From rude alert to joined-up dots

The new day dawned brusquely, disturbing my beauty sleep, at the shockingly early hour of 9.00AM. Way past the real dawn, I suspect, but that's the hour when a strident telephone bell broke through the bonds of Morpheus. Yes, you've guessed it, the 'phone call wasn't even for me. My beloved had departed for work some time earlier I guess, the cup of coffee left by the side of the bed was stone cold - that was the clue and, wouldn't you know the call was for ma belle. To make matters worse, I had a message to scribble down and, both pen and paper were elsewhere in the house. With half-open eyes, I stumbled my way to the location of the writing utensils and, almost forgot why I needed them in the process!

An hour or so later, after a little rest, I finally struggled down the stairs, popped the stony beverage into the microwave, switched on the PC to check my e-mails, consumed the re-heated beverage, then made my way down to Open Church for a chat with the poor unsuspecting souls. Quite surprisingly, my lower limbs were in good fettle and, I really enjoyed the stroll both there and back on a beautifully crisp sunshiny morning.

The afternoon was treatment time, although in some ways it felt like pampering, as I underwent another acupuncture session. As I relaxed, it felt as if I was reclaiming my body - joining up the dots. By the time the treatment was over, I felt both relaxed and sufficiently refreshed to prepare a tuna pasta as soon as Helen returned from work. As usual, the meal was excellent; seems like I'm (happily) stuck with this creative chore!

Changes of Pace

Today's blog postings range from the leisurely, "The time it is a-racing", on Mal's Murmurings, to the frenetic "Fings ain't what they used to be", on Words From an Hirsute Antiquity.

We Are Such Aches As Dreams Emerge From

Having posted this on Hirsute Antiquity, I recognized that it tied in reasonably with the header to this blog - at least that's my excuse for doubling up on a posting.

WE ARE SUCH ACHES AS DREAMS EMERGE FROM

Wrists, elbows, shoulders and hips; it seems the baton of discomfort is passed randomly between these runners in the restless stakes. A pattern slowly emerges, snuggling down, followed by a few restful moments before the mantle of dis-ease drapes itself over the appointed point of articulation. This process, requiring numerous postural reshufflings, continues for at least the first couple of hours in my duvet lair; eventually I drift into the realm of dreams. When I say dreams I mean full technicoloured, surround sound visions; a strange yet sufficiently natural urbanscape in which– I participate in numerous conversations, and arguments, in the process earning myself both respect and hostility. At some point, there’s always a last bus or train that I manage to miss and, frequently offers of help come from the most unexpected quarters; I teeter on the brink between optimism and cynicism.

With each discomforted awakening, I find it possible to recall multitudinous events from these dreams then, quite frequently, drift back into those selfsame situations. The fifth or sixth awakening, accompanied by all too real muscular and joint aches and pains, finds me in that realm of chest aching, rib-burning, coughing fits. With the coughing, the whole of my rib cage feels as if its been trampled by a herd of marauding bull elephants; regrettably, this is not part of a dream but rather a brutal reality.

Come the morning, I’m far more shattered than I was when I exhaustedly tumbled my way onto the mattress last evening. Finally, in the curtain filtered subdued morning light, I find a comfortable posture and drift back into the arms of Morpheus. Shortly after mid-day, I emerge half-awake into the world of the clothed day people.

Presumably, the various aches and pains my flesh is heir to correlate in some way to a marginal increase in exertion over the previous couple of days. There always seems to be a price to pay but, life is far too short and valuable to permanently err on the side of caution.

Re-housing - Another Fish Tale

A rather busier day chez Sinna Luvva today and, once more, it’s a rather fishy business! Fifteen days after the arrival of ‘Jimmy’, Beth’s sole surviving fish, in a rather basic aquarium which severely limited his opportunity to demonstrate speed-swimming, a larger aquarium has been acquired. This new acquisition has been equipped with an efficient power filter and, I’ve managed to assemble an effective lighting unit under the hood – the starter for which rests firmly on a work surface in the kitchen.

To speed up the maturation of the water, in the amply planted tank, I transferred ten litres of water from the cloud minnow’s aquarium to top up the freshly treated water. With Beth’s old aquarium, of very limited capacity, and lacking space to install a power filter, far too frequent water changes were necessary thus preventing a real maturation of the tank.

After all of today’s endeavours, I trust that ‘Jimmy’, and his recently acquired companion ‘Fran’, will approve of their new luxury accommodation.

What's Going On?

Yesterday's posting
"A Tricky Business" can be found on 'Words from an Hirsute Antiquity'. Today's posting "Out From The Shadows" can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

One Step at a Time

Since the unique bright and early demonstration of full alertness, on Monday morning, normal service has been all too swiftly resumed. Perhaps, I should really have said “subnormal service”. My bed rest requirement has temporarily escalated to between 10 ½ and 11 ½ hours, frequently followed by an out of bed requirement of a couple of hours, before my state of being complies with any reasonable definition of ‘awake’. There seems to be a vast hinterland between emergence from the duvet realm and entrance into the world of the alert!

My confidence is like a shining star which my physical (and at times emotional) stamina struggles to follow. There is always a hint of dispiritedness as the realization strikes home that, I have to be content to make do with my walking skills before I am able to run once more. At least I manage to take a shower, when I can be bothered, without feeling totally knocked out; I remind myself of such blessings.

The time is out of joint

The thermometer nods and bobs its way around this plant contained area; the curiosity of the pond’s piscine inhabitants is much in evidence. I can imagine the conversation, “I told you it was milder than last year, just look”.

