Hot off the keyboard

 A rough draft of a new poem ConDem(natory) Cycle can be found on Mal's Factory.

The Single Porsche Family

With a day pass for a regional conference at £35 (advance booking) and dinner at £50, one starts to wonder just who these events are aimed at. Even if health permitted my attendance, the tariff alone would prove prohibitive. Obviously attendance at such conferences is based upon one's bank balance as much as political persuasion.  It has me wondering what kind of petit bourgeois organization might get away with these exorbitant charges. The answer is the Labour Party, obviously very much New labour judging by these prohibitive tariffs. Already I'm starting to wonder why I ever rejoined the party; having been an activist throughout most of the 1960's and 70's (and a reluctant hanger on in the eighties) the advent of the Blair machine alienated me completely but, I had begun to hope that it may one day regain its soul!

The party obviously can have little appeal to, or understanding of, the economically challenged in our society. Perhaps the party hierarchs consider poverty to be that state wherein one is reduced to the state of being a single Porsche household.

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15.49hrs. I have just posted a rather more upbeat post, primarily a video, entitled Golden Rain on 'Mal's Murmurings'

a complication of ailments

If only I could make sense of it or, better still, describe it in more tangible terms, that would perhaps make an accurate diagnosis more likely. It would even help if it was understood what kind of investigation / observation may be an aid to acquiring such a diagnosis.

Today is a classic case of the hard to define condition, a day when I've felt distinctly queasy and ill at ease, painfully so for a considerable portion of that time. A nagging chest pain, at times acutely sharp at others more like a dull deep bruise, sits atop occasional abdominal spasms. My head at times feels giddily hollow, a leadenly floating  balloon rather than a helium filled one. Sundry long standing gastroenterological ailments may well be behind many of my other symptoms but there, the frustration is an inability to find their cause.

As someone who suffers with the crippling muscle fatigue, muscle spasms, cognitive disturbance, and even tenderness of glands, associated with the neurological condition ME, it is all too easy to ascribe each new (or even apparently randomly recurrent) ailment to this underlying condition. Come to think of it, different individuals will experience distictive variants of the dis-ease; even a "sudden onset" condition finds its home in a body which already has its own history, pre-existing ailments and vulnerabilities. Perhaps, indeed probably, a body with a predominantly neurological illness can easily fall prey to other non-neurological complications.

what a difference a day makes

The contrast (compared to "heigh-ho heigh-ho to A&E we go" - yesterday's posting on Mal's Murmurings) coudn't have been greater; last night I slept solidly from before midnight until at least 4.30am and then, completely unannounced, drifted back into the arms of Morpheus for a further spell. By 8.00am I'm starting to feel really quite refreshed, an unfamiliar morning experience of late. After listening to a 1958 episode of 'The Goon Show' and a couple of comedic programmes of a much more recent vintage (courtesy BBC Radio 7), I released myself from the duvet lair and ventured kitchenwards.

First item on the agenda was preparation of a casserole, in readiness for tonight's guests; peppered chicken in a creamy green and yellow pepper and mushroom sauce, leaving the par-boiling of the potatoes for a little later part of the day.

Next on the agenda, a little stroll down to 'Open Church' for coffee and biscuits, and a little light socializing. An unfortunately familiar sharply bruising sensation around the chest and ribs, and the cramping spasms (partially alleviated by my early morning dose of tramadol) in the lower limbs, proved of little hindrance to my little jaunt. 

Unlike yesterday, discomfiture levels at the moment are quite minimal; if only it would remain that way!

crog-like froaking and coval dorchs

 A new post, entitled "not for the faint hearted or weak stomached ...!" can be found on 'Mals Murmurings'.

almost caught myself apologizing

Once again, and quite irrationally, I'm feeling guilty at not having posted a blog for a goodly number of days; it's not as if anyone out there is dependent on a regular fix of Sinna Luvva's words. My first thought is always one of how lazy I've been, ignoring the sundry other purposes to which my limited stamina reserves have been applied.

