- living and frequently struggling with moderate M.E. -
where (bad) health, faith, politics and the joys and troubles of daily life collide.
ME
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
'SKYLIGHT SCAFFOLDING' - A HEALTH WARNING
This afternoon, as my beloved and I walked towards the Castle grounds in Knaresborough, only a surprising fleetness of foot prevented a 2 metre length of plastic down-pipe landing on our heads. This fell from either second floor (‘third floor’ stateside) or roof level of the Castle Vaults public house. The contractors, who allowed this unguided missile to head in our direction, were from 'Skylight Scaffolding' which, judging from their telephone number (0113 203 8344), is a Leeds based firm.
I’m afraid that, in a moment of panic-tinged anger, some rather colourful language flew up to these dangerous incompetents who didn’t even utter a retort. If anybody in the Yorkshire region has to pass by a site where 'Skylight Scaffolding' are working, I recommend that they give it a very wide berth indeed; even then, the least Skylight Scaffolding could do is to provide complimentary hard hats to all passers by.
It’s good to get that off my chest!
a slightly more positive take on the afternoon can be found on Hirsute Antiquities blog.
I’m afraid that, in a moment of panic-tinged anger, some rather colourful language flew up to these dangerous incompetents who didn’t even utter a retort. If anybody in the Yorkshire region has to pass by a site where 'Skylight Scaffolding' are working, I recommend that they give it a very wide berth indeed; even then, the least Skylight Scaffolding could do is to provide complimentary hard hats to all passers by.
It’s good to get that off my chest!
a slightly more positive take on the afternoon can be found on Hirsute Antiquities blog.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Breaking Barriers
Today, after a long night’s bed-rest, disrupted by occasional bouts of night-sweats and general discomfort, the spirit of adventure was upon me! Almost unwittingly, on a short drive out with my beloved, I broke through an important psychological barrier. Our initial goal was to pay a brief visit to Bolton Abbey, which entails a journey past the notorious American spy base at Menwith Hill, which always serves to remind me of our status as an occupied country (or at least an American puppet)!
Despite a minor degree of nervous discomfort, the journey went well but, having arrived at our goal, a flat rate car parking charge of £5.00 ensured that we would not be stopping. As in all probability our stay wouldn’t extend beyond 30 – 40 minutes, I resent such a tariff being imposed; for that fee I could purchase a good budget quality pre-recorded DVD. A decision was called for and, we decided to travel on up t’dale, through Burnsall and onwards to Grassington. Viewing conditions were ideal as we journeyed onwards, the mottled hillsides and dry-stone walls being animated by the patchwork of sun drenched vales midst motley cloud shadowed hillsides. We residents of God’s own county, Yorkshire, are indeed blessed with the most magnificent scenery as well as a reasonable county cricket team and, I understand, some fairly good soccer and rugby clubs.
On arrival in Grassington, we were able to park at the main car park for a fee of £2.00 for two hours. We ambled up into the small town and, decided to take advantage of the Devonshire Hotel’s bargain lunch offering. Two courses for £5.50, home made food as well, in a bar blessed with a selection of hand-pumped ales. For starters, I enjoyed a generous portion of garlic mushrooms whilst Helen indulged in the Cajun salmon terrine. For main course, Helen devoured a turkey madras whilst I settled for a delicious linguini bolognaise, topped with parmesan shavings. Once more, we felt as if we were on holiday, just as we had at the local nature reserve yesterday.
For our return journey we travelled over Greenhow Hill and onwards through Pateley Bridge, enjoying wonderful scenery most of the way. Our round trip, I’m sure, exceeded the distance it would have been to get to the Hotel we’d planned on staying at on Sunday and Monday, had I not chickened out. The journey today was a reward in itself and, it feels so good to have taken this further step forward.
