It Is - therefore I type!

There have been times in my life when acquaintances have envied my laid-back approach to life; at other times, the pendulum has swung so far the other way that, I’ve been recognized as a sterling example of the stressed-out lifestyle. Alcohol and other substances have played their part in both extremes but, fortunately, *I haven’t become addicted to any of them. The major addiction in my life can be spelt out on the fingers of one hand: H – E – L – E – N!

Now, I don’t know where this little ramble is heading and, to be honest, I don’t really care. It seems like I’ve imposed upon myself a statutory requirement to write three blog posts on 30 August 2006#. I have no cause to be stressed-out, as it’s a self-inflicted statute but, nor can I be too laid-back, otherwise I wouldn’t come up with such stupid conditions.

Today, I contentedly drift in a state of semi-alertness, in the company of my beloved. I tap out words for the simple reason that the laptop exists.

[ * sad admission time – nicotine has its tentacles firmly embedded in mind and body! ]

# today’s other postings can be found here (on Hirsute Antiquity) and here (on Mal’s Murmurings)!

Anticipation Mounts

A relatively inactive day, surfing the web, grabbing the odd snack, spending a little while in the garden, passed remarkably quickly. It seems strange saying ‘relatively inactive’, I even ask myself “relative to what?” OK, I admit it; just a typically inactive day has passed smoothly enough, the only exercise being a little hand-in-handing walk with my beloved after her return from work. There’s always something special about these shared exercise periods!

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A week today, a friend from my university days, who I’ve not seen for the best part of thirty years, will be coming to stay with us for a couple of nights and, judging by the occasional e-mail he doesn’t seem to have changed much. [“I should say my needs are very small requiring only a] A toilet b] a Cup of Tea c] A good pub or something similar. I could even bring a sleeping bag if required.”]. He’s the only person I’ve ever met who, after a drink or two, could recite copious passages from Jack London’s ‘Call Of The Wild’ verbatim.

I’ve always suspected that the character of Geoffrey in the series ‘Coupling’ could well have been based on our impending visitor, for reasons too uncanny to detail; a lot of people would consider that an insult but, I trust that those who knew NG would treat the comparison with the same spirit of affection as that in which it is proferred!

After all that build up, I just hope that my beloved won’t be disappointed with the resultant visitor.

Bank Holiday Monday

Although my sole occupation is “pacing myself”, no formal employment, I still enjoy a Bank Holiday. When I was in formal employment, I not infrequently worked on those days and, alternatively, would remain at home rather than follow the lemmings to overcrowded beauty spots. The real treat, these days, is that it provides me with an extra day in the company of my beloved; this is the most precious aspect of my life, I always feel more complete when I’m sharing my time and affection with ma belle Helene.

We’ve managed to do a little sorting out in the house, re-arranging the bedroom which we intend to move into when we finally get round to ordering a new bed. I also managed to cut back some of the briars at the wildlife end of the garden whilst Helen gathered a few more brambles. Blackberries and apples are both available in abundance this year; it gives ma belle amoureuse a chance to practise her baking skills, preparing fruit sponges and crumbles.

The day seems to have passed all too swiftly.

I rejoice in this day the Lord has made.

The Art of Fusion

A pungent melee of aromas fills the air; coriander, cumin, garlic, turmeric, ginger, chilli, tikka & garam masala powders prepare to assault the senses. The master chef (well at least yours truly) is at it again with preparations for Sunday lunch. Once the heat has released this pungency, a dash of oil to the griddle-pan serves as a starting pistol and, let the good times roll! Simultaneously, my aural space is flooded with the Kansas City strains of Jay McShann, as I swiftly chop the peppers, mushrooms, onions, broccoli and other goodies before they taste the searing heat.

Once the onion’s sweated, and the other vegetables have searingly absorbed some of the spice, the lean minced beef hisses on the griddle, and swiftly integrates itself with the vegetarian accoutrements. As it sizzles, I add a further generous dollop of crushed garlic and then a tin of plum tomatoes, swiftly smothered in freshly ground black pepper before chopping and crushing with a spatula. There follows the lazy bit as I stir in a jar of Rogan Josh sauce, allowing it all to simmer to perfection.

Having transferred the magical concoction into two casserole dishes, to stand until tomorrow lunchtime before their long slow simmer, Helen and I race each other to finger out the residual sauce from the griddle pan, pass it to the mouth and, appreciate the tingle at the back of the tongue!


