A Visit, An Anniversary and, Chefly Delights

Rather unusually, I felt quite alert when I retrieved myself from duvet land and, within fifteen minutes had made my way to the shower room. Stranger still, this occurred after I had my acupuncture session yesterday afternoon whereas, recently, my usual morning after response has been to feel (not unpleasantly) floatingly zonked out.

A degree of tiredness overwhelmed me during Kazim’s late morning visit; I’m afraid that rapid fire talking, by a guest, tends to have a head-swimmingly soporific effect. It really is rather sad that some people, desperately seeking friendship, tend to become over loquacious, in their attempt to demonstrate / display their friendly qualities and an over-preparedness to oblige. Unfortunately, the reality is that friendships take time to develop, unlike acquaintanceship which is more instantaneous. We’re happy to extend our hospitality but, we don’t rush into committed friendship; that takes time and effort. It is one thing to befriend, something quite different to become bosom buddies!

I recovered sufficiently by mid-afternoon, to visit the 75th Anniversary Exhibition of the Methodist Church in Starbeck, where my father was a Supernumerary Minister for twenty years. It was good to see a photo of my Mother, with a small group from Women’s Network which I’d never come across before. The twelve floral displays, on the theme of Christian Heroes, was quite impressive and, it was encouraging to see that some of the displays had been prepared by members of their neighbouring Anglican and Roman Catholic Churches.

Whilst listening to the Jazz on Radio 3, I adopted my Cheffish persona to devise a main course for Sunday Dinner. The resulting creation has been christened as ‘Spiced Chicken & Pineapple Casserole’ and, it smells far more enticing than you can possibly imagine. .As usual, most of the initial cooking was of the griddle pan variety; I started by coating a few chicken breast fillets in a concoction of ground black pepper, coriander, turmeric, garlic and ginger before griddle pan frying them along with onions, peppers, mushrooms and some freshly diced pineapple, with generous lashings of basil and thyme infused olive oil. I diced the chicken in situ, partway through this preliminary cooking, before tossing all the griddle pan contents into a casserole dish. To this I added 750ml of a garam masala laced chicken gravy. The casserole dish, complete with contents was then popped into a pre-heated oven for twenty-five minutes.

Next came the par-boiling of my spice and herb imbued roast potatoes. Come tomorrow, all that remains is the roasting of the potatoes and heating through of the casserole.

I rejoice and am glad in this day the Lord has made.

The Test Bed: Kodak gaff encourages photographing of kids in school - computer product reviews and news

Whoops!

The Test Bed: Kodak gaff encourages photographing of kids in school - computer product reviews and news

Modest Chap

Just thought you deserved to see yours truly being all overcome with modesty!

The Unpredictability Factor

After being abed for ten and a half hours, managed a swifter than usual arising and dressing routine; what a refreshing change! Took a swift stroll down to Open Church at St Marks and, spent a full 40 minutes in conversation, from which exertion, I’m trusting there will be no ill effects. Certainly, so far, I have felt rather more alert than for the past few days*; perhaps I’m just now recovering from the busier week surrounding my birthday but, I’ve not yet devised a way of ascertaining how I’m going to be from one day to the next.

Predictability has always had its limitations but, somehow, ME/CFS seems to cause swings away from the anticipated norm in an erratically unpredictable manner. I suppose that the goal of ‘Pacing’ is to produce a new median expectation, thus restoring normality on a new plane. Whilst ‘listening to the body’ is always important, an equal value must be placed on routine relating to rest periods etc., (You will rest whether or not you want to!). Much of my present lifestyle is so sedentary that it becomes difficult to know when I am resting. At the same time, I’m all too frequently afraid of taking forty winks as its far too easy to outstay my welcome in the realm of snoozedom. The habit, albeit unwitting, of napping for protracted periods during the day has been hard to kick but, I do often manage to set aside a few minutes of rest following a period of 7/11 breathing.

It seems almost paradoxical that one can sit and do very little yet, simultaneously, get no rest! Now there’s something to ponder. On second thoughts, if I ponder upon it I most certainly will not rest.

* see A Modest Regression (on Mal’s Murmurings) and Fatigue on this blog.

A CHURCH's IMAGE

How do we get our impressions of a Church (I refer here to the building, not the body of believers)? This evening, as I passed St. Marks Church on Leeds Road in Harrogate, the first things to catch my attention were two huge posters, one occupying each of the road facing windows of the churches main entrance porch. The posters were for ‘KUMON’ a commercially franchised system for teaching Maths and English to children, as a supplement to their school education.

The size of the posters made the church look like an industrial unit rather than a house of prayer. According to the ‘Kumon’ website, enrolment costs £15 per child and the fees are £45 per child per subject per month. So much for the churches outreach to the poor and, its not as if this particular church needs the hiring fee to sustain themselves.

The message it gave out for me was quite simple; “THIS IS A COSY MIDDLE CLASS UTILITY”!

Fatigue

Everything seems to be going in slow motion today, at times excruciatingly so; even the eyelids weigh heavily as they seek repose and, words come very slowly. Even had to give up on writing a couple of belated thank-you cards; it’s not everyday that I suffer from ‘writers block’ when working on such a minimal scale but, c’est la vie!

Why is exhaustion such a tiring experience? An overwhelming heaviness seems to have taken control of arms, legs and torso; staying awake seems the most gargantuan of tasks. I recognize that tiredness can, on occasion, be a pleasant velvety experience but, when it wraps all moving and breathing components of one’s body in a lead-cored blanket, only the born-again masochist can rejoice.

Today I understand the word fatigue and, I’ve achieved that state without even trying!

I Can See Clearly Now

After the prolonged and repeated treatment of the pond with ‘BlanketOut’ and ‘SludgeBuster’, the effort is now being rewarded as the water has cleared dramatically in the past few days. Perhaps the recent rain has played its part too!

Sitting by the pond is so much more rewarding as, I’m now able to observe so much more activity; admittedly, I haven’t quite managed a tally of how many fish are now resident. Perhaps, early next spring, I’ll manage a stocktake. Because of the baby fish, at feeding time I’m now using flake as well as floating sticks. The tadpoles, by sheer weight of numbers, trap the odd food stick either against the side of the pond or in a kind of ambush whereas, the tiny goldfish lack both the numbers and cunning to manage this feat. By the time the tiddlers have struggled to grasp the end of a stick, it’s so frequently snatched away by their larger brethren, or even the more street-wise amphibians; for the young goldfish, the flake food, normally reserved for the aquarium inhabitants, proves much more manageable.

The larger, more mature, fish find that tadpoles make for a handy snack between (and even alongside) their Sinna Luvva imposed feeding times; I suppose that fresh food is preferable to processed although, in this case the fresh food is also fast food.

A Few Words About.t.t...t

Weather-wise, the atmosphere remains quite heavy, even though the temperature is several degrees lower; result - energy levels aren’t that brilliant. Nonetheless, I’ve managed to enjoy a day of little activity together with my beloved (between her preaching appointment this morning and church attendance this evening) and we even managed to get a walk in after a rain shower had freshened the air a little. Re-energized by the walk, we then managed to trim back some of the shrubs which had rather obstructed the pathway around the side of the house.

