More "commerce" elsewhere & some new photos (also elsewhere)!

A further posting on the "commerce" theme, Commercial Concerns, can be found on Hirsute Antiquity.

Two small photos of a recent garden visitor can be found on Mal's Murmurings.

After RETAIL - I need THERAPY!

There’s something rather irritating when a retail outlet expects one to pay more for an item than that on their online (collect from store) site. Perhaps they are special online deals but, when the following message appears:

Unfortunately an error has occured.

Server Name www.jessops.com

Local Address 10.16.82.31

Remote Address 80.6.12.45

There was an error loading page: /ShoppingCart/default.aspx

The error message has been recorded .Please click the back button or here to return to the home page.

The error has been reported to the site administrator.

every time one attempts to ‘checkout’ one’s online basket, the only solution is to visit the local store, only to be told that they cannot do these deals unless the items have been ordered online. So, you can imagine what a happy little customer I was after numerous attempts (on PC and laptop, IE and Firefox) to purchase online had failed.

My first instinctive response is of the “stuff you” variety but, I persist in explaining the dilemma – “how does one pre-order online when the site administrator doesn’t seem to have any sense of urgency towards remedying this error”. My nagging proves sufficiently persistent for a sales assistant to attempt to knock off the £3.00 (online) saving on the second pack of photo paper but to no avail. The other assistant suggests that they could perhaps do a 3 for 2 deal, which I immediately accept (this means £7.99 saving on three packs as opposed to the online £3.00 on two packs).

Full marks to the local shop staff, in their satisfactory dealing with an obstreperous customer; sadly the marks are rather lower for the website administrator who is potentially losing the company much online business! (Ten hours later the error had not been corrected. Out of curiosity I’ve just checked the site again and the error has now been resolved.)

The staff at certain other retail outlets (which operate ‘collect at store’) are quite happy to check up on their online deal prices but, I’m sad to report that this particular store does not seem to grant its staff the same leeway.

Having experienced life, at one time, on the other side of the counter, I know how frustrating stroppy customers can be but, the sad reality is that if you don’t make a fuss you miss out on a deal!

Two New Paintings

2007 #1 - watercolour - 16" x 12"


2007 #2 - watercolour - 16" x 12"

Paintings completed on 5 June 2007 (#1) and 11 June 2007 (#2)

Mal Murmurs Again

Today's posting, Give Me The Simple Life, can be found on Mal's Murmurings

The Pace of Progress

Payback time, even when anticipated, hits home hard! Come to think of it, why should I even anticipate it; truth is, if I expect to suffer for my exertions, I only have myself to blame for overdoing it but, it also implies an acceptance of my limitations in the realm of physical and emotional stamina.

The real fly in the ointment is the virtual impossibility of determining the correct quota for a particular endeavour; on too many occasions I’ve discovered that intellectual and emotional endeavour can affect my state of physical well-being to an extent at least equal to the effect of purely physical effort. Trouble is, we have no real comparator for the effects of manual endeavour versus the intellectual/ emotional variety.

Just when I feel that I have “pacing” nailed, my spirit determines that a little extra necessary physical and emotional endeavour will give me a boost, a wallowing in the additional achievement! And, to square the circle, this is where the anticipation motif comes into play.

The last two or three days have found me floundering somewhat in the stamina stakes, a generalized fatigue accompanied by pains in hips, knees, calves, thighs, wrists and elbows, as well as an increased sensitivity to touch and unexpected sounds. The somewhat muggy atmospheric conditions, today, served to add a persistently intermittent nagging headache to my general malaise.

On a positive note though, on Tuesday I managed to start and complete my first new painting in over three years, increased the distance I walked on Friday (on top of which I made the venture with my beloved to visit a fireplace store to order a new fire surround and gas fire for our living room). Admittedly my stress levels are raised a little in anticipation of the impending disruption. The preparedness to even contemplate this event is a massive step forward. Of such little steps forward my temporary regression is made but, I move on in hope, buoyed up by the love with which I am surrounded.

As I've not managed many postings recently, this post also appears on Mal's Murmurings and Hirsute Antiquity

Words from an Hirsute Antiquity

"Making A Splash", my blog posting for today, can be found on 'Words from an Hirsute Antiquity'!

A Place Not Quite Like Home

You know that feeling, when you sense that there are intruders in your property? Well, I’ve been feeling that kind of stress the past couple of days, with three semi-invited non fee paying B&B clients. The clients in question are three females, aged 18 – 22, who arrived on Friday night and, will be disappearing tomorrow; nieces of Helen’s owing to the chance connection of bloodline from her first husbands side of the family.

We rarely have any contact with these “guests” but, Cathy likes to keep in touch as it’s a link to her late father. The invitation was only proffered (?) at last minute, as their prior free board arrangements had to be cancelled and, Cathy only had room to accommodate their Mum & Dad. I’d already been at a quite low ebb, energy wise, before this imminent arrival was imposed on us but, I didn’t quite realize how stressful it would prove having three strangers sleeping under the same roof. In one way we hardly see them, as a strict itinerary for their visit had been established by the ex-military father, with Cathy arranging a bit of socializing for the girls.

