Moonstruck

Tonight I See The Moon; 'Mal's Murmurings' will tell you more about it.

Gratitude

Yet another murky grey day imposes its presence and, I can only be grateful that I feel so much brighter than the day looks. I’m even starting to feel quite alert today, a pleasant surprise indeed when compared to many recent days. Managing to summon up the courage to take a shower seems, in itself, to be a great morale booster; just a few years ago I could accept showering as part of the normal daily routine but, never did it seem such a luxuriant experience as it does these days. Ever since we installed a seat in the shower unit, an antidote to the not infrequent episodes of disequilibrium I’d been experiencing, the experience has been so much more enjoyable.

Today, I even managed to towel myself dry and get dressed without requiring a period of rest between the two activities. Know what, it feels really good! The preceding ten or eleven hours of bed-rest, on this occasion, had proved unusually refreshing. I just have so much to be thankful for; the tenderness of the glands under the chin has subsided, that in the armpits has eased considerably and, the muscular pains in the lower limbs are desisting from their usual attention seeking behaviour. All-in-all, a really positive start to the day; I rejoice, and am glad, in this day the Lord has made.

Microcosmic Capitalism shares Macrosmic Lies

Notices plastered on the windows of WEETONS Grocery Store, in Harrogate, proudly proclaim free delivery, anywhere in the UK, on our Hampers this weekend only. Small print was there none so, we happily trundled through their portals to purchase two of the cardboard packed ‘Weetons Harrogate Hamper’.

Although I felt the £30 each was rather extortionate, free delivery down South would make it seem more reasonable. When we get to the counter we’re asked, “Do you want to take them with you?” Of course we didn’t, we wanted to take advantage of their free delivery offer. “But we don’t deliver the cardboard boxed ones!”

The offer really meant that if you bought at least their £60 hampers this weekend, free delivery would be included. So, we’d ventured out in inclement weather, to shop at this overpriced grocery store, all as a result of deceptive advertising. I checked the notices again, on our way out, nothing to suggest that their overpriced cheapest hampers were excluded from the free delivery offer.

You’d think, by the time I was into my seventh decade, that the wisdom acquired in the years of my youth to never trust a capitalist would have been too well ingrained for me to feel cheated on this occasion; it isn’t, I do!

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P.S. We didn't make a purchase!!!!!!!!!!!!!

An Act of Exorcism

For Mal's view of 'The X-Factor goes Disco' visit Mal's Murmurings.

Intelligence Gathering

Between 2005 and 2006 the FBI sifted through San Francisco area grocery stores customer data, trusting that a spike in sales of Middle Eastern foods would disclose a network of Iranian terrorists.
See 'Falafel! ' (NYT Opinion). The comments on this particular item prove enlightening.

Makes you think!

Mal Murmurs towards the positive

Although starting from greyness, yours truly has decided to Accentuate the Positive on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

Balancing Expectations

Whilst it’s always good to live in hope, there always comes a time of need when one has to lower these expectations. I’m currently fumbling at the keyboard, fighting the resistance of the aluminium cored wrist supports, which theoretically permit unrestricted digital freedom. Oh, if only!

As I’ve said before, on several occasions, this year has seen great improvements in my sense of well-being, taking my first holiday break away from home in several years, managing a bit of socializing and even some pottering around in the garden. The past couple of weeks have found a more marked re-asserting of the sundry aches and pains the flesh is heir too. A sharp bruised sensation, emanating from the armpit, spreading down the left inner arm and, leading to a nagging perpetual ache in the elbow, is just one of the symptoms.

Ever since some earlier bouts of tendonitis and sciatica in the lower limbs, hardly a day has gone by when I haven’t experienced a degree of discomfort and, my power of concentration is fluctuating wildly. Yesterday, for the first time in a while, a sense of disequilibrium occurred, requiring the attendance of my long-suffering beloved whilst I showered and, manifesting itself in stumbling about when reaching (without overstretching) for various utensils.

On the positive side, I still managed to do an hours pottering about in the garden and, in the afternoon managed to devise and prepare a garlic chicken casserole for Sunday lunch.

My bed-rest requirement still fluctuates somewhat and, all too frequent vivid dreams do little to contribute to any sense of refreshment from the sleep time. Although progress, on the health front, can be painfully slow, it is impossible not to feel a sense of gratitude for what I am able to achieve. That’s where the balance of expectation comes into play; I have learned, over the years, that having too high an expectation has lead to an intensified sense of frustration (especially when the target is unattainable). Pushing ones-self leads to some rather agonizing setbacks yet, it’s almost as if I am now able to appreciate the good days more, as the setbacks served to remind me of how low a base I started the journey from.

Accounting For My Time

Until yesterdays brief posting, I’d been feeling rather guilty about the paucity of recent blog posts. It’s not been a case of having nothing to say but rather not having the time to say it; other activities decided to prioritize themselves.

So, what has been happening? Not a lot but, far too much. My pacing has at times managed to go awry; it still catches me unawares when a couple of hours pottering around in the garden results in the following couple of days being plagued with an achingly painful fatigue, a kind of hollow bruised feeling encapsulating my whole being.

A recent visit to the doctor found my GP, half jokingly, asking my other half why she doesn’t stop me! It’s rather as if the hare asked the tortoise to slow down. Problem is, there’s no telling when an adrenaline high is going to push one beyond the parameters of their proper pacing and, frequently it will be at such a time that my beloved’s out at work. When one attains or achieves a certain goal, they feel so chuffed about it that they begin to feel indefatigable.