On a few occasions I’ve found myself going into a kind of, non-drug induced, amphetamine stutter whereby, I forget mid-sentence what I intended to say to my beloved. I’m trusting that this is simply an effect of the cloying atmosphere and a busier (than usual) week but, that remains to be seen!

Can't stand the heat but end up in the kitchen

The cloying heat returns and, I feel like crap. Don’t get me wrong, there are several moments when I still feel almost human; being the bold creature that I am, I even managed to rinse out the pond filters, yesterday afternoon, and topped up and treated the pond water for the benefit of its inhabitants. Mind you, this isn’t all selfless devotion to duty; if the piscine inhabitants weren’t healthy, it would deprive me of the pleasure that I receive as I watch them dart out from, and between, their lily pad shelters. After this, there was no way I had sufficient energy in reserve to take my brief walk.

This morning Kazim called round to visit; he is from India and has only been in this country for a couple of months and is feeling quite lonely. He has worked previously in Dubai, Qatar and Iraq but, still finds it important to maintain regular contact with his parents in India and, he’s currently on a two year work permit, in the UK, working as a Restaurant Manager. I always enjoy meeting new people but, I still have a bit of struggle entertaining company for any length of time.

This afternoon, my beloved drove me into town to see if there was anything I wanted to spend my gift card on but, the clammy heat hindered me in coming to any decision at this point. [The plus side, to the town visit, was that the combination of a sunshiny day and World Cup football on the telly ensured it was reasonably quiet for a Saturday. That’s one of the few benefits that football coverage has for me.]

I set to preparing Sunday’s dinner almost immediately on our return home, a spontaneously invented moussaka variant. By the time I’d slaved, creatively over a hot stove, rest became the evening’s imperative.

It has been a good day, especially considering that only a few months ago a trip into the town centre was far beyond the scope of my physical and emotional stamina.

I rejoice and am glad in this day the Lord has made.

Happy Birthday for Me

Visited Julie at the Chronic Fatigue Unit yesterday and, she was quick to spot that I wasn’t my usual self, in response to which I swiftly examined my armpits. What she actually meant was that I seemed more tense and, not so spontaneous with my humorous remarks; I hadn’t realized that some of the recent tensions were still manifest in my general demeanour but, perhaps I’m still suffering from the earlier cloying heat. As usual, she was able to offer a few valuable markers as to how I should work on my ‘pacing’.

This morning, I started my birthday anniversary in my usual lazy daily manner but, the knowledge that my beloved would be with me all day made it very special! Beth arrived, shortly before my emergence into the world of the day people, bearing gifts and, whilst she was still here, the postman arrived bearing further gifts from my brother and sister-in-law. At lunchtime, ma belle et moi walked down to the local Brewer’s Fayre and, idly digested our meal with a Pinot Grigio lubricant.
Unfortunately, alcohol and lunchtime didn’t prove too auspicious a combination; as a result, a goodly portion of the later afternoon was spent in a shattered state, requiring more than my twenty minutes allocated rest.

In the evening, Cathy and Ken called round bearing gifts and, we shared a bottle of Taittinger which proved a wonderful tummy settler, enabling me to indulge in a generous portion of a fresh-cream filled sponge cake.

I rejoice in this day the Lord has made.  

Tidings of comfort and joy

A sense of excitement on the garden fence, this morning, as a couple of fledgling bluetits, previous known address our garden nest box, vigorously tweeted and twittered until mummy (or daddy) arrived with sustenance for them. Chirrups filled the air as they watched the mature bird eagerly feeding at the bird table and, when the adult bird grovelled for insects in the shrubbery, they moved to adjacent shrubs. After a few minutes they flew across to the greenhouse door frame and, once again, hollered for food, feathers and residual fluff all aflutter. The faithful parent soon returned with goodies for the duo before they all flew of to the top of the garden.

It may just be a matter of survival but, scenes like these are so uplifting to one’s spirits. It's rather like watching the face of a young child as he/she opens his/her presents on Christmas Day morning!

Idling away the hours

To a large extent my hope was fulfilled; today I could breathe more freely in the cooler air. Strange thing was, I found myself feeling wide awake and alert by 4.30AM but then, from a sense of relief fell back into a deeper sleep. I was nonetheless vaguely aware of my beloved readying herself to drive off to work and, to take a ‘phone call (on the bedside ‘phone) around 9.00AM. Next thing I knew, I’d spent eleven hours in bed so it was time to don dressing gown and adopt a more upright posture.

Within half-an-hour, felt sufficiently energized to take a shower and, revelled in a sense of refreshment. Next thing, applied emollients to lower limbs and, dozed off once more for about half-an-hour. It was one of those days when I just couldn’t get motivated at all; the cloying heat of the last few days had taken its toll. Eventually, by mid-afternoon, I ventured out into the garden to do a little more clearing up of the ground elder and yellow loosestrife, managing to uncover a few plants that had almost been choked by the weed cover.

Once more, this little effort in the garden served as a substitute for my walk. Relaxed briefly by the pond, watched the rippling water whilst being scrutinised by a couple of amphibians, before returning to the house for a renewed bout of inactivity.

A Sign of Hope

I bade the distant peals of thunder welcome and, rejoiced as they rumbled into middle and near distance. My rejoicing was strengthened, and hope reared its head once more, at commencement of the rains down pouring. Each drop of water, as it struck the ground, resonated through my mind; a portent of release from the cloying heat of recent days.

This first and heavy fall didn’t sustain itself sufficiently to fulfil all my requirements but, at least, I manage to rejoice in this day the Lord has made and live in hope!

The Best Years of Your Life

This posting was prompted by reading an 8th Grade Meme on Martyn’s Blog.


School, at least of the Secondary variety, was always something to be forgotten about as frequently as possible and, PE / Sports teachers were totally anathema. Perhaps I was a little unfortunate in changing schools at the end of my first year, when my parents moved from a little village in North Yorkshire to Sunderland (then County Durham, now Tyne and Wear I think).

Only two people from the C of E village school (catering for pupils aged 5 to 15), that I had attended for the previous couple of years, passed the eleven plus exam, so when I went to the small grammar school at Thirsk it was a case of getting to know people all over again. That in itself wasn’t too bad but, after one year, to move to a Grammar School where there were as many boys in each year as the total male & female school population at Thirsk did prove a little traumatic.

My loathing of PE teachers is one of my most enduring memories of that new environment. At Thirsk we had no access to a swimming pool whereas, in Sunderland, all the pupils had learned how to swim in the first year. When I said that I couldn’t swim, the nice Loughborough trained teacher took me to the deep end of the pool and held me under. You can be sure I found excuses to avoid going to the swimming baths and, the bastards gave me a fear of even walking close to water which I didn’t overcome until I was in my thirties. At Thirsk, a games lesson involved kicking a football around but, at the Bede Grammar School in Sunderland, the school game was Rugby Union and everyone was supposed to partake in that game. No one took the trouble to explain the rules or objectives of the game and, I was given the position of hooker. I never had any idea what I was supposed to do apart from allowing myself to be kneed and pushed around in the middle of a “scrum”. To this day I don’t understand what a “scrum” is!

