Routine Services

Scrape hard, hammer light; an endless repetition to perform. Fill up another bowl of boiling water and place it on the middle shelf, enable rapid thaw. And then the scrape and tap once more; remove and empty the floor based tray, then shut the door once more. My prophecy, of the time the task would take, is swiftly falsified. The predicted hour multiplies.

I suppose its part of the price to pay for a legacy of neglect. Defrosting of the freezer should be performed bi-annually and not biennially as turns out to be the case. Anyway, this ritual (more honoured in the breach than its observance) was carried out by yours truly last evening. And this small task has taken its toll; thirteen hours after retiring to the duvet realm I re-emerged, unrefreshed, from the spasmodic grip of Morpheus. Vivid dreams had found me active in the awakened world; the transformation into reality was far more sluggish and, activity was the last thing my body desired.

Reluctantly, I ventured up to the garden pond for a ritual rinsing of the filters, after which I refrained from restarting the pump but, perhaps I should have simply reduced the flow rate. Anyway, it’s good to be settled back in the house now, in familiar restful mode, intermittently considering whether the pump switch off time is appropriate. Amazing, just how many decisions life requires us to make, even from a sedentary pose!

Hot Off The Press

A freshly minted poem, by yours truly, can be found on 'Mal's Factory'. The poem is entitled "A QUESTION OF BALANCE".

What Number Are You?

You Are 4: The Individualist

You are sensitive and intuitive, with others and yourself. You are creative and dreamy... plus dramatic and unpredictable. You're emotionally honest, real, and easily hurt. Totally expressive, others always know exactly how you feel.

What Number Are You?

Why?

Why? That’s the question of the moment and, probably, of all time.

Words are not forthcoming and yet, here I am trying to write some down.

Each failed effort, to find a purpose for this word doodling, means that the question returns.

You may have gathered that I’m not the familiar happy little soul. Why? Because I can’t understand what I feel at all!

I am not unhappy but, I feel down. My perennial aches and pains don’t provide me with any reason; after all, a stiff neck, discomforted small of the back, sinusitis, a spasmodic burning sensation in the left elbow and a tenderness under the chin are little more than my daily expectation. The question returns and resonates through my skull. Why?

Concentration runs at approximately a third of the level that it did a few years back but, it has been worse. I manage to get out for a walk and a minimal socializing session at least a couple of times a week; that’s a massive improvement on my state of being at the beginning of this year.

The question is why, with all these things going favourably, do I feel down? Down but not unhappy, it’s an uncomfortable state to be in.

I’ve just felt unable to do a blog posting for a few days. Why?

This is a posting and, it’s in a blog. Sorry, I can’t think of anything to say!

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.