Perhaps, the increased muscular pain levels and, the occurrence of vivid dreams disrupting my less than perfect normal sleep patterns, are a reflection of raised stress levels. With the extra bodies in the house, I’m quite reluctant to respond immediately to the demands of my erratic colon and bladder. Furthermore, I’m reluctant to enter the bedroom of strange females to switch on the modem and router located therein so, my impulsive requirements for a bit of surfing or biological demands have to be put on hold.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve nothing against our guests, no more than I have against any other stranger! Quite simply, an alien presence in one’s abode militates against it feeling like home!

Waiting

Changes elsewhere

Todays' posting, CH-CH-Ch-Changes, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'. This posting incorporates an update on "PTSD - Cause Unknown" (May 2nd 2007)

Idle Words

A light bright sunshiny morning greets me, after a night of restlessness (or at least fitful bouts of vividly naturalistic dreams scattered amongst seemingly endless periods of wakefulness); the bright and airy morning is welcome but, the real surprise is that I should feel wide awake at such an unearthly hour! Malcolm and alertness by 6.00am have not, of late, been considered the most usual of bedfellows.

Both my better judgement and the wisdom of my beloved, militate against removing myself from the duvet lair and getting dressed. Perhaps, the odd occasional aberration from my abnormal normality is permissible but, one must always reckon on the hidden cost; I’m still recuperating from the most recent setback so, it’s probably more sensible to err on the side of caution.

Helen brings the laptop to her Lord and Master, enabling him to tap out these few idle words from his divan comfort zone.

For life, love and sunshine, I give thanks.

Postings elsewhere

A new (love) Poem, THAT DAY, can be found on Mal's Factory. Meantime, I've also been posting up more pictures on Mals Paintings

Mal's murmuring again

Today's blog posting, AND SUDDENLY - But not unexpectedly!, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

Posting on Hirsute Antiquity

Today's posting, Back In The Swing, can be read on Hirsute Antiquity.

PTSD - Cause Unknown

Several years ago, whilst looking out of the living-room window, Beth (my eldest step-daughter) and myself were somewhat startled to see a heron launch off from the garden pond. For the following two or three weeks, no matter what hour I visited the pond, there were no sightings of any fish in the pond; come to think of it some frogs, which had been present the previous couple of days, were no longer in evidence. It was with a great sense of relief, and joy, that I observed the fish once again after the aforementioned interval.

So much for the fabled short memory span of goldfish; they’d managed to stay in hiding until such time as they assumed the coast was clear. Could they have been in a depressive state for all this time, a kind of post-traumatic stress disorder?

What has brought this memory to the fore is the lack of piscine sightings for the past couple of days. With the recent warmer weather, and the clarity of the water, sightings had been impossible to avoid; yesterday morning – zilch! At their usual feed time, I scattered a few floating foodsticks but, by the end of the afternoon, nothing had been touched so I netted the food out again. I caught a glimpse of one of the small fish, half hidden in the aquatic compost and pea gravel in one of the water-lily containers then, as soon as I knelt down beside the pond, it darted away. Later in the day, I caught a glimpse of one of the medium sized goldfish hiding beside one of the drainage pipes at the bottom of the pond.

Whatever has happened, I know that there are at least two fish there but, today yielded no further sightings, even of these two! One possibility is that one of the neighbourhood moggies had made a deliberate lunge for one of the piscine inhabitants; on several occasions these cats have been seen in the vicinity of the pond and, one of them, Peanuts, had recently devised a way of tilting an overhanging decoration to enable him to get a drink … strange that this feline ability to use/devise tools seems rarely, if ever, to have been recorded. This overhanging platform has now been removed!

It hardly seems likely, with present weather conditions (the lack of overly swollen rivers etc – which seems to deter them from those particular hunting grounds), that we have had a further visitor from the heronry. I live in hope that, trauma forgotten by the piscine inhabitants, I will once again be able to observe, and feed, the full glorious company. If their numbers are diminished, from whatever cause, re-stocking may be in order.

If anyone out there is aware of any research papers into “post-traumatic stress disorder” in goldfish, it would be interesting to find where they can be viewed online.

Blog Update

Today's blog posting, REALIZING THE VISION, can be found on Mal's Murmurings.

Outpacing Myself?

Why should I feel a sense of failure when I resort to pain-killers once more? I don’t know that there is an answer to that question but, I’ve always been reluctant to consume these items.

I’ve never particularly liked cocktails comprising paracetamol, codeine phosphate, ibuprofen etc and, it’s with the greatest reluctance that (as a result of the renewed cyclical dance of nagging pains in wrists, elbows, hips, knees) I had to admit positive thinking is not enough in and of itself.

Perhaps the lack of acupuncture sessions, my last two appointments having to be cancelled, has contributed to my present dis-eased state of being, or maybe my positive outlook has led recently to my overdoing things.

The problem is, I always feel that I have my ‘pacing’ under control and, attempt to finish, or at least draw to a temporary halt, any task I undertake whilst I still have a little energy in reserve.

Unfortunately, the shattered-ness only appears after many hours (even days) delay.

Why should I feel a sense of failure when I have to resort to painkillers? A simple answer could be my failure to fully appreciate how little exertion my body can cope with, no matter how much rest it takes!

Idling Along

The mouse finger’s growing tired, slip sliding through various websites, occasionally allowing me to peruse the content of the page it stumbles upon. An adventure without purpose, an aimless search through all the wonders the web has to offer but, I’m still awaiting the return of the necessary powers of concentration to give my searching some kind of focus. If only this aimlessness was my purpose, I would now be the victor; sadly there seem to be a paucity of rewards on offer for such unwitting purposelessness!