In lieu of PE / PT at the village school we did things like country dancing, now that was both exercise and enjoyable; at the Bede, PE was circuit training involving, benches, beams, ropes and all the the most alienating devices of torture one can imagine. The two highlights of time at Secondary School were being in hospital with appendicitis and, having my leg in plaster, from groin to ankle for twelve weeks. What joy, not having to forge a letter exempting me from the punishment (called Rugby or PE) around these periods of time and, I played it to the maximum. I’m sure that the worst Nazi Kommandant had nothing on those hearty fellows called PE teachers!

I wasn’t by any means averse to exercise, enjoying walking, cycling, jiving and other such joyous pursuits but, I never have had much desire to yield to the whims of sadists.

Another happier memory, of those days, was the extra-curricular activity (with my friend Wally) of going down to the docks and buying Polish, East German and American cigarettes from crew members of the Polish fishing fleet; 1 shilling (5p) per twenty pack of the East European ones, 2 shillings (10p) or half-a-crown (12 and a half pence) for the American variety. They made themselves some spending money and, we had a ready market amongst fellow pupils.

With all my enjoyment of the schooling experience, it was even difficult getting any assistance with my self-directed “library” project – a sympathetic study of the Bolshevik revolution, I managed to attain two whole GCE ‘O’ levels from this ‘academic’ school, thus necessitating my having to take entrance examinations to enter my Nursing training and, later, for entrance to the Civil Service.

Only when I went to University, at the age of twenty-eight, was it discovered that I had an examination-phobia and, I definitely wasn’t the idle irredeemable pupil that many of the masters thought. The phobia related to the crowded hives of activity called exam rooms and, having walked out half-way through each of my first year exams (still passing all but one of them), I was subsequently allowed to take examinations on my own, or with one other person, and went on to obtain an excellent honours degree. It was only at this later date that I was able to recognize the high standard of the general education I had received from the grammar school but, quite simply it was the wrong environment for me; unbearably too middle-class and reactionary (the League of Empire Loyalists were allowed a candidate in the school’s mock election, the Communists weren’t) for my taste both then and now.

Chronicles Of A Utopian Writer - Zarqawi, Terrorism, and the Modern Guillotine

A stimulating article, from this Jordanian blogger, on the paradox of "solving terrorism through terrorizing the terrorist".

Chronicles Of A Utopian Writer � Blog Archive � Zarqawi, Terrorism, and the Modern Guillotine

Here Comes The Sun ... yet again!

Last evening, when the temperature had dropped a tad, I ventured out to mow a goodly portion of the lawn. After twenty minutes of this exertion, I felt like the mad dog who stepped out with the Englishman into the noonday sun! This exercise served in lieu of a walk but, unfortunately the return to the living room felt as if I was passing from Turkish Bath to Sauna. In the last few minutes of the mowing exercise, it seemed as if I’d lost more fluid than I’d partaken of in the course of the past week.

You may have already gathered that I’m far from being a sun-worshipper as, on top of my resident low energy levels, it certainly doesn’t do a lot for me. Once again, today, the sun also shone, so apart from the odd couple of minutes spent by the garden pond, I’ve been housebound once more and, for the sake of my health failed to take a walk once again.

It doesn’t seem long since I was bemoaning the persistent rain but, at least I could venture out for a little stroll and, return home far less of a wet blanket than seems possible under current conditions. Tomorrow we’re promised another warm day; sounds more like a threat to me.

A Day In The Life

Woke up, got of bed and … after a shower … dragged a comb down the hair at the back of my head … The duvet escape manoeuvre left me feeling not too bright but, it was reasonably early. By way of contrast, the day was definitely bright but also too warm (23C by 10.00am BST) for me! Bundled myself into the car with my beloved chauffeuse and, I was on the way to have my bits frozen off!

No, it’s not what you’re thinking, just a couple of warts on chest and back. I seem to be quite proficient at breeding these things, perhaps it goes back to my student days, that glorious era when, in my vacation as a gardener, I managed to get sunstroke and the beginnings of a tan on my fair skin (a potentially lethal combination). These days, my sole desire is to steer clear of really warm sunshiny days, although I do appreciate the occasional stroll in the cool of the evening.

On return home, I rested and supped a few cups of Earl Grey before preparing a fresh salmon, peppers, tomato and mushroom topping for some jacket potatoes,  all griddled on an olive oil (infused with turmeric, ginger, coriander, paprika and garlic) lubricated pan. The heat, whilst slaving over a hot stove, proved almost unbearable, to the point that it was difficult to fully appreciate the coolness of the dining room. Despite a perspiration laden exterior, the palate remained sufficiently alert to appreciate each morsel of lunch.

And now, I idly switch the radio from Jeremy Vine (BBC Radio 2), the Afternoon Play (BBC Radio 4), to a little music on BBC Radio 3. How I love the wonderful world of the Wireless and how grateful I am to the BBC.

From Computer Watch to Spring Watch

After a mid-morning visit to the garden pond, to clear out some blanket weed and apply a further treatment of ‘BlanketOut’, much of the afternoon found me housebound. Firstly I re-installed XP Pro (Upgrade rather than Clean Install) on my beloved’s machine and, activated the same. I updated Windows Installer and Anti-Spyware and then awaited the download and installation of 42 updates.

It seemed a good idea to make an image backup of the freshly installed system, having done a back-up of everything before the re-install, so that there would be no corrupt or modified system files in the image. Clicked on Acronis True Image and, received the strange message that it couldn’t find a hard drive to back-up! Duly removed, then reinstalled Acronis and, the back-up was then plain sailing.

Shortly after 5.00pm, it was time to add a little stock to a casserole dish of the curry prepared on Saturday evening and popped it into the oven in readiness for ma belle’s return home. Yesterday lunchtime, we both enjoyed the extra spicy Jalfrezi – Dopiaza hybrid curry, served straightforwardly with my lovingly prepared savoury rice. Today, the slightly diluted variant was served with new potatoes, sprouts, carrots, broccoli and cabbage. My beloved enjoys her vegetables but, the copious quantities she is able to devour would have a disastrous effect on my constitution!

After our meal we enjoyed a brief walk around the neighbourhood before returning, in time to catch some of the Mario Lanza documentary on BBC2 which preceded the currently showing ‘Springwatch’ which we find quite compulsive viewing.

Garden Daze

It really is quite wonderful to observe the bobbing trajectory of the blue tits from food source to nest box! As well as the bobbing flight path, it sometimes presents a diversionary route; seemingly endless variants on a well-flown flight path, presumably to befuddle any potential predators.