Despite a minor degree of nervous discomfort, the journey went well but, having arrived at our goal, a flat rate car parking charge of £5.00 ensured that we would not be stopping. As in all probability our stay wouldn’t extend beyond 30 – 40 minutes, I resent such a tariff being imposed; for that fee I could purchase a good budget quality pre-recorded DVD. A decision was called for and, we decided to travel on up t’dale, through Burnsall and onwards to Grassington. Viewing conditions were ideal as we journeyed onwards, the mottled hillsides and dry-stone walls being animated by the patchwork of sun drenched vales midst motley cloud shadowed hillsides. We residents of God’s own county, Yorkshire, are indeed blessed with the most magnificent scenery as well as a reasonable county cricket team and, I understand, some fairly good soccer and rugby clubs.
On arrival in Grassington, we were able to park at the main car park for a fee of £2.00 for two hours. We ambled up into the small town and, decided to take advantage of the Devonshire Hotel’s bargain lunch offering. Two courses for £5.50, home made food as well, in a bar blessed with a selection of hand-pumped ales. For starters, I enjoyed a generous portion of garlic mushrooms whilst Helen indulged in the Cajun salmon terrine. For main course, Helen devoured a turkey madras whilst I settled for a delicious linguini bolognaise, topped with parmesan shavings. Once more, we felt as if we were on holiday, just as we had at the local nature reserve yesterday.
For our return journey we travelled over Greenhow Hill and onwards through Pateley Bridge, enjoying wonderful scenery most of the way. Our round trip, I’m sure, exceeded the distance it would have been to get to the Hotel we’d planned on staying at on Sunday and Monday, had I not chickened out. The journey today was a reward in itself and, it feels so good to have taken this further step forward.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Back to the Drawing Board
Sensory overload, and the accompanying breakdown of my already limited emotional stamina, brought my web-surfing (to find a couple of night’s holiday accommodation) to a grinding halt last evening. One of the hotels sounded promising and well within the price limit we’d set ourselves but, suddenly a mind-numbing fog crushed any pro-active section of my brain into total shutdown.
After 11 hours bed-rest, pillow-propped and laptop at the ready, I’m prepared for action. A further search disclosed that the “promising” hotel is, according to customer reviews, rich in cramped accommodation, no lifts, a breakfast window of precisely 30 minutes etc. Definitely unpromising now! Eventually found another hotel, where the price of accommodation was 60% higher; I baulked at that price, especially as this was a supposedly last minute bargain price.
A further search found this same hotel, but the room rate was £40 per night cheaper than that on the ‘bargain’ site! So, I duly registered with the new site and, sure enough the same type of accommodation was available at this lower price for the same two nights (tonight and tomorrow). By the time this discovery was made, my head felt as if it was giddily burning up and my limbs were aching. Still, nothing daunted, I moved on to confirm the booking, credit card details at the ready! Start to enter the number when, out of nowhere, the tears started flowing as stress mounted; quickly backtrack and cancel this venue from the basket!
Suddenly, it had all become too much; a new venue and, a car trip more than five times further than any travel experience over the past couple of years, was a prospect too far. Waves of guilt swept over me as I felt that I was letting both ma belle and myself down. Of course Helen pooh-poohs that idea, well she would – wouldn’t she; my own sense of dismal failure is a different matter. Although I recognize that even the contemplation of the venture was a sign of progress, it somehow still leaves a kind of nagging and gnawing void at the core of my being.
As Helen has the week off work, we’ll perhaps have the odd day out (closer to home) with a bag packed in the boot in case the impulse to stop at wherever we reach takes over. No pre-planning/pre-booking, just see how the physical and emotional resources are in the event.
Anyway, I managed to knock up a spicy ham pasta for lunch for the two of us; much appreciated by the grateful recipients and, already, the world looks brighter despite the plans going awry!
After 11 hours bed-rest, pillow-propped and laptop at the ready, I’m prepared for action. A further search disclosed that the “promising” hotel is, according to customer reviews, rich in cramped accommodation, no lifts, a breakfast window of precisely 30 minutes etc. Definitely unpromising now! Eventually found another hotel, where the price of accommodation was 60% higher; I baulked at that price, especially as this was a supposedly last minute bargain price.