The rewards are much greater when I idle my time away sat on the bench beside the garden pond, observing the frenetic activity of sundry insects amongst the pebbles, hovering over the pond and rockery and, generally engaging in the necessary tasks for their survival. The clarity of the pond water is quite remarkable, a reward for the earlier application of barley straw extract and Sludge Buster. Despite the timidity of the ponds piscine inhabitants, they still eagerly surface on my first visit of the day in anticipation of their feed yet, at other times, they dart for cover at the merest hint of a shadow cast upon the water.

All too frequently, I become distracted by the thought of necessary gardening tasks and, despite the exercise of admirable restraint, yield to their beckoning. Although I enjoy pottering about, and sometimes getting my hands dirty, it’s still far too easy to overdo it. At times, I think it would be much better if exhaustion displayed itself as a preventative, rather than in its excruciatingly numbing delayed post-exertional manifestation.

All that being said, I still find it easy to enjoy life, although any socializing activity is strictly rationed; I love sharing my life with Helen, imbibing the odd glass of fermented grape juice and, consuming the fruits of my cookery experiments. Life would be so much harder without such a wonderful encouraging partner, certainly much duller.

For all that life has given me I give thanks, and rejoice in this day the Lord has made.

Aftermath

Every action seems to have its cost, albeit far from predictable. Recent weekends away proved most beneficial in their demonstration that, after several years when such a venture was beyond even the least consideration, I really was improving in the health stakes.

Although something like two-thirds of my time away was spent resting, more from necessity than choice, on each occasion the return home found me running on adrenalin, as I set to necessary tasks in house and garden. Recent bright days drew me into the garden once more, just a bit of light pottering about, but it didn’t take long to realize that my “pacing” had gone somewhat awry!

There’s something gnawingly frustrating about that sensation, when the usual aches and pains, merge into an all encompassing blanket of exhaustion; a kind of leaden hollowness, underpinned by spasmodically searing twinges, somehow blanks out the least residual remnant of ones power of concentration.

Suddenly, in the midst of typing this reason for the paucity of recent blog postings, I’m transfixed by the liquid alto trilling of a blackbird on the garden shed; that simple call eradicates any risk of drifting into self-pity. Quite frequently I feel that there is no need to venture any further than the boundaries of our garden. Sitting on the bench beside the pond, watching the goldfish devour the foodsticks, whilst on the neighbouring rockery the peacock butterflies, and honey bees, are drawn to the heathers, a sense of contentment floods my being. Contentedly fatigued, that phrase just about captures the present state of play.

What I was going to say, before this gentle interruption, was that recent days have found me unable to concentrate sufficiently to check my e-mail boxes and, my normally regular swift surfing of news websites has been honoured more in the breach than by its observance. A blank ‘Word’ page proves far too daunting, the prospect of painting it in words too challenging a task, but I will be back!

In life and love and friendship, I feel truly blessed.

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

This post also appears on 'Mal's Murmurings' and 'Hirsute Antiquity'

The Day of Resurrection

Jesus died as a victim of Imperial Occupation and Piety - the resurrection symbolizes overcoming oppression and injustice

A Sequel

A sequel to yesterday's posting, HOMECOMING, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

Malcolm's Travellers Tale

Once again, I've managed a weekend away and apart from a generalized fatigue and the usual aches I'm here to tell the tale!

24th March 2007

As we journey westwards, the day brightens and, once again I’m enraptured by the beauty on our doorstep as we traverse the dales and moorland. As we enter Lancashire, the roadside welcome sign is subtitled “Where Everyone Is Welcome”; I find myself wondering whether our return journey will witness a sign reading “Where No One Cares” as we re-enter God’s own county. The journey goes smoothly and, neither myself nor ma belle chauffeuse feel too exhausted by the effort.

Having signed in at the Travel Inn, my first impulse is to go and have a lie-down on the bed. After a brief rest, we look out of the window and see our friends Peter & Pamela have arrived at the nearby bar so, duty calls us to venture across and share a few glasses of vino before deciding on our evening meal. The conversation flows quite fluidly, after all, we’ve got a couple of years to catch up on since our previous meeting. That’s the beautiful thing about friendship, it’s almost as if the conversation continues from just the day before; an understanding of each others humour and situation makes things so much easier. Pamela and I are the experienced old crocks, Pamela having been a wheelchair user for many years now, although the image in my mind of her racing up fellsides, Peter and I breathlessly following, still seems fresh.

I’ve known the two P’s since university days and, Peter was best man when I married Helen seven brief years ago. Much as travelling disagrees with me, meeting up with old friends makes it most worthwhile. By the time we’ve had our meal, Pamela shows obvious signs of flagging so, we bid our adieus and, it’s not that much later when fatigue takes over for Helen and myself so, an early night is called for.


