enjoyed a brief walk around the neighbourhood before returning, in time to catch some of the Mario Lanza documentary on BBC2 which preceded the currently showing ‘Springwatch’ which we find quite compulsive viewing.
It seemed a good idea to make an image backup of the freshly installed system, having done a back-up of everything before the re-install, so that there would be no corrupt or modified system files in the image. Clicked on Acronis True Image and, received the strange message that it couldn’t find a hard drive to back-up! Duly removed, then reinstalled Acronis and, the back-up was then plain sailing.
Shortly after 5.00pm, it was time to add a little stock to a casserole dish of the curry prepared on Saturday evening and popped it into the oven in readiness for ma belle’s return home. Yesterday lunchtime, we both enjoyed the extra spicy Jalfrezi – Dopiaza hybrid curry, served straightforwardly with my lovingly prepared savoury rice. Today, the slightly diluted variant was served with new potatoes, sprouts, carrots, broccoli and cabbage. My beloved enjoys her vegetables but, the copious quantities she is able to devour would have a disastrous effect on my constitution!
After our meal we enjoyed a brief walk around the neighbourhood before returning, in time to catch some of the Mario Lanza documentary on BBC2 which preceded the currently showing ‘Springwatch’ which we find quite compulsive viewing.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Garden Daze
It really is quite wonderful to observe the bobbing trajectory of the blue tits from food source to nest box! As well as the bobbing flight path, it sometimes presents a diversionary route; seemingly endless variants on a well-flown flight path, presumably to befuddle any potential predators.
We are indeed privileged in having clear views of their flight path from both living-room and kitchen windows. Even when I was stood at the top end of the garden, within a couple of feet of the nest box, I was quizzically eyed by the bird sat on a twig adjacent to the box before he popped in to feed the brood!
Despite the bobbing, and sometimes circuitous flight path, it’s remarkable how swiftly and accurately they pass through the small diameter entrance hole. I suspect these avians know very little about pacing and, thankfully accept they have little need for it!
At least a couple of the goldfish, in the pond, were demonstrating a little frenetic activity today. The first giveaway sign was the twitching of lily pads, prior to the Pentecostal flames dancing close to the water’s surface. Thankfully, I’d already taken a twenty-five minute walk with ma belle before lunch, so I was able to just sit with my beloved on the garden bench and, enjoy the spring like activity around us, without any pangs of guilt.
We are indeed privileged in having clear views of their flight path from both living-room and kitchen windows. Even when I was stood at the top end of the garden, within a couple of feet of the nest box, I was quizzically eyed by the bird sat on a twig adjacent to the box before he popped in to feed the brood!
Despite the bobbing, and sometimes circuitous flight path, it’s remarkable how swiftly and accurately they pass through the small diameter entrance hole. I suspect these avians know very little about pacing and, thankfully accept they have little need for it!
**************************
At least a couple of the goldfish, in the pond, were demonstrating a little frenetic activity today. The first giveaway sign was the twitching of lily pads, prior to the Pentecostal flames dancing close to the water’s surface. Thankfully, I’d already taken a twenty-five minute walk with ma belle before lunch, so I was able to just sit with my beloved on the garden bench and, enjoy the spring like activity around us, without any pangs of guilt.
BBC NEWS | Business | Britain's streets of debt: Whistleblower
Surprise, surprise; big business preys on the vulnerable! And I'd never expected less of our banking institutions! Who would ever have suspected that they put profits before their customers? Surprise, surprise; banks are capitalists ... whoever would have thought it?
Interesting to get an insider view though.
BBC NEWS | Business | Britain's streets of debt: Whistleblower
Interesting to get an insider view though.
BBC NEWS | Business | Britain's streets of debt: Whistleblower
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)