Parting is such dry sorrow

Over the last couple of evenings, my beloved and I bade a lingering farewell to an old friend. It is with a degree of sorrow that this old friend has departed from these premises, never to brighten our glasses again. This companion, who has helped through many a shared imbibing, was Ferdinand Pieroth’s ‘Nussdorfer Herrenberg’, Pfalz, 2001. The grape variety, Muller-Thurgau, is frequently belittled as a mere ‘workhorse’ but, who wants a pedigree racehorse that all too swiftly passes its prime? Although fully earning its description as trocken, memory tells me that the 1998 vintage outshone it in the dryness stakes but, not in all round satisfaction. It’s always a pleasure to find a wine that is both easy drinking and, desirous and deserving of more sustained attention.

With a year or twos aging, the wine attained a remarkable smoothness, by no means monotone on the palate and, a flavour which defied all the clichéd categories into which I am able to sort sundry styles and varieties of grape. It seems strange to extol the virtues of a friend who I am incapable of describing but, fond memories will linger on. One of these days, we’ll be cracking open the first bottle from our 2005 case, an event which I look forward to with a degree of nervous anticipation.

Admittedly, I’ve tasted many a finer, more complex wine from France,
New Zealand, Chile, Australia … but, to date, the Nussdorfer has always lived up to, and frequently exceeded, our expectation.

This is not posted in the hope of receiving any complimentary bottles but, should there be anyone desirous of making such an offer, it would be difficult to decline.

Politics and Selfishness

Yes, we'll take the skilled workers from a country where their skills may be desperately needed! Yes, we have taken the unskilled when it helps us to keep down wages of our lowest paid!


Guardian Unlimited Politics Special Reports Permit scheme to cut flow of east Europeans

We Are Such Stuff .. as irreconcilable differences are made of

Cuba, Iraq, the Middle East, Eastern Europe, the ‘Big Bang’, evolution, faith and, intra-religious squabbles. What could all these items have in common?

Each of these topics was touched on in my chats over coffee, at ‘Open Church’ this morning, alongside the usual formal niceties and small talk. Oh, how easy it is to find a simple solution to most of the world’s problems but, how lacking is any kind of political will to practise them!

On the one side we have self-centred, greed fuelled ideologies, which provide freedom for those who have the wherewithal and, a graduated scale of misery for numerous others; on the other hand we have those ideological positions upheld only by a degree of repression, partially the result of having to resist external malevolent forces, and yet, against the odds, manage to produce a better quality of universal health-care and education than that proffered by some more affluent neighbouring ‘free’ societies. To be honest, if you’re at the bottom of the heap, it doesn’t help to ‘know’ that one is free, if all that freedom entails is the right to be trampled on, and snubbed, by an uncaring greed-motivated minority (and their many sheep-like minions – the men who like to “rattle their chains to show that they are free”).

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Yet again, a rambling posting spews forth from what was supposed to be a simple comment on my morning. The intended report would simply have said: “Once again, I managed to kill two birds with one stone. A visit to ‘Open Church’ entailed exercise (in terms of the walk to and from) and socializing (conversation over a cup of coffee). The walk back, after having been sat for fifty plus minutes, seemed to pace itself at about 60% of the speed assumed on my outward journey. Apart from my usual drowsiness after such exercise and, the return (since yesterday evening) of a discomforting numb tingle, from little finger to wrist on my left hand, my general decrepitude casts few shadows on my enjoyment of the day.”

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A further posting today, 'A human voodoo doll once more', can be found on Hirsute Antiquity (Malcolm's blog on My Space). On Mal's Murmurings a new posting 'The Avian Feline Connection' can be found.

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