Theme & Variations

Yesterday the Café, today the Bistro, hope you enjoy reading about how the other half lives! The day, for me, started rather agonizingly slowly; customary pains and spasms in the lower limbs had found themselves some co-operative companions in the form of aching upper limbs and congested head and torso. Sleep had been so badly needed that it proved hard to come by; relaxation was required but stress was all that was available, stress not of a psychological-emotional variety but rather an uncooperative body.

Exhaustion proved such that I forgot to take the pain-killers yet, without these mind and body were unwilling to function in any manner that one would like to consider normal. Eventually, after 13 hours of bed restlessness, it required a great deal of effort to greet the early post-meridian sun. Only when pain cancelling medication had been taken was any degree of wakefulness apparent. An early afternoon bowl of cereal set me up for a little venture out into the garden, a place where I really feel at home and fully alive.

Contrary to the popular saying about the devil finding work for idle hands, in my experience it’s a garden that performs this task. (Of course, some would see that as the abode of the serpent hence proving the folk sayings credentials). There’s always a little task to perform in terms of pruning, re-arranging or general tidying up and, today was no exception. Strangely, the requisite effort seemed to re-vitalize me, even to the extent of venturing, loppers in hand, into next doors garden where several branches of our wayward shrubs and trees had seen fit to trespass. A few mugs of Earl Grey proved an invaluable aid to the performance of these duties.

By late afternoon, appetite aroused, I led my beloved by the hand to our local Crepes & Crocs Bistro at ‘The Milepost’, in time to take advantage of their Early Bird Menu. We both enjoyed a fishcake starter, served on a bed of green salad with a sweet lightly spiced sauce. For the main course I settled for the Toulouse Sausage and Mash, whilst my OH had the Fish Pie, sharing a side dish of garlic beans between us. To add to the sense of occasion we enjoyed a bottle of Loire Sauvignon to whet the palate.

On our return home, culinary chores beckoned as I prepared my own variant Country French chicken casserole dish in readiness for our Sunday lunch. Currently we’ve settled down to watch the 1944 film, “Farewell My Lovely” the overture to BBC4’s weekend of film noir. Adorable company and a decent movie, what more can anyone wish for? Perhaps a glass of Chardonnay!

Westgate - Customer Dis-service

A few weeks ago we ordered a new double bed for our spare room from Westgate Department Store in Harrogate. As this store is a part of the Anglian Co-op, we were happy to be supporting the co-operative movement.

Early last week we were informed that the bed was available for delivery and, that they would deliver it today, no hint could be proffered as to AM or PM delivery. The charge for delivery was an exorbitant £30+ and, full payment for both the bed and delivery was already charged to the credit card at the time of ordering.

Come the big day and, the component parts of the bed were delivered, or should I say dumped, in full packaging in the bedroom. Evidently unpacking and assembly is not part of their job, although a local shop from which we brought a bed a couple of years back assembled the unit for us and, all for a much smaller “delivery” fee.

We started to unpack the base components only to find it virtually impossible to open the drawer, in one of the base units, in which the castors for that unit are packed. After some twenty minutes of struggle, simply trying to open the drawer, we gave up our efforts and decided to contact the local store. Currently we’re still waiting to hear when they will send someone out to help us with this predicament.

As suggested earlier, we were supporters of the co-operative ideal (overlooking the capitalist warts of the institution). Next time we’ll choose a store that looks after its customers rather than go with a misguided whim of principle. Westgate Department Store, Harrogate, is unlikely to be honoured with our presence in future unless they get their finger out!

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P.S. The man arrived within a couple of hours to release the drawer. Contrary to the information given by the person in the Beds & Bedding Dept., given to my beloved, that our problem was "most unusual, I've never come across that before" , his colleague who released the jammed drawer commented that it was a "quite regular occurrence" when they were assembling beds for display purposes in the showroom.

There seems, to me, a slight discrepancy between "most unusual ... never ... before" and a "quite regular occurrence". One can only wonder aboutt the frequency of the never before information being given to a slightly disgruntled customer. This kind of disinformation would seem to me rather like applying flame at an oil refinery rather than pouring oil on troubled waters.

*PPS A much calmer post, THE VISITOR, can be found on my 'Mals Murmurings' blog.*

New Poem

I've just posted a freshly minted poem, SPIKE, on my "Archive Mined & Freshly Spun" poetry weblog.

If blogger will allow me in, as it seems to be working once more, I may post it on 'Mal's Factory' too.

Recently Unearthed & Newly Created

I just recently unearthed this oil painting of mine, BEAT POET & FLOWERS, when sorting through a few neglected portfolio cases. It was painted in 1967.





This is an image of my most recent watercolour painting, MARKING TIME, which I completed a couple of days ago!

Time on Mal's Hands

My latest blog posting, SHORT DAYS AND LONG HOURS, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'

LISTENING

It’s more difficult than you’d imagine to listen to one’s body. When things are going well, as has been the case for the past few months, with a paucity of trigger alarm signals, one becomes blissfully unaware of their own limitations. Managing a bit more here, and a bit more there, the extra effort seemed as if there were no toll to pay; the boundaries of my physical and mental effort have extended dramatically, way beyond what would have been my wildest dream during most hours, days, weeks and months from late 2003 to early 2009.