We are indeed privileged in having clear views of their flight path from both living-room and kitchen windows. Even when I was stood at the top end of the garden, within a couple of feet of the nest box, I was quizzically eyed by the bird sat on a twig adjacent to the box before he popped in to feed the brood!

Despite the bobbing, and sometimes circuitous flight path, it’s remarkable how swiftly and accurately they pass through the small diameter entrance hole. I suspect these avians know very little about pacing and, thankfully accept they have little need for it!

**************************

At least a couple of the goldfish, in the pond, were demonstrating a little frenetic activity today. The first giveaway sign was the twitching of lily pads, prior to the Pentecostal flames dancing close to the water’s surface. Thankfully, I’d already taken a twenty-five minute walk with ma belle before lunch, so I was able to just sit with my beloved on the garden bench and, enjoy the spring like activity around us, without any pangs of guilt.

BBC NEWS | Business | Britain's streets of debt: Whistleblower

Surprise, surprise; big business preys on the vulnerable! And I'd never expected less of our banking institutions! Who would ever have suspected that they put profits before their customers? Surprise, surprise; banks are capitalists ... whoever would have thought it?

Interesting to get an insider view though.

BBC NEWS | Business | Britain's streets of debt: Whistleblower

What's Cooking?

After a leisurely start to the morning, arising gently from the duvet realm after ten and a half hours bed-rest, within an hour I felt sufficiently energized to face the shower routine. In the remnant of the morning I applied a further blanket weed treatment to the pond and, quickly returned to the house to grab some headgear as the baldpate quickly felt the full force of the sun’s rays.

During the afternoon, we called around to Helen’s chapel, to drop off some flowers and the weekly notices that my beloved had prepared but, decided it was too warm to endeavour a walk. In any case, I was getting a bit hungry by this time, having only had a bowl of breakfast cereal at lunchtime.

Having eaten a delicious ciabatta based sweet chilli chicken pizza, it was nearing the time for me to prepare tomorrow’s lunch. First, I prepared the griddle pan with liberal sprinklings of ginger, garlic, coriander, cumin, a little chilli and paprika. After preheating the spices to release the aromas, I added a generous amount of olive oil to sautée a couple of sliced onions before adding the lean minced beef. A generous sprinkling of garam masala intensified the already wonderful aromas. Next, I threw in a liberal amount of chopped peppers, a few sliced mushrooms and, after a while, added a tin of plum tomatoes. To finalize the preparation, added a little crushed garlic and some chopped chilli, before pouring in a jar of spicy Jalfrezi sauce for good measure.

All that remains, tomorrow lunchtime, is to pop a casserole dish full of this wonderful concoction into the oven and prepare the saffron rice. Et voila!

Cooking complete, ma belle et moi settled down to watch the latest episode of ‘Doctor Who’ (BBC1) and, a behind the scenes programme on BBC3, before venturing out to do a little more clearing up in the garden. By this time, around 8.30pm, the temperature seemed ideal for such pursuits.

Apart from the occasional bout of hollowness, a non-specific sense of despondency and frustration, it has still proved possible to rejoice in this day the Lord has made.

Verbal Trespassers will be Blacklisted

It’s happening again, the invasion of the disembodied vampires. Yesterday, mid-afternoon, the telephone rings and the hypnotic voice asks to speak to my beloved. I’m quite happy to inform him that she’s not here, in response to which he enquires, “when would it be convenient?” Now comes the moment of testing, as I cautiously enquire as to the identity of the caller.

My suspicion aroused that they may be out to suck money from us, for a service which we have neither requested nor require; the voice intones “Yorkshire Water – Home Services”, to which I reply that no time would be convenient, don’t they realize how ignorant it is to intrude on our time, our home and, utilizing the phone line for which we pay rental, for their commercial purposes.

The disembodied one explains that they have previously contacted my wife and, at this point, I’m struggling to prevent my language from becoming too colourful. I tell them that if my wife wished to contact them she would but, we are not in the habit of doing business over the ‘phone, or perhaps they’d be willing to permanently pay our line rental for the inconvenience they’re putting us through. I reminded him, in no uncertain terms, that they had indeed spoken to me and, that I told them then, that no time was convenient for them to phone. On that occasion, someone else from the same company ‘phoned at just the moment my wife had come through the door from work. My beloved tried to get rid of the nagging female vampire at the time but, out of frustration said that they could send us a quote!

We have no intention of changing our direct debits for the particular service (?) they were trying to coerce us into subscribing to, as we are quite happy with the current provider.

I’m afraid that their persistent telephonic irritations ensure that the quote they provided will never be viewed and, as far as I’m concerned, the less we have to do with Yorkshire Water – Home Services, the happier my life will be!

What had been a reasonable, though marginally de-energised, day was transformed by these trespassers into an evening of despondent irritability. Today, whilst Helen is out, the telephone has been left to switch to answering machine mode after a minimal ring. I’d like to be able to follow the maxim “Don’t let the buggers grind you down” but, unfortunately they do just that!

Bush and Blair - Endless Love

Leaping Into Action

A bright sunshiny morning greeted me on my emergence into the world of the day people. My beloved was already out in the garden, doing her best to disentangle ground elder roots from those of desirable plants. I loyally sat and observed her exertions from the pond-side garden bench, with only the slightest modicum of guilt!

That disturbing guilt potential proved sufficient for me to access the lawnmower in the top shed and, lop the tops off the ground elder that had begun encroaching on the lawn. Ten minutes effort was sufficient at this early hour as my body issued a muted scream at the prospect of further exertion. At least that ensured that I was sufficiently energised to prepare, and consume, lunch before venturing down to the Chronic Fatigue Unit for my appointment with Julie.

The hospital was ten minutes walk from where we parked the car providing me with a little more exercise. As we arrived at the hospital we met Helen, my physio / acupuncturist and Patrick, a physio who had worked on the ‘Food For Thought’ course that ma belle attended a couple of years back. The meeting with Julie was productive, as always, allowing some scope for modifying my pacing activity.

On our return home, I made a start on splitting and re-potting some Aloe Vera plants, before accidentally coercing my beloved into re-organizing the greenhouse (from its sad state of chaotic desuetude). In the course of this ‘spring cleaning’, a startled Helen recoiled from an unexpected resident, a rather large yellow frog who startled by her presence leapt towards the corner. Another similar, in size and colouring, creature joined the first to cower in the corner before hiding amongst sundry plant pots and seed trays. The speed, with which they manoeuvred around the cluttered space, was quite astonishing; much too fast to catch in one’s hands. They chose to leap any direction other than towards the door. Eventually, a large pond-net provided a solution; unfortunately it was difficult to explain to the amphibians that I was trying to help!

No sooner had the yellow two been despatched to the undergrowth near the pond, when a smaller olive green amphibian made its presence felt in the greenhouse. This little critter seemed quite determined not to be rescued but, the (by now) experienced netter was able to release him into the big wild garden, after a brief battle of wills.

It really is quite wonderful to have this wildlife right on our doorstep.  