A further search found this same hotel, but the room rate was £40 per night cheaper than that on the ‘bargain’ site! So, I duly registered with the new site and, sure enough the same type of accommodation was available at this lower price for the same two nights (tonight and tomorrow). By the time this discovery was made, my head felt as if it was giddily burning up and my limbs were aching. Still, nothing daunted, I moved on to confirm the booking, credit card details at the ready! Start to enter the number when, out of nowhere, the tears started flowing as stress mounted; quickly backtrack and cancel this venue from the basket!
Suddenly, it had all become too much; a new venue and, a car trip more than five times further than any travel experience over the past couple of years, was a prospect too far. Waves of guilt swept over me as I felt that I was letting both ma belle and myself down. Of course Helen pooh-poohs that idea, well she would – wouldn’t she; my own sense of dismal failure is a different matter. Although I recognize that even the contemplation of the venture was a sign of progress, it somehow still leaves a kind of nagging and gnawing void at the core of my being.
As Helen has the week off work, we’ll perhaps have the odd day out (closer to home) with a bag packed in the boot in case the impulse to stop at wherever we reach takes over. No pre-planning/pre-booking, just see how the physical and emotional resources are in the event.
Anyway, I managed to knock up a spicy ham pasta for lunch for the two of us; much appreciated by the grateful recipients and, already, the world looks brighter despite the plans going awry!
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Vaguely Willing - definitely Weak
How does one explain the, mind-numbing, anxiety that grips one at the thought of doing something unusual? The unusual, is the prospect of having a couple of nights away, the first time for a few years that I’ll be leaving the homestead, apart from a day and a night in hospital after an exploratory op on my throat. My extraordinary sensitivity to unexpected noises is hitting me with a vengeance once more, heightened no doubt by the extraordinary shattered experience induced whilst entertaining a very easy guest.
Having recovered (?) from that downturn in a much quicker time, than any kind of recovery had been taking in the past few years, I was feeling suitably confident to contemplate this little adventure until I started surfing the net for accommodation. This net search, somehow, brought home the reality of how major a step it was going to be, to leave the safety blanket of my familiar domicile for an hotel a mere sixty-plus miles away.
At present, I’m rather tense and panic-ridden; my self-confidence, which usually rides reasonably high, has temporarily sunk to a new low. Are the muscular aches, and bruised (feeling) chest and stomach muscles, simply an emotional response to the prospect or, are the excruciating onslaughts on every tendon and nerve ending, that were for quite a while my regular bedfellow, about to make a re-appearance?
How does one explain the mind-numbing anxiety? For the present I cannot; now is the time to steel myself for action, the spirit is vaguely willing but, the flesh is extraordinarily weak!
Having recovered (?) from that downturn in a much quicker time, than any kind of recovery had been taking in the past few years, I was feeling suitably confident to contemplate this little adventure until I started surfing the net for accommodation. This net search, somehow, brought home the reality of how major a step it was going to be, to leave the safety blanket of my familiar domicile for an hotel a mere sixty-plus miles away.
At present, I’m rather tense and panic-ridden; my self-confidence, which usually rides reasonably high, has temporarily sunk to a new low. Are the muscular aches, and bruised (feeling) chest and stomach muscles, simply an emotional response to the prospect or, are the excruciating onslaughts on every tendon and nerve ending, that were for quite a while my regular bedfellow, about to make a re-appearance?
How does one explain the mind-numbing anxiety? For the present I cannot; now is the time to steel myself for action, the spirit is vaguely willing but, the flesh is extraordinarily weak!
Friday, September 08, 2006
Foxy Goings On
The Oxcliffe Vixen, soul-mate of The Oxcliffe Fox, has now gone public in the blogosphere. The Fox will have to look to his laurels!
A further New Poem Alert
I've just posted a further poem on Mal's Factory, entitled A PISCINE PLOY. The garden is currently providing a rich seam of delight!
New Poem Alert!
I've just posted a brand new poem (entirely this morning's vintage) entitled 'A Spun Illusion' on 'Mal's Factory'.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
The High Cost of Security
The whims and fancies of one’s health play hard to follow. After a couple of days of reasonable progress, including a surprise advance in terms of stamina and muscle elasticity, today began in reverse gear. Perhaps, in the first place, a slightly later bed-time, last night, as I was catching up on the missing thirty years, with a friend from distant university days who is currently visiting us, contributed to a more exhausted entry into the new day. Add to that, the fact that any major sustained conversational practise has been, for the past couple of years, beyond the scope of my physical and emotional reserves and, a slight decline in my improving resilience levels was perhaps inevitable!