25th March 2007

To my surprise, we managed to make it down for breakfast in good time but, those old weary blues caught up with me by the time we’d ventured back to our room. A further lie down was called for and, this accounted for the rest of the morning (and early afternoon). By 2.00PM we were ready to head off to Peter & Pamela’s abode and, it wasn’t long before we ventured across to their wine cellar to select a bottle of bubbly. Conversation found its own direction and, we chatted about their Australian holiday as we looked at a few of the copious quantity of photos taken on that occasion as well as venturing down memory lane. For our meal we enjoyed one of Peter’s celebrated kipper and egg kedgerees accompanied by one of Tony Laithwaite’s Chilean Sauvignons. I declined the dessert, which the other three managed to demolish without my participation.

We arrived back at the hotel by 9.00PM, switched on the telly to watch what turned out to be a Jane Austen travesty, switched off the telly after about twenty minutes of this abhorrence and, decided it was time for an early night.


26th March 2007

Once more, this time slightly more of a struggle, made it down in time for breakfast then ventured back to the room where the need for rest was instantly apparent. I duly settled on the bed for forty winks but, when the staff came round to clean the room around 11.00AM I was sound asleep. Emerged from my slumbers at 11.30AM and we went out to sit and have a coffee on the benches outside of the bar whilst the necessary tasks were fulfilled by room service. Back to the room for a bit more rest and, I was just about alert by our friends arrived to direct us to their local, ‘The Hest Bank’. This proved a great opportunity to meet their friends, from Geriatrics Corner, much feted by both Peter and Pamela in their respective blogs. The most difficult decision for me to make, on this occasion, was that between ‘Black Sheep’, ‘Timothy Taylor’s Landlord’ or ‘Caledonian’. A couple of pints of ‘Black Sheep’ sufficed for me before we perused the menu. After an enjoyable meal, it was once more time to bid our farewells, an early night once more being a necessary part of our agenda.

more on 'mal's murmurings'

Yesterday's posting, FROM UNPREDICTABILITY TO AFFIRMATION, can be found on MAL's MURMURINGS.

Showers Of Blessing

Oh, the joy, the ecstasy! Who would have thought a piece of moulded plastic, with extendable parts, could be the source of so much pleasure. When my wife purchased it, she thought only of its utilitarian value; in no way could she have imagined the highs produced by this simple device. And the beauty of it is, no batteries required but, such pleasurable moistening!

Needless to say, the device could only be obtained from a shop specializing in such appliances. Where would we be without these specialist outlets?

For more months than I care to remember, a visit to the shower room was fraught with danger. If my beloved wasn’t around, there was no chance of me risking the experience; a sense of aching dis-equilibrium, of imminent collapse, made me fearful of stepping into the shower unattended. For far too long, my stubbornness resisted the beloved’s suggestion that some bath or shower aids would help. Personal hygiene was something reluctantly attended to. No matter how long the preceding period of bed-rest, by the time I’d showered and towelled I was so shattered that a further hours rest was called for before I could even consider the exertion required to clothe myself. Rather than being a refreshing experience, the effort involved ensured it was an extremely enervating one.

There are still many occasions when I seem to lack the necessary stamina to get into the shower-bath and, I’m ashamed to admit that showering is not a daily occurrence. Once in the shower though, the stable plastic seat has made a world of difference and, I revel in the warm soft needles of H2O as they caress and soothe my aching muscles.

These days, I can accomplish so much more than seemed possible even a few months ago and, for that I give thanks. I rejoice in the showers of blessing which make life so rich and wonderful. In everything give thanks.

Two watercolours on Garbled Noise

TWO WATERCOLOURS, by yours truly, have been posted on GARBLED NOISE

Freshly Minted

'SPLASH INTO SPRING', a brand new poem by yours truly, can be found on the new multi-contributor blog GARBLED NOISE!

A brief posting can be found on "Words from an Hirsute Antiquity".

Busy Doing Nothing

Busy doing nothing – at least that’s how I’ve felt the past few days. After a season of reasonably good days, it comes as something of a shock to return to a state of washed-out-ness, that just a few short months ago was my daily norm. Even those muscles I hadn’t realized existed seem to ache today, the ache varying in intensity from a weary numbness to a tightly wrapped band of spikes surrounding each sinew.

Busy doing nothing; at least the time has flown by, despite my routine of minimal activity. I lose count of the hours spent observing the piscine activity in our new aquarium. The three fantail goldfish, and five white cloud minnows, seem to utilize every inch of their 180 litre home. Callie, the calico fantail (please note the total lack of imagination in the naming), seems like a real adventurer now, compared to the nervously timid creature we saw both before and after her treatment for a swimbladder infection in her old residence. Of course she’s no longer confronted by the bullying antics of Jimmy, a common or garden variety of goldfish, currently swimming solo in one of the old tanks prior to his introduction to the inmates of the garden pond come April.

Busy doing nothing; I did, in the course of the week manage a couple of visits down to ‘Open Church’ (for Fairtrade coffee and a chat) and, took my beloved out for a meal at The Park on Thursday. Each of these outings would have been unimaginable just one year ago, so I’ve no cause for complaint. All in all, I feel like a most privileged person; to be loved by, and be in love with, ma belle amoureuse, to have food in my belly, a roof over my head, and a warm fire to sit by.

Take nothing and no-one for granted, just take each day as it comes and, in everything give thanks.

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

Culture Clash?