The Weariness of the Short Distance Walker

Energy levels have not yet restored themselves to what I assumed was becoming my new norm; a sense of weary frustration hung over my day although, I delighted in watching young birds (primarily blackbirds, starlings and sparrows) being fed in different parts of the garden. My suspicion is that my pathetic power of concentration is at the root of the frustration, alongside my restricted activity.

On the work front, I managed to rinse out the filters from the pond filtration unit, and topped up the water level after previous overenthusiastic baling out activity. Later in the day, I managed to take a twenty plus minute walk.

At present, limiting myself to ten hours bed rest per night / morning is proving rather difficult and, I’m really nervous about allowing myself “forty winks” during the day, even when I need it, because of my propensity for going into overtime!

Pictures Of Lily

A Little Stumble

Is it quite simply that I’m not sufficiently attentive to my body’s requirements or, are the signals transmitted by the aforementioned ‘heap of sensations’ deliberately muffled? This question is posited from the shattered state in which yours truly finds its being. In recent days I have started to take progress for granted, yesterday being no exception.

So, what went wrong? If I knew the answer there would be no need to ask the question. Saturday morning I felt unusually alert and, ventured out into the garden, shortly after 10.00am, to do a little necessary tidying up. One hour later, I quite sensibly called a halt to these exertions and returned to the house for a little rest. In the early afternoon, my beloved and I strolled down to the local Brewers Fayre for a relaxed lunch and, by the time we returned home, knew that I’d had sufficient exercise for the day.

Preparation of Sunday lunch occupied best part of an hour, late afternoon / early evening but, by then the aching weariness was beginning to set in. An early night was definitely called for; it was almost as if shutters kept falling in front of my eyes, a blanket kept muffling my ears, and the world became a floating blur. I think it must have been the quickest I’ve ever managed to transform myself from fully clothed to bed-resting Malcolm. Such was the need for sleep that I fought my weariness, as I undressed, the sooner to immerse myself in the duvet lair.

From the exhaustion came forth … not sleep … but rather a tortuous aching void, a kind of spontaneous depression, a turbulent restlessness. Far too tired to sleep, everything seemed rather pointless as I was unable to pinpoint the source of my complete psychosomatic dis-ease!  S-H-A-T-T-E-R-E-D, I couldn’t bear to be touched, even though one of life’s greatest pleasures is being cosily snuggled with ma belle; it was almost as if my body was an alien being, totally unrelated to my stupefied brain.

After a while, I arose from my bed, hazily stumbled down the stairs, my beloved following in concerned protectiveness, wandered through the kitchen to the stable-door for a nicotine fix. When in turmoil, grab a cigarette! The nicotine was followed by a mug of chamomile tea and, a laboured re-ascent of the wooden hill. On return to bed, the invasion of the night-sweats began, even before I’d gotten off to sleep. It seemed inevitable that they would return to disrupt my snoozes and, as is its wont, the inevitable occurred!

Hopefully, things can only get better; I look through bleary eyes at the sun’s reflected shine on the clouds and thankfully, I rejoice in this day the Lord has made.

Marking Time

After a seemingly interminable grey damp day, come early evening the sun finally broke through and, I ventured out with my ma belle Helene for a little amble around the local roads. I’m sure the weather affects our energy levels, or at least I prefer to reason that way, rather than worry that I may have overdone it on Tuesday. Of course I know that I’m much too wary, and idle, to overdo it on many occasions; as Heterocon reported on the following day, “I actually listened to and, all too willingly, acted in accordance with my body’s directive”!

Yesterday morning I once more walked down to ‘Open Church’, to enjoy a cup of coffee and a chat. I’m happy to report that my dispenser of healing acupuncture, who called to administer a further treatment yesterday afternoon, seems quite pleased with the progress that I’ve made since she started seeing me last year. I’ve even been contemplating spending a couple of days away with my beloved, in the near future; it just seems so long since I was last able to consider such a venture. When this becomes a reality, it will most certainly mark a major turning point; even the use of “when” rather than “if” is something of a marker!  

Setting The Pace

This morning the sun shone and, I was almost up with the proverbial larks. Arising from my slumber lair never seems an easy option but, apart from the sunshine, there was another reason; I eagerly anticipated a Special Delivery from the postal service, an additional DAB Radio and delivery was promised before 1.00PM. As my beloved would have already set off for work, shortly after 8.00AM, I thought it safer to ensure that I would be alert to any ring of the doorbell (or even a feeble tapping on the door). Having just donned my dressing gown, the doorbell rang and, my beloved (not yet ready to depart) received and signed for the aforementioned package. Surprisingly I did not revert to the duvet lair!

I suppose that the early arising wasn’t a complete waste of time as, it ensured that  I didn’t overstay my allocated span au lit and, last evening I retired somewhat earlier than the norm to my bedchamber. Ideally I should go to bed (and arise from same) at a regular time and, last night was a substantially earlier venture up the little wooden hill. Some days it seems a real struggle to remove myself from the duvet’s grasp after a mere ten hours but, it hasn’t required quite so great an effort as I had imagined when the prescription was set. A little morning sunshine makes it easier still!

For a few better days energy-wise, I give thanks. Now for the halo-polishing; before lunchtime and, indeed, before I’d partaken of any breakfast I found myself baling out a few buckets of water from the garden pond, the level having risen to not far short of the surrounding paving. Next, I removed and utilized three more bucketfuls of the liquid to rinse out the sponges from the filtration unit.

A bowl of cereal later found me back in the garden, wheely-bin in tow, for the thankless* task of removing some patches of ground elder and yellow loosestrife; the objective, to rescue a few choking plants, granting them space to breathe and access to light. The recent excessive rain showers proved a great enabler to the removal task but, I’m all too well aware, *one never manages to clear the whole root network. I’m afraid that the ground elder has not only taken over the garden borders but, it also manages to encroach on the lawn, an amazing guerrilla force successfully reclaiming the land it feels is it’s birthright.

Come mid-afternoon, I even managed to take a little walk (all my ownsome). I’m going through a kind of phase when one begins to feel guilty at being able to participate in such normal activities. Pacing is all and, I am learning when to cry “enough!”      

Grey Visitor

He perches, in sparkling eyed contemplation of the goal. Like some celebrated stylite, he squats on his post, oblivious to the hostile elements. My stare intrudes upon his gaze; defiance resonates across the intervening space. And then the sudden leap, a precarious landing on the ridge; teeth bared he taps against the meshwork tower, seeking nutrition.

Losing his grip, he hastily takes flight, back to the stepping stone beam (the garden fence’s parapet) and, suddenly a sure footed spring onto the post. I stare at him, he glowers back at me, brush-tail twitching. I sense a mood of defiance; he leaps once more onto the bird tables ridged roof but, struggles to manoeuvre himself into position on the covered plateau.

Aware of his current instability, retreat to the fence seems inevitable. His eyes gleam as he eyes the target once more. He steels himself for what turns out to be a futile exercise. In the glistening wet plastic roof he has met his match; he flounders and falls into the sodden undergrowth.

