Malcolm's Amazingly Bold Adventure

At the end of a week of weariness, in which an at times acute back pain has insisted on making its presence felt, this afternoon yours truly undertook a major expedition. Chauffeured by ma belle, I boldly dipped a toe into the realm of major grocery shopping; no such task had been undertaken by Malcolm in the past two or three years.

Already, as the car nosed its way Waitrose-ward there were hints of panic encroaching upon my already discomforted demeanour but, I refused to turn back (bravely resisting this tempting offer from my chauffeuse).

Pushing the trolley, around the store, actually proffered me a modicum of support, although any necessary backing up of the self same trolley made me wince on several occasions.

It really is good to have experienced this aberrant return to ‘normality’ but, I have no urgent desire to replay the exercise!

Just Another Day

Today's blog posting "Just Another Day" can be found on Mal's Murmurings.

Nothing Ventured ...

Having been thwarted on my excursion to ‘Open Church’ yesterday, owing to a marked lack of stamina, this morning I ventured there through the pouring rain. My first change of venue this week, energy reserves having been very low since Monday’s “scrape hard, hammer light” defrosting session! It’s strange really how little exertion is required to knock my progress off track.

Yesterday, I managed to make it as far as the local Post Office / Newsagent before my body cried enough; there’s no doubt that I could have made it down to St Marks but, I feared that I wouldn’t have had sufficient resilience to exercise my usual scintillating conversational skills. Today, despite getting well and truly rain bedraggled en route, I still managed to sustain an hour of conversation with sundry semi-kindred spirits.

Our thoughts have been with Beth, moving house on such a rain tormented day but, not sufficiently so to offer an (un)helping hand. The spirit may be half-willing but the flesh is well and truly weak!

Slow and Grey

Today's blog posting, "Slow and Grey", can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

How Boyish or Girlish are You?

You Are 60% Boyish and 40% Girlish

You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be.

How Boyish or Girlish Are You?

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!