Of gardens, vaccinations and shatteredness

The big question is, do I have the stamina to complete this blog? It's not as if there's any necessity or urgency about it but, the effort may just manage to keep me awake. All in all, it's been rather a busy week in the garden and, for much of the effort the results aren't going to be visible until next spring; actually, I'm just hoping that the results will be visible when that season arrives! The hope is that there'll be wonderful displays of scilla siberica, English bluebells, double daffodils and even, a little later on, three varieties of honeysuckle.

Of the bulbs and plants that arrived this week, 20 bluebells, 38 scilla, 24 double daffodils, and three honeysuckle plants are now in situ, some in the wildlife garden area, others in the borders. A large container, which I'd thought would take some of the remainder, collapsed in the process of clearing out it's old vegetative inhabitants, so an alternative will have to be found. On top of that lot, I'm still awaiting delivery of some fragrant hostas and a few echinaceas, so I'll have to restore stamina levels somehow. Mind you, I should acknowledge the endeavours of my beloved who did an excellent job of clearing out a wildly invasive patch of mint, before I got around to transferring some of the compost bins compost to that area of the garden.

This morning, Helen's invaluable chauffering service was called for to ferry me to the doctors for my flu and pneumonia jabs; whilst at the surgery, I declined the opportunity to be allocated a swine-flu jab as I have reservations regarding both ethics and its efficacy. Come to that, I have more than a few misgivings about the whole pharmaceutical industry despite having benefitted from some of their products.

I'm afraid that cooking is out of the question this evening so, it will be one of those rare occasions when Sunday lunch is actually prepared on the day. I'm a little too shattered to trust myself with a kitchen knife at the moment!

My Sort of Day on 'Mal's Murmurings'

My latest blog posting, MY SORT OF DAY, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'

Juvenile Goldfinch: colours coming through

this little fellow allowed me to move in close - useful in the absence of expensive equipment to get the shots!

Video : Preening Time

sparrows in shrubbery immediately behind the arbour seat - which serves as an improvised hide.

just messin' abaht! : owd John Bradleum

The devil finds work ... etc. ... etc. .. so, I was just messin' abaht and out popped this song from Breathless Mal ... it's a traditional song that I performed, in a school concert at Topcliffe CofE school, back in 1954. This time, I couldn't remember all the right words but, I spontaneously overcame that little difficulty!

blackbird at ground feeder

captured this brief footage, whilst stood at the kitchen door, this morning.

New Poem on Mal's Factory

I've just posted a freshly minted poem, ACCORDION, on 'Mal's Factory'

Sparrow Talk

suburban garden archaeology + note on IE8 abberation

Seeds sprouting, seeds rotting, seeds stagnating: mould growing, mould receding, even mould mouldering; rotting seeds fermenting: tufts; of sundry grasses, sucking the life out of deeper embedded seeds, weeds devouring weeds, layer upon layer of short-span history. There's something seedy about all of these lawn borders, wherever the bird feeding stations have been placed and / or removed..

Left untended, it's as if we have the layers within years (or even months) that human archaeology requres centuries for.

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I'd already posted this on 'Mal's Murmurings' but thought I'd just add it here, in the hope that a new posting may resolve the problem with this particular blog's display in IE8 (whereby the Header 'False Dawn',on 27 September 2009, was followed by the text of my posting from 22August 2009 - originally headed 'Theme & Variations'. All other postings between 21 August 2009 and the present day failed to appear. When viewed in Firefox all the postings appear).

P.S. 7.36pm: Strangely this post appears in IE8 but, the aforementioned aberration persists. TO VIEW THIS PARTICULAR BLOG I RECOMMEND ANY BROWSER OTHER THAN INTERNET EXPLORER!

FALSE DAWN

Yesterday morning, bright sunshine greeted my emergence into day and, most unusually I was feeling wide awake long before 9.00AM; the general rule is that a state akin to wide awake is rarely [even half-heartedly] achieved by yours truly before 10.45AM! I even felt that my nights sleep had been of a refreshing variety, despite my having run two marathons in one day before getting lost in the centre of an unknown town, unable to find the loos. Dreams are certainly peculiar things!

How could I account for a good nights sleep, dream sequences notwithstanding ; the only aid I could think of was having partaken of an extra shot of macchiato at the Café Culture the preceding afternoon. Now there's a paradox!

Anyway, whatever the reason, this unusually early alertness continued throughout the morning, relatively pain and ache free [a most unusual ante meridian experience]. By late morning I was ready for a walk down to Waitrose with my beloved; the walk entails a 15 minute stretch along the Leeds Road before taking the tree-lined footpath across the stray, approx 7 minutes, and a further 5 minutes in the direction of the town centre. That's one helluva long exercise for me but, I managed it and, even enjoyed the walk back home.

All went well with the day until early evening, when an excruciating sense of despairing helplessness overwhelmed me, the sheer pointlessness of everything. The cause for that dramatic change; I'd started wondering how the hell I could get the tax people to sort out one of my pension providers who tax me on every penny even though, all other incomes having been taken into account, I have a further £3 ½ grand tax free allowance. I've never been averse to paying tax but, having completed endless forms, both prior and subsequent to attaining state pension age, no progress has been made on this front! [The pettiness of the issue is that the monthly payment is a mere £62 gross and I'm having £13 take away in tax each month – but when one feels shattered the whole issue takes on gargantuan proportions].

Even my preparation of the main course for Sunday lunch – always pre-prepared on Saturday evening – held no pleasure for me and, subsequent telly-gawping proved absolutely disastrous. The Vile Twins [that's not their stage name by the way] getting through the first stage of boot camp [we're talking X Factor here] made me quite apoplectic; if ever there was a case to be made for abortion, or even euthanasia, these twin contestants are it. Before their miraculous advance, I'd already declared that their advancement would sufficient to prove that there is no god, no evolution either for that matter!

A further cause of my general sense of irritating helplessness is the constant petty bitching experienced on all of the ME sites run by fellow ME sufferers; no wonder that no progress is being made. Doubtless the condition is a physical neurological one, of possibly viral origin, even though the vested interests of medical insurers and pharmacological industries are more than happy to support the psychologizers arguments.

Where my fellow sufferers find the stamina to continue with their virulent nit-picking squabbles is a mystery to me! I suspect that part of the problem is, by its extremely debilitating nature, this neurological ailment tends to breed a kind of re-active depression. Certainly, in my case, the onset of ME also found (or produced) a far more deep-rooted tetchiness than had been apparent as part my nature for the preceding decades.

Basically, I'm just a little pissed off and you, my dear readers, are the outflows recipients. This morning, my naggingly aching body, had to be forcibly removed from the duvet realm by a sheer effort of will. It seems like I'm almost back to normal.