Bedraggled, he climbs the austere fence, tail curled in discomforted posture, shakes vigorously and, it’s like taking a shower in reverse. Beads of water propel themselves from body into air.  Straightening his tail, disconsolate, he beats a retreat along the wooden parapet.  

Polishing My Halo

Having spent some time, this morning, soaking up the joyous scene of sparrowlets anticipating a little treat for their stomachs, the garden was later visited by the young offspring of both starlings and blackbirds. The observation of their antics is a joy in itself. Whoops, there I go again exposing the cracks in my hard-bitten veneer!

As the day progressed, I actually motivated myself to perform some of my husbandly chores. Having recently wax polished the top of our antique writing desk, I thought it about time to apply the same graft to the archaic dining table. So far I’ve managed to (almost) complete two-thirds of the surface. The application of the pure beeswax / carnauba wax polish isn’t too much of an effort but, having left it for the required 30 minutes before buffing is when the hard work begins. So far I’ve been buffing it up for about 35 minutes but, a great deal more elbow grease will be required before the task is completed to my satisfaction.

By way of a break from this routine, I decided to prepare Sunday lunch, a spiced honey minced lamb casserole. The act of food preparation sans recipe I find to be therapeutic and, my beloved finds the act of consuming my lovingly prepared dishes equally therapeutic. I’m so pleased that she recognizes real quality on the cuisine front!

Between times I even managed to dub an odd VHS recording to DVD; thankfully the electronics take care of that act, freeing me up to get on with my labours, all I need do (once the process is set in motion) is remember to stop the recording at the appropriate time. Mind you, my concentration being as shot as it so frequently is, the act of remembering could prove a chore!

I’m currently relaxing, listening to the Zubin Mehta / Israel Philharmonic Orchestra ‘live’ recording of Mahler’s Second Symphony … I rejoice in this day the Lord has made.

An Evening with the Boss

Once again, I’m full of gratitude for Auntie Beeb. Having watched ‘Have I Got News For You’ (BBC1) at 9.00 – 9.30pm, a bigger treat was in store on BBC4 at 10.00pm … two hours of the Boss … the first hour was of last weeks concert, with the Seeger Sessions Band, which I have now recorded to DVD and, I’m currently enjoying the European TV premiere of Springsteen's concert with the E Street Band, filmed at Hammersmith Odeon in 1975. What have I done to deserve such treats? He really is the Boss, a great performer with his heart in the right place.

This morning, I only allowed the lure of duvetdom to detain me for ten minutes over my freshly stipulated bed-rest limit (10 hours). For much of the morning I only felt approximately the same fatigue as I experience after my more marathon sleep sessions. I’ve certainly not felt sufficiently energized to take a shower.

Playing about with a new, to me at least, PC programme for building Flash-based Websites, enabled me to stay reasonably alert, and temporarily ward off the lure of the Sandman, during the afternoon. I even summoned up the energy to take a twenty-five minute walk with my beloved when she returned from the Acorn Centre. The most exhausting part, of this exercise, was the five to ten minutes when we stopped to have a chat with a mutual friend; standing takes so much more out of one than walking! Back in the house, I temporarily reverted to a crab-like gait as I ascended and descended the staircase.

At teatime, having recovered (to some degree) from the preceding exertion, I took on my chef’s persona as I prepared some char-grilled salmon, lightly crusted in spice and herbs, served with jacket potatoes topped with mixed grilled peppers, tomatoes and mushrooms. Although I say it myself, it was quite exquisite; I can’t help but be honest about my unique creations.

Saving Secular Society -- In These Times

Interesting article on the growing power of the evangelical right stateside.
Saving Secular Society -- In These Times

The Cold Light of Day

The words are expressed so gently, sensibly, and realistically, that one scarcely recognizes the harsh reality that underpins them! But, in the cold light of a new dawn, the bitter truth strikes home; I have lain and tossed and turned in the duvet realm for nine hours and fifty-nine minutes and, now is the moment of truth.

Under the strict new regime, initiated by the sainted Julie of Chronic Fatigue Services, one must strive to avoid periods in excess of 10 hours in bed. Stiff-necked and aching hipped, I roll myself off the mattress; slowly I insert my arms into the velour sleeves of my dressing gown and, stumble down the stairs for a quick nicotine fix (a medicinal dose to overcome the trauma of this early morning endeavour). I venture back up the wooden hill, adopt a semi-recumbent posture on the bed as I apply emollient to the lower limbs. So far so bad but, I even manage to fit myself up in daytime garments and resist the urge to lie down for a further period of rest.

On paper, the routine stinks of reasonableness and, I approve of its goal! A slowly returning normality is not a prize to be scoffed at and, I am still encouraged to take necessary rests; just like the Inquisition, although the rack may be more subtle, the aim is the salving of my soul.

Fighting the Elements

As the day has remained miserable and gloomy, solely weatherwise I hasten to add, just felt like adding a little more sunshine blossom!

Stray Thoughts

After my recent sparkling days, as the weekend approached I veered back into my usual regimen of idle days. My return to inactivity, thus far, isn’t accompanied by the intense frustration of the pre really good days and, I have managed to take a couple of leisurely walks to grab some photos of the blossom on The Stray. No doubt the rain of the past couple of days will have devastated that glorious scene, so it’s just as well I managed the straywards meander when I did!

It does seem that my ‘pacing’ is starting to come together but, I also recognize the necessity of taking the occasional opportunity to stretch those self-imposed limitations. At times, as in the past few mornings, the body finds its own way (various discomforting symptoms) of telling one to exercise a little caution.

Apple Blossom Time

Just thought I'd go out into the garden and couldn't resist taking a couple of 'snaps'.

Just an ordinary day

Just another ordinary day and, I’m on the road again. The roads seem unfamiliar but, the routine seems unchanging. Grasped by anticipation of future events, it feels like I’m being pulled along this particular route. A crowd gathers at the foot of a hill and I find myself wondering what the big attraction is; all eyes turn towards me, as yet I’m unable to determine whether hostility or admiration motivates their gaze.

Next thing I remember is the multi-stranded steel cable tied around my waist. Slowly I stumble up the hill; a passenger train rumbles behind me and, my exertion seems to supply its only motive power. So, that must be the reason for the cable; my task is to pull this train to the top of the hill.

When I reach the summit, my employer awaits me angered by my late arrival and, an argument begins. I threaten to flatten him, assuring him that it wouldn’t be a problem if only I was fit …

The bosses’ gargantuan hulk leaps from behind the bar (or is it his desk?), a strange confusion of guilt and anger accompanies my sense of panic.

Next thing I know, I’m awake and, it slowly dawns that it’s just one more of the night’s dream sequence. It’s the supra-ordinariness of these dreams that makes them so disturbing.