As if a conspiracy was afoot, at about ten minutes to ten the telephone rang. My beloved had taken the car in for its service and MOT, before setting off for an appointment in town and, you’ve guessed it, the call was for her; it sounded to non-automobilised Malcolm, like some alien gobbledegook. I’d already dropped the phone onto the floor, as I fumbled my way from the Land of Nod, in the attempt to answer it and, they wanted to know where the key was for the locking wheelnuts. Now, where does one start looking for something unknown which should have been in the car in any case?
Tried Helen’s mobile but, it wasn’t switched on ….. P-A-N-I-C …. More P-A-N-I-C, my chest is crushing the breath out of me, I start aching in each untoned muscle of my body, I want to scream! Did the dealer from whom the brand new vehicle was purchased ever supply such an item, which seems a quite essential piece of equipment? When my beloved returned, from town, she had no memory of ever stumbling upon such an item and, that was even after the garage had shown her what it and its container should look like!
Current state of play is that the garage are going to obtain a new set of wheel hubs(?) complete with key and, will break the old ones off on Friday morning, perform the necessary tests befor replacing them. [Perhaps it’s all part of a less than subtle capitalist ploy, whereby one has to pay for unnecessary replacement items because the dealer had omitted to supply a necessary bit of equipment!]
For my beloved, all this sounded warning bells; what would have happened if the car had a flat tyre, there would be no way to remove the wheel, nor was there any way to test / inspect the brakes (the cause of all this kerfuffle in the first place).
The result of this experience; a physically and emotionally S-H-A-T-T-E-R-E-D Malcolm!
These locking nuts may be a security measure but, I can’t help feeling that they bring with them their own dangers. It’s rather like the threat to civil liberties imposed by governments, upon their own citizens, (when their countries are fighting an illegal war against a country that didn’t pose a threat in the first place), in response to a heightened terrorist threat largely of their own devising.
As if a conspiracy was afoot, at about ten minutes to ten the telephone rang. My beloved had taken the car in for its service and MOT, before setting off for an appointment in town and, you’ve guessed it, the call was for her; it sounded to non-automobilised Malcolm, like some alien gobbledegook. I’d already dropped the phone onto the floor, as I fumbled my way from the Land of Nod, in the attempt to answer it and, they wanted to know where the key was for the locking wheelnuts. Now, where does one start looking for something unknown which should have been in the car in any case?
Tried Helen’s mobile but, it wasn’t switched on ….. P-A-N-I-C …. More P-A-N-I-C, my chest is crushing the breath out of me, I start aching in each untoned muscle of my body, I want to scream! Did the dealer from whom the brand new vehicle was purchased ever supply such an item, which seems a quite essential piece of equipment? When my beloved returned, from town, she had no memory of ever stumbling upon such an item and, that was even after the garage had shown her what it and its container should look like!
Current state of play is that the garage are going to obtain a new set of wheel hubs(?) complete with key and, will break the old ones off on Friday morning, perform the necessary tests befor replacing them. [Perhaps it’s all part of a less than subtle capitalist ploy, whereby one has to pay for unnecessary replacement items because the dealer had omitted to supply a necessary bit of equipment!]
For my beloved, all this sounded warning bells; what would have happened if the car had a flat tyre, there would be no way to remove the wheel, nor was there any way to test / inspect the brakes (the cause of all this kerfuffle in the first place).
The result of this experience; a physically and emotionally S-H-A-T-T-E-R-E-D Malcolm!
These locking nuts may be a security measure but, I can’t help feeling that they bring with them their own dangers. It’s rather like the threat to civil liberties imposed by governments, upon their own citizens, (when their countries are fighting an illegal war against a country that didn’t pose a threat in the first place), in response to a heightened terrorist threat largely of their own devising.
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