A later posting for today, 'A Spell on the Garden', can be found on Mal's Murmurings.

We also serve ...

This was posted earlier in the day on my Hirsute Antiquity blog but, thought I'd repeat the posting here for the benefit (?) of those who don't visit me elsewhere. I promise there are different postings there too.

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Sometimes, we venture out for an, apparently, aimless meander through the local highways and byways. The timing and the direction are of no particular account; it’s simply that the necessary reserve of stamina was there so, why not?

This morning I ventured out for such a little stroll, armed only with my standard first aid kit, comprising three items. The three items in the kit are a smile, a hug and, an encouraging word. On this occasion, all three items were utilized.

Five minutes after leaving my cosy home base I met Elizabeth G., an octogenarian widow prone to chronic bouts of depression. We talked Poetry, the Brontes, and a little general chit-chat, before going our separate ways. A couple of minutes later, I met with the mother and sister of a friend currently serving his third year as a guest of her majesty. We shared a warm greeting, and a few words, before my gentle meander continued. The next meeting, just a few minutes further down the road was with another Elizabeth, a friend not in the best of health, who has taken it upon herself to be the carer of her more severely ill sister.

Perhaps the timing, and direction we take, are always of account! Having stood to chat, on these three occasions, I sensed it would be foolish to wander quite so far as I otherwise might; a shortcut was called for and, not too hard too find.

Sometimes, it seems as if the path we take is blessed; we also serve who simply meander and wait.

A Little Restoration

After a few days, when levels of physical and emotional stamina had returned to their lowest level for several months, (see 'Where Have All The Muscles Gone' on Mal's Murmurings), the last couple of days have witnessed a slight upturn. It’s not that I’m exactly bubbling with energy but, at least I’ve not been entering into the state of zombified drift.

Yesterday, I managed a walk down to Open Church where I enjoyed my coffee and conversation amongst a group of at least ten acquaintances. I stayed there for 50 minutes, before a slightly more staid return walk home. This is definitely progress!!

This evening, having prepared and consumed an original spiced trout, peppers, cherry tomatoes and mushroom pasta topping, served with Sicilian wholewheat penne pasta, my beloved and I ventured out, all hand-in-handing like a pair of young lovers, for a brief brisk walk. We do so totally feel like young lovers, despite my general state of decrepitude!

We’re currently relaxing, in front of a hot widescreen cathode ray tube, whilst imbibing a most refreshing Hungarian Pinot Grigio (‘Campanula’ 2005) and, all’s well with the world!

Inappropriate Response Syndrome

What is it about sudden sounds that I find so devastating? I enjoy listening to all types of music and, whilst listening, a sudden clash of cymbal, or reverberant tympani roll, are taken in their stride; it’s the sudden disruptive clash, a saucepan lid falling a few inches on to a concrete floor, a tablespoon falling from the work surface, that have the nerve shattering effect. A small sudden sound takes a gargantuan toll on my nervous system, my chest feels crushed, the spine feels as if each separate vertebrae grates on the next one and, a tremble runs up from ankle to neck.

Three years ago, this was never the case but, these days a non-sequential, infinitesimal, sound vibration can have an effective aftermath of multiple minutes, a kind of breathless anxiety. The effect seems to have intensified in recent fatigued days, my senseless tiredness has led to a slight extension of my allocated bed rest hours but, currently, every muscle aches in a debilitating but not at all excruciating manner and, it was as if the sudden (pan lid) crash had applied an electric current to muscles lacking the elasticity to offer an appropriate response.

Perhaps I should be grateful, as big unforced smile imposes itself on my face; I have no need to seek out the latest scarifying roller-coaster ride as, each day’s minor incidents can introduce the same kind of, sometimes discomforting, excitement and temporary trepidation into my wonderful life.

I rejoice and give thanks for this day the Lord has made!

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a complementary posting 'Where Have All The Muscles Gone' can be found on Mal's Murmurings

Raindrop Overture

Morning arrived, bogged down in an intensity of rain; it’s rapping at the window awakened me from quite sound sleep. Each drop-fall, on the skylight window, resonated through the loft-space and tumbled down the steps.