Pilgrim's Process

After an intensifying frustration with my inability to lead a more active life, I suddenly realized that I ought to make a greater effort. Yesterday I emptied out, and gave a thorough cleaning to the aquarium, transferring the minnows to a temporary tank with all the algae laden plants. After thoroughly scalding the gravel, and cleaning and sterilizing the ornamental rock, came the task of refilling the tank with AquaSafe treated water. It really is amazing how bright the gravel looks now! Next replaced the mechanical & chemical filter, and applied a fresh dose of live bacteria to encourage the bio-foam filter to keep up its good work, then turned on a bit of additional aeration.

At teatime Beth called around, arriving at the same time as Helen returned from work, to give her Mum her birthday present. We enjoyed a glass of delicious Burgundy Chardonnay (Roux Pere & Fils 2002) together and, later in the evening, Cathy (with partner Ken) came around on a similar mission to Beth. Ken & Cathy enjoyed a glass of the self-same Chardonnay followed up with a glass of Jacques Lurton’s ‘Finca Las Higueras’ Pinot Grigio 2005.

Today I arranged a few fresh aquatic plants and added another dose of good bacteria to the aquarium. The White Cloud Minnows, meantime, are intent on hanging and hiding in the multitude of ailing plants of in their temporary holding tank. It really is quite a while since the currently illuminated (for the new plants sake) main aquarium looked so pristine.

This morning decided to take a walk, whilst my beloved was at work and, within five minutes bumped into Iris who attends St. Marks and stopped for a little chat, eventually I walked down to ‘Open Church’ at St Marks for Coffee and a chat. By the time I returned home I felt much better for having ventured out into the normal world. After a rest and, listening to an excellent Afternoon Play (Radio 4), decided to stretch myself a bit more by getting out the lawn mower. I think this sudden burst of activity was inspired by my current relief from recent back and hip pain, as well as relief from the aforementioned frustration. If only I could now do something about my lack of concentration!

I rejoice and am glad in these two good days the Lord has made. There are certain times when it’s much easier to give thanks, and the past couple of days have been two of them!

Seek and (sometimes) you shall find

Yesterday morning saw the return of Abstainer’s Hangover, clogged sinuses, excruciating headache, earache, sore throat and generally feeling flushed and burning up. The only accompaniment lacking was the sudden shivers; apart from that, it seemed like a return to my days of excess. If temperance can be so devastating on one’s sense of wellbeing, perhaps it’s getting to the time when moderation should be avoided like the plague. At least in days of yore it was quite usual to (eventually) acknowledge my own culpability for the following morning’s symptoms; in that sense an undeserved presentation of the symptoms is much more difficult to cope with.

Shortly after noon, I emerged from the duvet realm in a kind of discomfiting stupor and, energised myself sufficiently to prepare salmon pasta for my beloved and I. After lunch we went down to PC World, where my beloved had to pick up a copy of the new Clait 2006 handbook for a colleague and, I enjoyed a brief session browsing. Later in the afternoon we went out for a walk and, I discovered that, with my troublesome back, it was much easier to walk at a quicker pace, assisted by a trusty walking stick, than that recommended (on other grounds) by my therapist. Quite strangely, a slower pace seemed far more jarring on the spine. Come early evening, I prepared one of my special minced beef curries ready for Sunday lunch.

After watching ‘Dr Who’, we decided to watch the most recent film of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ which, to us, seemed perfectly cast and really captured the wonderful humour of Jane Austen. The experience was admirably complemented by a shared bottle of Taittinger ( a pre-emptive strike for Helen’s birthday on Monday.

*****************************

This morning, apart from my normal weariness, I felt much better than the day before and, even managed to take a shower before ma belle helper went out to chapel. A hunt for my favourite cardigan, firstly by me and then by Helen, ended in futility so, I had to settle for a crew-necked jumper. Lunchtime and, the curry, prepared last evening, was thoroughly enjoyed by both of us, a slightly sweet forward taste being delightfully underpinned by a gradual release of ginger& chilli heat. Whilst Helen was finishing her dinner, I retreated to my comfortable supportive chair to relax. Some ten minutes later, I became aware that I wasn’t wearing my spectacles so, another hunt was underway.

As I knew I’d taken my glasses off to put the jumper on, the room in which that action was performed made an obvious stage for our investigative work. No joy. Next we checked the bedroom, twice, and still no result from our quest. Twenty minutes down the line, my beloved discovered that which was lost down the side of of the dining room’s comfortable supportive chair! There was much relief and rejoicing in the land.

As we decided to take a walk in the rain, anoraks were called for as the day’s uniform. Guess what, I was unable to fasten the zip within my first five attempts; bet you thought I couldn’t find the anorak! Some days, I surpass myself and actually find that which has never been lost and, I even manage to fasten my clothes without too much difficulty. If only these events weren’t carried out in such deadly earnestness then, this grouch might even find it vaguely amusing.

Moany Moany

No sooner had my beloved got through the door, on return from her volunteer work at Oxfam, than the ‘phone rings and, I finally get to greet her some ten or fifteen minutes later. Mal’s Murmurings has already recorded this afternoon’s telephone confrontation but, some people just won’t give up! Actually, it was a different person from the same company that I had cut short less than two and a half hours earlier but, at least they had come straight to the point on what ‘service’ this woman, from Yorkshire Water Home Services, was trying to sell. Sadly, my beloved is genetically incapable of putting the ‘phone down on unsolicited callers, even though she had explained that she’d just that instant got through the door on return from work.

Unless the quotation, which we are now expecting, dramatically undercuts the extremely competitive rates we are paying for the same services elsewhere, the only response will be to tell them to get stuffed if they insist on making unsolicited calls to our number! Oh what a sweet temperament I have; ma belle and I seem predestined to play out the “good cop bad cop” routine when it comes to unwelcome telephonic intrusions.

As I seem set in the “Grumpy Old Men” mould, I may as well go on to another technological moan. This time the topic is my website Guest Book. I seem to be receiving an increasing amount of spam entries in the guest book; well they don’t actually get into the guest book pages themselves but, I’m getting sick of notifications that I have received an “entry” whose submission I have to “Approve” or “Delete”; online casinos, web pages about supposed celebrities, landscaping services, all of which originate from that home of decadent late-capitalism, the US of A. I’m rapidly coming to the opinion that it’s not worth having a guest book on the site at all. I don’t mind whether submissions are favourable or legitimately critical but, why do these ignorant spamming gits have to waste their time and mine, I’ll never understand!

J.K. Galbraith's Towering Spirit

He challenged the national conscience with a series of thoughtful books, provocative interviews, merry rejoinders and lethal wisecracks. The Bush presidency led Ken to muse aloud that it had caused him to think thoughts that he never thought himself capable of thinking. I asked, "For example?" Ken replied, "I begin to long for Ronald Reagan."
- Arthur Schlesinger Jr.