A Sequel

The sequel to 'A Weekend Venture', Sunshine, Fish and shocks that flesh is heir to
can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

A Weekend Venture

Friday 23 February 2007

A slow start to the day, not much change there but, today’s going to be rather different from over three years of recent experience. A gentle sense of trepidation haunts the morning hours; the gardener arrives to carry out a few tasks and, I decide it’s time for a leisurely shower before I get dressed and set up for what the day has in store. Muscle, joint and glandular twinges were already in evidence as soon as the transformation from somnolence to wakefulness had occurred, so a peremptory dose of codeine phosphate and paracetamol was called for.

Another big adventure for yours truly is on the menu, as Helen packs the suitcases in the car, in preparation for our weekend excursion to Liverpool. On Sunday, Helen’s step-mum will be celebrating her entry into the octogenarian stakes; come to think of it, in a mere 17 years and 4 months I too could be entitled to enter those same stakes.

As we venture out across, and beyond, the Yorkshire Dales, the sun smiles on us and them; we are both truly captivated by Yorkshires wonderful rolling and rounded hills populated by sheep, in both the wilder moorlands and more verdant territory. For all that I appreciate the scenery, the journey seems in some sense to be a kind of endurance test. Questions roll through my mind, about how I’m going to cope, both with the journey and being away from home for a few days. More importantly, are my spastic colon and temperamental bladder going to behave themselves?

We choose to travel a more roundabout route as, neither ma belle chauffeuse nor myself are over enamoured of the main (M62) motorway route. More than half of our journey is travelled along ‘A’ roads before we venture into Motorway territory, with rapid switches between M6, M58, M57 and the tail end of the M62 into Liverpool. Only a couple of stops are made en-route, to stretch ones limbs, unpack and devour the sandwiches, quick nicotine fix pour moi. And, of course, my bladder screams out for relief, partly from a slight sense of panic but largely owing to a rather disordered processing and retention facility.

In total, the outward journey takes about 3 ½ hours by the time we reach Kathleen’s (Helens’ step-mum) to say Hi and partake of a nice cuppa and a cookie. After this brief respite, we head for the Innkeepers Lodge (Liverpool South) where we’ll be spending the next three nights. With my lack of travelling experience, over recent years, it’s a remarkable sense of achievement that overwhelms me on arrival. Take stock: I’ve arrived at my destination, almost panic free and with scarcely more than my usual quota of sundry aches and pains; even the disorientation is less than I’d anticipated.

Once we’ve moved our baggage into the room, and rested a wee while, we venture across to the Toby Carvery. For some reason Carverys have never been a favourite dining place for me but, at least there was a warm Liverpudlian welcome and I felt it may be worth a try; truth be told, by this time, I was rather too de-energised to venture farther afield. My beloved ordered a mountainous plateful of salad, enriched with glazed ham and turkey, whilst I settled for the baked cod in cheese sauce. To accompany the cod, I helped myself to the generously buttered new potatoes, roast parsnips, broccoli and swede. Quite surprisingly, the roast parsnips proved an excellent companion to the baked cod. I avoided the roast potatoes as, having once tasted my very own recipe herbed and spiced roast potatoes all others are but warmed up crispy coated sludge.

Although I became quite disorientated, and feeling totally discomforted on being seated in the restaurant, I felt much more at ease once an adjacent table was vacated. I swiftly realized that a lot of my dis-ease had been very akin to claustrophobia.

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

Saturday 24th February

Awoke early this morning, having found it impossible to adjust to the rather worn out mattress in our room; no matter how much I needed sleep, a soggy sprung mattress somehow made me too well aware of the care worn spring coils. The fact that I had some weird dreams seemed to demonstrate that some time had been spent in the arms of Morpheus but, the overall nocturnal experience was of the sound of speeding motors, the sound of raucous chatter and laughter both internal and external to the Lodge where we are staying, and a distinctive unease with the provided sleeping apparatus.

Breakfast was a most satisfactory affair, a wide range of cereals, teas, croissants, and toasting bread as well as fresh fruit. The chocolate croissants were a special treat. Breakfast concluded, we headed back to our room for some necessary rest; this was to be discovery time as I realized that the bed was reasonably comfortable if one lay on top of the duvet so, perhaps that will be tonight’s routine, at least on my part.

Duly rested, we then walked over to visit Helen’s step-mum once more and, after a chat, I donned my troubleshooting mantle as Kathleen’s computer and printer have been causing a few problems of late. Once I’d upgraded and updated the antivirus, the attempt at problem solving was underway; no matter how tired I may feel I do enjoy the occasional technological challenge although, on this occasion, I can only admit to about 70% success.

Following a light lunch chez Kathleen, we headed back to the Lodge for another rest period…….

Rest was to be a keynote of the weekend, primarily from necessity, and a visit we planned to Tate Liverpool seemed too much to tackle. The afternoon was spent back in our room, Helen managing to catch up on some reading whilst I drifted in and out of snoozedom.

Come early evening, we ventured across the Aigburth Road to view the menus at the ‘Madhari’ and ‘Gulshan’ Indian restaurants. Though once a regular frequenter of such establishments, it’s several years since my last visit, frequently preferring my own unique blends of spices and herbs. The ‘Gulshan’ seemed like a rather upmarket large restaurant, fully Air-conditioned, and winner of several national curry house awards whereas the ‘Madhari’ was a much more domestic type of establishment, nothing poncy here just real quality food and, I quite enjoyed the Bollywood musical selection playing quietly in the background.