A young blackbird rakes around in the undergrowth, sheltered by the buddleia, as the rain eases; it’s rather like watching a seasoned beachcomber at work. Watching this activity, I feel at ease with the world, milkily grizzled sky and all; it’s almost as if the bird is turning leaves and soil for pleasure, rather than as part of an endless quest for survival. At this time of the year, worms and grubs are in plentiful supply, so its living is easy.

I celebrate this abundant supply. Today I am grateful, for the food in my belly, a roof over my head and, the abundant supply of love which constantly nurtures me. The raindrops may be falling on my head but, it’s certainly not raining in my heart.

As I sit here typing, the rain has all but left us for the moment and, sparrows wallow in the birdbath, as if they haven’t a care in the world.

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A new draft poem on the raindrop theme has been posted on Mal's Factory this morning.

An Exceptional Day

Yesterday was quite an exceptional day for me, in terms of utilization of my somewhat maudlin reserves of physical and emotional stamina; I even managed to flex my concentration muscle a little in the earlier part of the day.

Firstly, I managed to spend a full twenty minutes reading a book, before releasing myself from the duvet cocoon and, although I slightly overstayed my allocated period of bed rest, I still managed to shake the haze out of my brain, and the fog from my field of vision, by the time I’d grabbed a bowl of cereal. To actually have shoes on my feet (shortly) before 11.00AM made quite a change too.

Next I chivvied myself to take a brief stroll to ‘Open Church’ to share coffee, biscuits, and a natter with some of the regulars and, renew acquaintance with others. After a short time there, I veered into one of my legendary hot-flushes, thankfully in a reasonably moderate key, but Isabel (an octogenarian veteran of these coffee supping occasions) was quick to say, “hot flushes Malcolm … is there a big secret you’ve been keeping from us?” As if to, perversely, emphasize my masculine pride, I told her that my hot flushes could outshine the best my beloved ever came up with!

Forty-five to fifty minutes later, I hit the road again, for a leisurely stroll back home. After a little rest, I entered the cyberspace surfing realm, checking e-mails, friends postings on ‘MySpace’ and, a cursory skim through the lead items in various online newspapers. A time of drift followed, to the accompanying strains of (BBC )Radio 4 & Radio 3 until my beloved returned from work. Having prepared a little transcontinental pasta, eagerly devoured by the two of us, more exercise was to follow as we wandered off, hand in hand, into the sunset for a 35 minute reasonably brisk walk.

Neither the degree of exercise, nor the socializing, was even on my agenda in the early part of the year. It truly was an exceptional day!

Today has remained lower key; my furthest venturing has been from bedroom to living room, living room to kitchen and, the odd ambling move to the garden pond. My earliest visit to the pond, this morning, resulted in the gentle eruption of a new poem; the poem ‘Morning Song’ can be read on Mal’s Factory or at Hirsute Antiquity.

Taking Stock

My previous postings today have represented both passive and active modes of contemplation, on Hirsute Antiquity (my blog on My Space) and Mal’s Murmurings respectively.

In some ways I’m pleasantly surprised by these contemplative endeavours, as the past 36 hours have found me restless and frustrated, in a way that could seem close to depression, except it wasn’t marred by any real degree of discontent. Discomfort would be more the key, the sheer heaviness of fatigue with weary limbs, joints and, a slightly out of kilter sense of balance. But, even in this state, I still could find the energy to indulge in important acts of sharing and giving with my beloved. To roll and rejoice in each others arms, to sing with our hearts the joy of being one, and at one, with the whole of creation.

The energy levels, both physically and emotionally, leave much to be desired yet I know, and know of, many others who would consider the resources of stamina I possess their Eldorado. I’ve even managed to rinse out the filters from, and add treatments to, the pond’s filtration unit this afternoon and, hopefully without tempting providence, anticipate an evening walk.

As I approached the pond, it seemed as if each piscine resident had heard the lunch bell sound as they rushed to greet me. It seemed a shame to disappoint them but, they’d already had two feeds today and, there seems to be a reasonably abundant native supply of bloodworms and midge larvae in there.

Suddenly, it seems as if I’m counting my blessings once again! I am and I do – it’s always good to take stock!

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PS 9.50PM : This evening, I retraced the zig-zag route reported on in ‘A Little Diversion’ and, I’m quite extremely happy to report no ill effects on this occasion, apart from a very transitory spasm in the small of my back. This time I walked the route hand-in-hand with my beloved and, of course, that must have made all the difference!