One takes the occasional trivial setback in their stride so, it came as something of a shock, this morning, when my head, torso and limbs were all suffering from several of the symptoms and sensations that so frequently blighted my being during that earlier period. Thankfully, they were only present as a pale reflection of their former intensity; even that was sufficient to prevent me continuing a leisurely stroll, on which I’d embarked mid-morning, to ‘Open Church’. That’s when I realized that I’d been losing the knack of ‘listening’ to my body, overdoing things a bit in my complacency. It’s almost as if I’d become too positive in my outlook; mind you, if positive thoughts had been a “cure” for ME-CFS I wouldn’t have ever succumbed in the first place.

So, it has been a lazy day for me, enhanced by listening to a new CD, ‘Tortured Soul’ by Danelle Harvey; the lady in turn rocks, grooves and tenderly coaxes her own words into life in these songs. Although the title of the album, and indeed the subject matter of some of the songs, could lead one to expect a ‘downer’, it’s the artist’s vitality and resilience that shines through.

Not only have I been taking stock, renewing my vigilance, when it comes to listening to my own body, I’ve also had the pleasure of listening to an inspiring singer / songwriter.

The Garden Blooms on 'Mal's Picturebox'

Three new close-up photos, 'THE GARDEN BLOOMS', can be found on 'Mal's Picturebox'.

Garden Matters

Yesterday evening I prepared a couple of web albums with pictures of our garden but, unfortunately, encountered a few problems when I attempted to upload them to add to our Luv4Sinners website (paintings, poetry, personal), recently transferred by Webring from our soon to be defunct Geocities website.

Having spent several hours pottering about in the garden, both this morning and afternoon, with frequent intervals simply idling on one of the garden seats. I thought it was time to do something with these albums. This evening I prepared a welcome page, to accompany the albums, and uploaded them to a new free site on Bravenet. "HELMAL's GARDEN" can be visted at http://helmalsgarden.bravehost.com/main.html. If you omit the main.html, you'll quite simply land on one of the albums rather than the welcome page (I was too lazy to modify the individual html pages of the second album I created, thus leaving that album as the "index").

You're welcome to visit HELMAL's GARDEN.

Fleeting Moments

I'm still enjoying playing with my new toy - this time it's bumble bees and butterflies that go fluttering by!

DAILY RAMBLINGS

DAILY RAMBLINGS

Just an ordinary day; you can’t get much more extraordinary than that! ‘Ordinary’ suggests some kind of stasis, whereas life is dynamic; I fail to understand why I ever think of any day that way. Yet, that is and just was the case; of that terrific disservice to the value of each moment I plead guilty!

Each new day we enter is a day of opportunity, a time to appreciate or a time to waste; all too frequently I spend a generous portion of the morning in bed, catching up on the sleep and, strangely, obtaining a quality of rest which the preceding hours never quite managed to attain. I do not, any longer, make this into a source of guilt but rather, take it as a necessary preparation for the full appreciation of the remainder of these twenty-four hours.

Upon emergence, and consequent merging into the stream of daylight hours, an ambling stroll up the garden, observing the minimal changes, to plant growth and decay, in both the cultivated and the more natural areas of our mini-estate, seems an essential prerequisite to my enjoyment of the day. It’s difficult to imagine how I possibly coped with living in a second floor (third floor in stateside terminology) apartment; perhaps I quite simply existed rather than “lived”. On the other hand, I do realize that what you’ve never had you can’t really miss!

There are inevitably occasions when my, Marxian inspired, political nature leaves me feeling rather at odds with this “spiritual” passive acceptance of my lot but, campaigning burn-out occurred many years ago. Social sympathies remain unchanged, despite my decrease in physical and emotional stamina; capitalism continues to eat itself, greed rules and, as a result, much of the world is quite simply a bloody mess. Pharmaceutical companies continue to leak laboratory strains of virus only to cash in on the need for an antidote; those prepared to stamp anyone down succeed in business; Palestinian Arabs are turned into homeless helpless victims on the very lands which are their birthright, as the persecuted have become the persecutor and, it seems as if morality is just another word for unenlightened self-interest.

The utilitarian ethos of the greatest good for the greatest number has been turned into an excuse for trampling on the rights and freedoms of all those who deign to challenge the status quo!

Sorry, I’m rambling again – I’ve almost lost the original thread – what was it? Oh yes, I remember, the extraordinariness of the everyday. These days, I’m overwhelmed by the simple occurrences of nature, the exhilaration I find in hearing the schnuffling - schnaffling sound of a hedgehog emanating from the vicinity of the birds’ ground feeder, the moths flying out from the long grasses as I take a twilight stroll up the garden, the sheer richness of life’s tapestry.

I can’t ignore the suffering that goes on all around us and, in spite of an accompanying sense of helplessness, I attempt to bear up in thought, prayer and occasional action, those who are in need and pain. In the words of a song by one of my favourite contemporary singer songwriters – Danelle Harvey – I’m ONLY HUMAN.