Our welcome at the Madhari couldn’t have been warmer, the warmth matched only by the cuisine; whilst Helen settled for the Chicken Shaslick, served sizzling hot from a trolley and accompanied with salad and pilau rice. My choice was a Mixed Tandoori Kohari which completely surpassed any expectations! We chose to have garlic Naan bread with the meal, not having realized how generous their portions of the main dish and the pilau rice would be. Whilst we waited for our meal, a good range of pickles and chutneys were supplied to sample together with the poppadums.

On return to our room, rest and relaxation was the order of the evening.

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

Sunday 25th February

Sunday was really the reason for our visit, a lunchtime and early afternoon celebration of Kathleen’s 80th Birthday, at Liverpool Cricket Club (one hundred yards down the road from where we were staying). In the morning I was thoroughly and achingly shattered and, I seriously started to wonder if I’d be up to attending the celebrations. By mid-day, I started to feel a little brighter; meantime, our daughters had popped in to see us and headed off back to the cricket club. Half-an-hour later, my beloved and I ventured along there too. All 58 0f the invited guests had turned up for the occasion, and I entered with a degree of anxiety, not having been able to attend any such social event for the past few years. At least I had the safety blanket of our accommodation being in such close proximity, had I not been able to cope. In the event, I enjoyed the buffet, my beloved selecting all the items she knew I would enjoy and, I even went on to enjoy the speeches and the musical entertainment provided by flute and keyboard, and arrangements for flute and guitar specially composed for the occasion; there is such an array of musical talent amongst Helen’s nephews and nieces. It reminded me of our wedding ceremony when Nichola (the flautist) and Matthew (keyboards and guitar) performed a jazz piece composed by Matthew for the occasion.

To my surprise, I coped admirably with the whole event. I rejoice in the fact that even six months ago it would have been impossible for me to have anticipated, the journey to Liverpool, the stay at the Inn or participating in such birthday celebrations. It’s amazing how often I am compelled to count my many blessings!

Where Did That Itch Go?

Today is Helen & My Seventh Wedding Anniversary and, as yet there's nothing I need to scratch! Our love just continues to grow!

Catching Up can be found elsewhere

Today's main blog posting, 'Catching Up (with some fishy business)', can be found on Mal's Murmurings.

New Poem

This afternoon, I have posted a freshly completed poem - MIDWINTER TREES - on both Mal's Factory and Hirsute Antiquity

4.20PM : A further poem - A NOBLE SILENCE - can also be found on the same blogs!

Blog Updates

Today's posting, AN EXTRA RAY OF SUNSHINE, can be found on 'Hirsute Antiquity'.

Yesterday's posting, A QUESTION OF PROPORTION, is on 'Mal's Murmurings'

What A Difference A Day Makes

Sunday was yet another day of bright blue skies, sufficiently bright to arouse me early from the duvet realm; quite unusually, I was up and dressed by 9.00AM. After enjoying a cooked breakfast, fatigue soon hunted me down, and necessitated a return to the bedroom for a rest; it must have been too much of a shock to my nervous system, springing out of bed at such an early hour (by recent years standards) . Many of the aches, and generally leaden demeanour of the lower limbs, that I’d anticipated on Saturday, finally caught up with me by mid-afternoon.

I managed to remain grateful that, I’m generally feeling so much better than at the same point (in the calendar) last year; Sunday’s aches are veering towards the dull throb end of the spectrum, frustrating, but far better than the kind of acute pain which totally disables the relaxation mechanism.

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This morning, my emergence into the day was of the heavily sluggish variety, feeling catarrhally bruised and choked, in both sinus and throat, a throbbing intermittent earache serves as counterpoint to a touch sensitive tenderness of the glands under the chin. I resist the urge to be tempted out to play under the bright clear sky. By 11.15AM, I manage, albeit reluctantly, to release myself from the duvet lair.

A venture to the bathroom, in eager anticipation of a refreshing shower, was somewhat thwarted when, having washed my face and undercarriage, I flopped onto the shower seat and totally lacked the stamina or impulse to carry out the rest of the cleansing operation. Could this still be payback from Friday’s overstretching?

Two-fifteen in the afternoon, finds me taking a sauntering stroll to the local shops to obtain a nicotine fix, the air is gently bracing and, within these few hundred yards I find myself struggling to stifle an overwhelming desire to yawn. The yawn wins out, again and again. By now, my right lower limb starts to feel crushed by a wide heavy ankle bracelet of pins and needles.

Back in the house, I swiftly yield to an afternoon nap. These forty winks fail to refresh and, I pick up the laptop in an attempt to overcome my lethargy. Whether it will succeed remains to be seen but, at least I’ve managed to tap out these few uninspiring words.

It Might As Well Be Spring

Last night the stars were so brightly sharp, it almost felt like one was viewing every marker of the constellations, rather than the odd solitary frontiersman. Of course, after such nocturnal clarity, a sharp frost swathed the ground by morning. By mid-day though, I was sat out on the bench beside the garden pond in shirt-sleeves; can this really be the north of England at the beginning of February.

After yesterday’s endeavours, relaxation was of the essence and, after a short time, I was able to ignore 90% of my muscular and joint aches and pains; these were of course my reward for Friday’s efforts. Meantime, my beloved had donned her gardening gear and, womanfully tackled some necessary tidying up. For me, gardening became a delightful spectator sport! Mind you, I enjoy watching ma belle whether relaxing or endeavouring; I’m just so proud to be her other half.