J.K. Galbraith's Towering Spirit

Nature Unreserved

An (at times) excruciatingly painful back has forced me to reduce my already limited activity and, led me to the role of overseer as my beloved attempts to get to grips with the lawnmower and its height adjustment mechanism. Were I not such a nice guy, I could so easily get used to the role of bully! Whilst Helen carefully manoeuvred the grass cutting implement, I spasmodically used the end of my walking stick to move the trailing lead out of the way of encroaching blades. Although we’ve not been able to fend off the total invasion of the garden by the dark forces of ground elder, we are at least successfully decapitating some of it’s number who dared to encroach on our would be lawn!

At other times, I simply enjoyed the pleasure of relaxing on the bench beside the garden pond with its abundant tadpole population. Regardless of the water’s murkiness, I really find it relaxing watching the Brown Windsor Soup [aka Pond Water] swirl around and away from the water spout. My halo still gleams a little from all my efforts to re-instate the pond-pump. A simple need to ‘do’ something tempted me into applying a further treatment of the pond with ‘SludgeBuster’ but I’m not anticipating any overnight transformation. The water boatmen, skimming the surface, seemed hyperactive today.

It was wonderful, just sitting and relaxing amidst the activity of honey and bumble bees and the occasional sighting of flutter-bys. Today, for the first time this season, we were visited by a Small Copper butterfly by way of a change from the regular welcome trespass of Tortoisehell and Peacock varieties.

All Change

8.15AM, my beloved answers the bedside telephone, to be told the new comfortable chairs are already on their way. Ten minutes later, the doorbell rings, Helen opens the door and, the chairs are brought in. It's so unusual these days to receive such prompt service that one can easily forgive an early morning 'phone call!

Tomorrow morning at 10.00AM the bulky, far too yielding, sofa will be evacuated from these premises, en route to its new home in Starbeck. The new chairs cry out for me to make an impression.

Bliss was it in those days

I have frequently heard that “a little goes a long way” and, I have just realized how much a little incorrect posture lives on in the memory, with constant reminders from a de-conditioned body. Yesterday afternoon, I expended a modicum of energy trimming the roots of a couple more pond plants, bending my spine rather than my knees in the process. Within a very short period, during which I sat on an all too yielding sofa, the base of my spine was most definitely in need of a bit of TLC. The tender loving care was supplied by ma belle amoureuse, as she carefully massaged and applied Ibuprofen Gel to the afflicted area. In the course of the evening, both Ibuprofen and paracetamol tablets were summoned to my aid.

Needless to say, the process of getting undressed was much impaired by my spinal sensitivity. [There, I’ve said it anyhow!] The back proving even more discomforting, as I set off for a routine appointment with my GP, this morning seemed to be crying out for action. I suddenly realized just how frequently I’d felt muscular and spinal twinges after sitting, for any period of time, on the offending comfy (?) sofa. Next port of call was to a furniture shop in town, where my beloved had been trying to lead me for several weeks past, and looked at a comfortably supporting two seater sofa. Having recognized a fellow back-pain sufferer, the proprietor then drew my attention to an upholstered ladder back chair and … wow … comfort and good posture could be sensed immediately. Within the course of the next couple of days we will be taking delivery of a couple of these beautiful and practical items of furniture. There are times when you simply ‘know’ something is right!

Beth and her partner have been ogling our offending sofa for sometime now so, they will be doing us a favour by taking it off our hands. Bliss was it to be young, when an ‘obviously’ comfortable, overly yielding, floppily designed sofa could be taken at seat and bum value without any of the deleterious effects that beset these older bones and sinews.

One Step At A Time

I’ve been carefully monitoring, or at least imagining, the results of my slower paced but more frequent walks, even though it’s really too soon to recognize any signs of significant improvement / regression. A minor part of the theory behind the slower paced walking seems to be less sensory overload; I certainly find that my powers of observation as I walk seem more finely tuned. The earlier breathing discipline, set by the same therapist, seems to enhance my ‘relaxation’ as I perform some of the routine almost unconsciously. Last Thursday evening as I lay back with the magic needles inserted in my limbs, the acupuncturist commented on how well I was “breathing”.

Over the past few days I’ve been able to manage to fit in a few more tasks (moderate exertion) on top of my gentle perambulations. Most mornings are still pretty washed-out events and, I’m still not ready for much socializing but, I generally feel that things are moving in the right direction.

Bring It On - Rummy to be fired and Cheney to Resign?

Bring it On! � Blog Archive � Rummy To Be Fired and Cheney To Resign?

Hazardous to Africa's Health

Factsheet from Africa Action - The World Bank: Hazardous to Africa's Health.
Africa Action: Resources and Information

Going With The Flow

Yesterday, after a slow muzzy-headed start to the day, I almost felt awake by midday. In the afternoon, ma belle Helene collected me and took me over to Anne-Marie’s where I managed to fix a few minor glitches on her PC running Windows ‘95 with MS Office ’97. When it comes to dealing with these minor glitches, I tend to be intuitive rather than knowledgeable in my approach. Having had my halo polished, as reward for my minor efforts, we were homeward bound; unfortunately, come evening I reverted to a state of hollow restlessness. An earlier night seemed to be in order but, even then, I failed to emerge into the new day before 11.00am.

Once I’d managed to remove myself from the duvet’s entanglement, things didn’t seem to improve; an excruciating headache, emanating from the neck and behind the ears, wasn’t exactly the most welcome start to a new day. A general state of restlessness was alleviated, to some extent, by a slow 30 minute stroll with my beloved although, a startling degree of dis-ease remained.

Out of a sense of frustration, I decided to see if I could sort out the longstanding problem with the pond-pump. Where the lead had been re-jointed, on installation, the sealant had somehow allowed water to permeate hence the frequent ‘tripping’ of the switch. Having first cleaned the filters from our filtration unit, replenishing the unit with good bacteria, I attached a plug to the original length of power cable for the pump … et voila … it was working once more after nearly half a year’s idleness! You can’t imagine just how delightful it was to hear the water splashing into the pond; a hybrid of a horse peeing and a swiftly flowing mountain stream.

Next task was to remove the plug once more and, insert the lead through a length of reinforced hosepipe before routing it beneath the edge of the greenhouse to the power source. The assistance of my beloved was invaluable in this and subsequent tasks; we make a great team! With all the rain we’ve had recently, the task of lifting a few sods from the lawn to bury the pipe was far easier than we’d anticipated.

Although I’m currently aching, in muscles of whose existence I was previously unaware, I can collapse back onto the sofa in the sure and certain knowledge that my halo will not need re-burnishing for some considerable time!

Distracted

Yesterday, quite out of the blue, I was under-whelmed by a sense of hollowness and restlessness. A passively negative experience indeed!  As I flicked through the pages of ‘PC Advisor’, checked my e-mails and, surfed the web, nothing seemed to hold my attention; concentration had returned to an all too familiar low. It was almost as if my mind was alert to its own lack of content! And yet, for quite prolonged periods I was all too content. My beloved wrongly surmised that I may be out of ciggys, whilst I misguidedly thought a bit more web-surfing may stimulate some sort of purposefulness to my evening.

Eventually, Mickey, Donald and Goofy in  ‘The Three Musketeers’ provided a little distraction from my distractedness.