“Wow”, says Junior, “12 centigrade. You mean it’s going to get cooler?”

The elders nod knowingly, “By gum, the bairns got a lot to learn yet! Remember that sheet of stiff water last winter?”

They remembered it all too well! They seem to be taking it in turns, to give a nudge to their new found object of contemplation.

Perhaps they remember that last year, by this time, the human delivered component of their diet had switched to wheatgerm. For the present, they continue to devour the remnants of their summer feed, before they switch to the pure vegetarian option.

So, once more it’s time for me to rinse the filters, as the pump still has a little more work to do this season. Today, the rinsing procedure seems a little more arduous a task; after yesterdays bright and alert start to the day, the flesh refused to conform with my spirits desire this morning, as I sluggishly emerged (in more traditional fashion) from the duvet realm.

As I sat beside the pond, a robin eyed me inquisitively whilst a thrush foraged through the nearby undergrowth. Even a couple of our summer visitor butterflies were in evidence today; somehow the times are out of joint but, I embrace it as a joy rather than (the Prince of Denmark’s) “wretched spite”.

Taking Stock

Although I would never consider us a particularly prosperous household, economically speaking, it proved quite an eye-opener when Helen did a rapid checklist of items present in our abode. In a world in which a subsistence living is all that vast numbers of people experience, her church had encouraged its members to take stock of all the things we have to give thanks for (“Counting Your Blessings”).

A real surprise came when Helen found that we had 33 Bibles (various versions, translations and reference editions) and even then, I’m not sure whether my beloved had included the Greek New Testaments and the German and French editions. By way of an excuse, for this over-indulgence, I need to point out that my discipline at University was Theology and, Helen had done Biblical Studies, as a supplementary to her German studies; my beloved also uses various versions as she prepares her sermons. On top of that, Helen’s father was an Anglican cleric and I’m a son of the Manse so, I feel sure that some of these volumes were inherited!

Other vital items to be counted included the number of water taps in the house, the number of clocks (ours came to 6, excluding radio alarms), number of pets, number of TV sets, and even plants in the house. On the stock list there were also questions about whether you had eaten eggs, meat etc today, as well as questions about whether you had attended a local hospital for treatment and, how many items of mail were delivered in your most recent postal delivery. As you can see, the stock list was far ranging, not simply taking account of material possessions but, also those services which we take for granted. For each item listed there is a suggested donation we should make, via our collecting box, for a Craft Workshop in Tanzania, established by our friend Susie who is out there with her vet husband, Andy, and their young daughters.

Donations were also suggested for how many drinks one has had in the day, how many times the washing machine has been used in the past week etc. I found it a tremendous reminder of all the things we, in the developed world, so nonchalantly accept as part of our birthright.

Of course, the greatest blessings of all are love, friendship, and compassion; items which cannot be quantified nor, I suspect would we really be able to raise an appropriate donation (albeit only a token) to give thanks for such amazing grace.

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

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Yesterday's blog posting "Familiarity is the Spice of Life" can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'. A brand new poem "Embrace" has been posted on 'Mal's Factory'.

Adapting To Change

Wednesday bore witness to a new arrival Chez Malcolm, an event recorded on Mal’s Murmurings. Beth, my elder step-daughter sought a new home for her aquarium, and its current sole occupant, a goldfish who I christened Jimmy. It seemed rather late in the year to introduce him to the pond, where he would have found immediate companionship whilst, at the same time he seemed to have far too much energy, and corresponding appetite, to allow him to share accommodation with our White Cloud minnows. I had a strong suspicion that Jimmy would have found the smaller of the minnows an adequate fresh snack for his elevenses.

Having cleaned out and replanted Beth’s aquarium, the only available space for it was in the kitchen. I can assure you that I have no intention of letting him witness my char-grilling of larger species of fish, a not infrequent event on this chef’s agenda. Hopefully his sensibilities are not too delicate!

Having noticed how lonely Jimmy seemed, I forced myself to arise from duvet-dom at an exceptionally early hour this morning, for a quick visit with my beloved to the pet shop where I acquired Fran, a gold and black fantail, to be his companion. Unlike our main aquarium, equipped with mechanical-chemical, biological and additional filtration and aeration provision, the new (second-hand) one has only an aeration unit so additional water changes will be required.

I have improvised a bio-foam filter, topped up with some live bacteria, and will be regularly monitoring the water quality until I’ve worked out an appropriate water-change regime. I feel sure that the pleasure received, from observing our new inhabitants, will far outweigh the toll of this additional chore.

Repairing The Connection

Around 5.00PM the telephone rings once more; I like to think that the earlier caller heard my angry tirade (which was the intention) whilst my better half spoke to them and, lo and behold, it is Hotpoint calling once more. “The engineer will be back at work tomorrow, Thursday. Would you like him to call in the morning?” Unfortunately, as that could be any time from 8.00AM, I would hate to have my necessary bed-rest interrupted so, we settled for the previously arranged time of Friday afternoon! The call ended with an apology for “messing us about”. For the apology I am grateful.

I cannot take back what I said in the previous posting as, the sceptical side of me sees that they were just b…erring us about; it seems strange that the sole (formerly pronounced ‘sick’) duty engineer could fit us in as soon as tomorrow morning; what about those customers who’ve been missed out during his spell of sickness?

Yes, I do think that my angry background tirade was probably taken onboard!