Several ladybirds clambered through the undergrowth and, a cirrus cloud of midges’ hyperactivated above the pond. Bliss was it in that day…, as I basked in the gently warming sunglow. The highlight of my inactivity was a formation flight of honking geese overhead; an open umbrella headed the flight, with two small inverted V’s immediately below its shelter. A larger V formation followed, with a straight line completing the arrow-like direction marker. As they moved away, I revelled in the gentle oscillation of their synchronized flapping wings as they soared across the clear blue sky.

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

Mal Mutters On!

Today's blog posting, CATCHING UP WITH MYSELF, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

Just An ORDINARY Day?

There’s no such thing as an ordinary day, albeit I too often consider them as regular events. Each new moment is just that, new; “you can’t step into the same river twice”, come to think of it, you can’t even step into the same river once! All is in a constant state of flux, we are swamped with new events, decisions, purposes etc., and so, what can possibly be ordinary about it?

On other occasions, we may protest that a day has been uneventful when, what we really mean is that there have been no dramatic incidents or, we’ve not met anybody new, or we drank the same type of coffee as we did yesterday. Sorry, but if you really need a gangland slaying on the doorstep for you to make the effort to get out of bed and go about your daily chores, give me the mundane.

For me, time passes all too swiftly, even when my sole function is to sit and breathe, and stare into space, for great chunks of it. And, of course, there are always decisions to make; do I get some breakfast before I get dressed, do I feel sufficiently energised to take a shower or, do I get dressed now and take a shower later (if I really need it)? All these decisions are made in my first state of semi-alertness after a restless, or even a more restful, nights sleep. And there’s questions to be asked, vital topics like “did the dream wake me up?” or “what exactly was that dream about?”, “is it really Tuesday already?”

Each day is full of excitement and demands, sometimes the demands are too great to cope with; dare I risk seeming lazy if I don’t do it; if I perform such and such a task will I suffer from some sort of post-exertional malaise?

Today has been an atypical ordinary day. I managed to consume the coffee, which my beloved had left on the bedside table before going off to work, whilst it was still reasonably hot. Removed myself, slowly, from the duvet realm, checked my e-mails before getting dressed and, half drowsily stumbled my way downstairs to grab a banana and a bowl of cereal. A reasonably brisk hobble to the local shops then ensued. Next I illuminated the small aquarium and, subsequently fed the inhabitants thereof. A similar practise was involved in dealing with the main aquarium.

When my beloved returned from work, I prepared a delicious lightly spiced and generously herbed trout and peppers dish served with wholegrain pasta, which we eagerly devoured in the joyously stimulating company of Ross Noble (Radio 4 – 6.30pm). In the early evening I managed to sort out a recurring problem my beloved has been having, with ‘Word’, on the computer at work. To solve it, I had to first recreate it from my beloved’s verbal description. Having recreated the problem, it took little time to resolve!

So my halo has been well and truly buffed up by the encouraging response from my other half. Amidst all that activity, I even remembered to sort out a bottle to pop in the fridge; the consumption of its vinous content is imminent.

This has been an ordinary day indeed. Long live ordinary days!

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

The Might of the Transnationals - The Plight of the Poor

A new report from Christian Aid, 'A Rich Seam: Who benefits from rising commodity prices?' , has been published by Christian Aid. The report detailing the shameful imbalance can be downloaded from http://www.christianaid.org.uk/indepth/0701mining/index.htm

Early One Morning

An early morning posting (early by my standards at least), 'RAUCOUS FROLICS', can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'

A New Beginning

'FIRST RITE', my first new poem for 2007, can be found on both 'Mal's Factory' and 'Hirsute Antiquity'.

A few small steps for man ...

Today's posting, A FREAK OF FITNESS, can be found on both 'Mal's Murmurings' and 'Hirsute Antiquity' (Malcolm's blog on MySpace).

If any of my readers are on 'MySpace' you're more than welcome to visit Malcolm there!

A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall

A day of food and thunder, comestibles and hailstones, donner und blitzen and, quelling the stomach’s rumble. Though much of the morning was spent in the duvet realm, a mid-morning glimpse of alertness was fuelled by bacon and black pudding prepared by my beloved. My sole exercise was provided by a visit to the local shops at lunchtime, to pander to my nicotine craving. The chilling icy wind, on this brief excursion, proferred no clues as to subsequent meteorological events.

On return from the shop I set to preparing a salmon and pepper savoury rice dish, to share with my beloved. After a brief interval, allowing the meal to be properly digested, my thoughts returned to food. This time, preparation of a casserole for Sunday lunch was the priority. First, I sweated a generosity of onions in paprika, turmeric, ginger and garlic imbued olive oil, before adding four chicken breasts to the equation. More lashings of paprika and ginger were called for, as the chicken sizzled, before adding a generous portion of red and green peppers, sliced mushrooms and, having diced the sizzling breasts with a wooden spatula, a tin of plum tomatoes, to the mix. Of course, it’s impossible for me to utilize plum tomatoes without adding lots of freshly ground black pepper to the mix, so the act was dutifully performed.