Following that particular visit to the surgery I was sent up to the hospital for a full battery of blood tests from which only one reading (an adjunct to the ‘normal’ thyroid function test) showed anything abnormal but, not alarmingly so. The locum doctor (with whom I’d discussed the results) said, “just as you’ve seen a little progress this year, in managing the ME/CFS, perhaps you’ll see an equivalent improvement over the next three and a half years”!

It’s a slow journey but, I continue to live in hope.

*****

Apart from the aforementioned work in the garden, the primary consumer of my time has been of the computing variety; re-vamping websites, setting up an online print store and attempting (eventually successful) to troubleshoot sundry laptop problems. As an older laptop is now totally defunct, I decided to install its XP Pro OS onto another machine, hitherto running XP Home, which led to me having to re-install devices and drivers prior to replacing various software programmes. This exercise even had me starting my day earlier than has been the norm; the excitement and uncertainties encountered during the overall operation fought off the brains desire to rest, the mind buzzing overtime when I should have been sleeping.

Subsequent days saw my customary 10 ½ hours of bed rest extended to at least 12 hours, choice didn’t enter the equation!

*****

Model helicopter flying, and repairing, has only occupied a small amount of my time; my reserves of concentration are not sufficient to permit more than the occasional brief practise episode.

A surprise ‘phone call, shortly before I was due to emerge from my duvet lair last Friday, led to a rather thorough investigation of matters, religious, theological and philosophical, as well as personal, in what for me was a prolonged telephonic dialogue (approximately 1 hour duration). The excitement, of this somewhat exploratory conversation, somehow pushed my tiredness onto the backburner only to return with a vengeance later in the day.

By the evening, my mind was once more buzzing, theological ideas spewing forth like there was no tomorrow. Ideas for a little theological exposition abound, it’s quite simply (!) a question of organizing my time and stamina reserves; don’t hold your breath though, a little preliminary work involves clarifying the confusion between/about ‘values’ and ‘truth’ and the anachronistic approach of biblical literalists.

If Only ... nature (sca)red in tooth and claw

The proud feline hunter scampers away like a real scaredy-cat; obviously the tables have been turned.

A few minutes earlier, I had been watching a perky grey squirrel foraging for food, in a tussock of grass, in close proximity to one of our pole mounted bird feeders. I'm always quite amused how charmingly these rodents pick up their food, scrupulously examining their paw held feast in some kind of quality control exercise, before the consuming moment. As the squirrel became aware of my presence, he firstly sidled away before darting off between the end of the shed and the greenhouse. At this stage, its exact location couldn't be determined from my vantage point but, a sudden yelp disclosed our neighbourhood ginger marmalade Persian, running for her life.

It's really strange that all the endeavours of our PIR sonic cat scarers, (supposedly) cat repellent plants, and strategically placed briars had failed to deter this particular member of the feline race, as we sought to protect the nesting birds, a little rodent so swiftly carried out the act of expulsion from the garden. A real David and Goliath parable this, as the rodent puts our feline neighbourhood predator to flight.

Next to the late lamented Sapphire, this particular moggy is one of the most endearing in our general vicinity; trouble is it's impossible to train them to know their boundaries! If only it were possible to teach them that our ponds piscine inhabitants, and the birds nest boxes were off limits, our pleasure would be complete.

P.S. I had also posted this on my Hirsute Antiquity blog where someone left the comment:

.. I don't know why but i hate squirrels.. :(

to this my hasty impromptu response reads as follows:

They can be darned destructive little critters, their scavenging exploits can certainly reek havoc. Although they're rodents, somehow with their long bushy tails they have a more cosy image than their thin tailed relatives. The grey squirrel, originally imported from North America, is now predominant and they swiftly decimated the indigenous red squirrel population.

In some ways I find them more welcome than other North American invasions such as our near neighbour, Menwith Hill spy and star wars station, ironically called RAF Menwith Hill although it's run in the utmost secrecy by the US of A. I'm always surprised to find that some American acquaintances who work there appear almost normally human. Just like the grey squirrels seem cute!

What's Going On?

By early to mid-evening I’m feeling decidedly battered and shattered, an aching hollow void seems to have hit the very core of my being. Somewhere along the line my ‘pacing’ seems to have gone awry, it doesn’t seem to require any marked over exertion on my part; these days, I’m constantly amazed by how much I used to cram into my day.

Just thinking about former activity levels makes me feel rather giddy so, where do I place the blame for my current functional disarray? Of course my normal routine was somewhat disturbed by dining at a slightly later hour, as my beloved and I were invited over to Janet’s (Helens sister) house for Dinner, or should that read Supper (I’m not too good on these social niceties), last evening. Much as I enjoyed the meal, and the company, it was succeeded by a rather disrupted nights sleep, in spite of which I managed to retrieve myself from the duvets enticements at a reasonably early hour.

I even managed to venture down to Open Church for a little natter over a cup of Fair Trade coffee and, on my return home got down to a bit more work modifying one of my web sites. In fact, the creation of some new web pages, and modifying the meta-tags etc. seems to have been a major preoccupation during the past few days. I’ve also set up a little showcase for some of my paintings on Imagekind.com – you’re welcome to browse and see the options for different size prints, mounts and frames, though it’s not compulsory!

Actually, the process of tapping out these few lines has made me realize that I’ve not been totally idle these past few days and, I’ve now yielded to the temptation to fill the inner void with a nice bottle of Chilean oak-aged Chardonnay. So my beloved and I are about to settle down in front of a hot cathode ray tube for an episode of Rebus (ITV1).