Perhaps I should concentrate on how many things I've been able to manage / achieve in spite of the sundry discomforting ailments my flesh is heir to. The removal, cleaning, and subsequent repositioning, of the large ornamental rock from the 180 litre aquarium requires a few rather awkward manouevres which always requires a much greater effort than one would anticipate, has now been carried out for the first time in many months. In the past few weeks, I've also got back into a more regular gravel vacuuming routine for the same aquarium and, I've finally regained control of the necessary filtration changes to maintain the best water quality.

Meantime, Callie is back in the quarantine tank receiving treatment for a bit of finrot, a condition that won't have been helped by the bullying behaviour of Reggie, a considerably larger female fantail goldfish. Admittedly my first (guilt) reaction was that I'd been neglectful of water conditions in the main aquarium during a recent protracted period of ill health (beyond my routinely irritating ailments).

Having got myself back into maintenance routines, I became aware of the need to replace the lighting tubes in both aquariums, a task now resolved but unfortunately not inexpensively so. It's amazing how easy it is to fail to note the gradual diminishing light quality of the fluorescent tubes; that could probably account for some of the recently experienced more prominent algae problems.

In the wider world, much pottering about in the garden has brought about some almost noticeable transformations - perhaps it's time to polish up my halo! And, as if that wasn't enough, I've even managed a modest amount of socializing, easily worth the almost inevitable (albeit of a more moderate nature than anticpated) degree of achingly exhausted setback.

Perhaps I will, eventually, get back into the blogging habit.

Web-Spinner

Back To Normal

i seem to have fallen back onto the ailment roundabout, fortunately it has not yet transmogrified into a full rollercoaster ride at this point. Persistent irritations, of the over production of acid and mucus variety, still make their presence felt alongside the, probably related, ache and bruise sensations (with the occasional sharp nudge) around the chest and lower ribcage area.

Now the leaden ache of the lower limbs has reaffirmed its presence, as has a gnawing ache in wrist and armpits which seems to have re-appeared on a whim and then hangs around for indeterminate / unpredictable periods of time. Even as I sit and type this I'm finding it necessary to take breaks wherein I place both forearms behind my back and push my shoulders firmly back on the comfortably supporting high back chair.

Having had a little stroll down to Open Church, this morning, my legs began to ache as if I'd been on a marathon trek; to be honest they weren't really painful, just more of a gnawing discomfort. The thought occurred that maybe they needed a further stretch so, with the aid of my trusty walking stick, I set off on a brisk walk around the block. Please note that I "set off on a brisk walk", I can't make any claims to having sustained any degree of briskness beyond the 100 metre mark. I thought at least it would prove good for the morale and, it hasn't made the gnawing ache any worse or better.

By late afternoon, an additional dose of lansoprazole (to cut down on acid production) and a couple more tramadol capsules served to alleviate the more extreme edge of discomfort. That extra bit of relief allowed me to get on with preparing a meal in time for my beloved's return from work, and even enabled me to enjoy accompanying ma belle for a grocery shop at Waitrose post dining!

A Special Friend

I've started this post several times but, whatever I started to express seemed somehow irrelevant. It's not that any of my postings has much intrinsic merit, only that which a particular reader may put upon it alongside its utilitarian value, to the writer, as a discipline which places some kind of order or value on the (recorded) aspects of their everyday experiences.

No matter what I set out to express or recount this time, one primary event seemed to overshadow it. After a few rollercoaster years of brain tumour induced ill health Kate, Cathy's lifetime friend , finally lost her battle shortly after her 30th birthday, and nine months after the birth of her wonderful son Joseph. There are times that I consider myself "good with words" but then at others, on occasions like this, the appropriate words just won't fall into place. Come to that I can't even wrestle them into place!

I can't see how anyone who ever met Kate could fail to be touched by the warmth of her smile, a heartwarming smile which she could still display, even whilst undergoing some of the most distressing and disorienting effects of her illness. At times she seemed to defy the expectations of the doctors who treated her; a sturdy determination underlay a vulnerable frame as she once more fulfilled the desire to be back home with her husband and son, rather than laying in a hospital bed.

Cathy feels as if she has lost a part of herself; this is a loss for which there can never be a replacement, a very special friendship - that of kindred spirits - since pre-schooldays. My thoughts and prayers go out to all her family. The world is a poorer place for her passing but, the community of saints has been greatly enriched.

blue tits on feeder

observed from the kitchen door