Midway through these preparations, a peal of thunder proved a little distracting, especially as it followed the lightning flash within a second. The lightning strikes were obviously quite localized, so a disconnecting of the TV aerial was called for, before heading back to the kitchen. Transfer all ingredients from griddle pan into a couple of casserole dishes and top them up with some chicken and vegetable gravy. Finally, I popped the casseroles into a medium heat oven to simmer for a while, before transporting myself to the living room.

All the while torrential rain was much in evidence, and this suddenly transformed into hailstones which seemed intent on finding a way to break through the double glazing. At the moment we’re feeling quite under siege, hemmed in by howling winds, hailstones, and a thunderstorm.

All that remains to do is turn up the fire, open a decent bottle of wine and, catch up on some videos or DVD’s – but perhaps a little snack will also be in order!

Meantime, the thought occurs to me that the garden pond was already close to the point of overflow before this latest downpour. I trust that the fish are safely ensconced amidst the planters and clay pipes at the bottom of the pond; I’d hate to think of them getting washed away!

Faith posting on Mal's Murmurings

A further posting for today, FAITH MATTERS, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

Viewing Habits

Howling gales and lashing rain are, once again, the order of the day. Today, a degree of comfort is felt, a sense of gratitude that I have no need to venture out and face, in the flesh so to speak, these inhospitable elements!

The howling wind seems to possess many of the qualities of the talentless oiks, upgraded to the status of celebrity, by programmes like ‘Big Brother’; it makes a lot of noise and, its most noticeable effect is of a negative variety. The wind usually manages to blow itself out after a limited period of time, hopefully these ‘celebrities’ will follow suit. The big problem, for me, is to understand why anyone with a modicum of talent or intelligence should even consider subjecting themselves to this type of inane indignity?

I admit that I have never watched the aforementioned programme so, my understanding is based only on hearsay; hearsay is so potent that I have no desire to make amends for this omission in my viewing habits.

At least looking out, through a rain streaked windowpane, at our battered and windswept garden gives me something worthwhile to watch!

For A Change

Today's blog posting, CONSTANT CHANGE, can be found on Mal's Murmurings!

Rise and Shine

Much of the morning was sunshiny and bright, although most of my information on that score results from an interpretative process, assessing the degree of brightness which penetrated the bedroom curtains. Although my body demanded an early night, last evening, I still found it impossible to release myself from the duvet realm before 11.15AM.

First port of call was the bathroom where, my beloved having securely installed a shower seat, I was able to luxuriate in its warmly soothing spray. Although the aches and pains, emanating from the Achilles tendon, have considerably subsided during the past few days (the meloxicam, codeine and paracetamol diet having a degree of success) I am still unable to take the amount of exercise that I’d gradually built up to over the preceding twelve months.

On Friday, Helen dropped me off at ‘Open Church’ where I enjoyed chatting with a few of the old faithfuls but, the walk back home proved a rather fatiguing experience, especially with the battle against a bustling wind which misguidedly attempted to aid me on my journey. Yesterday, I managed to attend a coffee morning at the neighbourhood chapel, with my beloved who then chauffeured me down for lunch at ‘The Park’ (formerly ‘The Hornbeam’) our local Brewer’s Fayre which has attempted, much to our disgust to go a little more upmarket. Having got up the nerve to venture in there, for the first time since the revamp/refurbishment last September, the experience proved most rewarding.

Dining out can be a pleasant experience, as long as I don’t expect it to produce the quality of food that I manage to prepare. The general ambience of ‘The Park’ proved cosily welcoming, unexpectedly so considering they describe themselves as a venue for ‘Contemporary Dining & Drinking’. I am pleased to report, a surprisingly unpretentious ambience and menu; a comfortably relaxed lunchtime experience!

So, I return to the bright sunshiny morning, although my first venture out was strictly speaking early afternoon. I hobbled along to the local 7-11 shop for a packet of cigs, shortly after noon, enjoying the crisp brightness rather more than my right leg appreciated the stick assisted exertion. This ten minute venture provided sufficient exercise to see me through the remainder of the day.

Before the tendon inflammation entered my life experience, I’d managed to reduce my nocturnal bed rest requirement to between 10 and 10 ½ hours but, following the limb directed major sleep deprivation it has recently increased to between 11 and 13 hours. Some severe disciplining may be called for!

Today's utterance

Today's posting, "Rhubarb, rhubarb ..." can be found on both 'Mal's Murmurings' and 'Hirsute Antiquity'!

The variegated dance of life

Oh, the bliss … a wonderful return to the almost normal disrupted sleep pattern. The cocktail, of anti-inflammatories and analgesics, has finally started to kick in and, my traditional mode of randomly disrupted bouts of sleep feels just great! What a contrast to the sleep disrupted pattern of acutely pained wakefulness.

The staircase now proves less of an obstacle, more of a routine; the exercise has been honed to a fine art of stick and handrail assisted good leg lead on the ascent, pained leg lead for the descent. My hobbling around, within the confines of the house, is an altogether less excruciating experience; I occasionally manage to maintain an upright posture, as opposed to a crooked one, during these ambulations.

The dance of life maintains an endless fascination. I rejoice in this day the Lord has made!

Not here - but elsewhere

Hirsute Antiquity - Malcolm in 'MySpace' guise - has today posted "Content - but not complacent"!

Mal's Murmuring Again

Today's posting, A Long Slow Getting Nowhere, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.