Mal murmurs on avian matters

Todays blog posting, STAKING A CLAIM, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

For further recent postings (poetry), don't forget to visit 'ARCHIVE MINED and FRESHLY SPUN' and 'MAL's FACTORY'

FREE BURMA

Dylan Patrello

Just wanted to share this video.

Congratulations Sir Terry

So, Sir Terence of Wogan has been voted the BBC Radio2 Ultimate Icon of the past forty years

And some people have the gall to accuse the media of dumbing down?

Makes you think.

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For those of you beyond our islands shoreline, I should point out that without the presence of Sir Terry the world would be a place in which we encountered wars, terrorist threats, inequalities, floods …. indeed the list is endless.

Had Wogan not been grasped from the very jaws of Radio Telefís Éireann then we would all probably have no idea that such greatness could exist this side of heaven.

Ein kleines nachtdenken

How does one explain an awareness of being unaware, a drifting within a static void, a painless ache; why, indeed, should one want to capture and explain such an undeserved and undesirable experience? Perhaps it’s the desire to simply interpret a non-experience in such a way that life makes sense. It’s not so much a dark night of the soul as a plenum void!

The moment is everything and yet feels like the very antithesis of anything, a sense of detachment from daily (or any) reality. Why do I use words? Because they’re there; maybe that’s the reason why!

Follow up

A follow up posting, to the one immediately below, can be found on 'Mal's Murmuring' - If you can't stand the aches ... get into the kitchen.

Return of the hammer wielding fiends

Once more the wielders of the lead cored, matted felt, lump hammers are on the rampage. Yesterdays aches, and nagging bruised feeling in the armpits, are now accompanied by a bruised sensation in limbs and torso; even my head has not escaped the fiends’ nocturnal havoc! To be honest, my head feels as if it has been swathed in blankets with the occasional tourniquet applied around temples, eyes, ears and jaw-line.

A sharp spasmodic cramping pain in the right lower limb plays counterpoint to the dull aching shoulders and upper limbs. For a few days the discomforting throbbing armpit has been doing its darnedest to make me forget the progress I’ve been making during 2007. For the first time in many months, the helping presence of my beloved was essential as I showered this morning and, a little rest period following this dowsing imposed itself upon me.

I trust that this minor setback will be swiftly overcome; perhaps it’s simply a belated reaction to the drained resources of physical and emotional stamina consequent upon my recent holiday excursion. Falling falteringly asleep mid-afternoon, in recent days, was quite probably the hammer wielders warning signal.

At least these dully throbbing visitations are not recurring with the same frequency nor, hopefully, of such sustained duration, as was my lot in earlier times.

Mal's Passion

Today's blog posting, A TALE OF PASSION, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

If at first .....

When I grow up I want to be a helicopter pilot; I’m just wondering if, when I’m able to come off incapacity, either Yes2Work or the local Job Centre will be able to arrange for me to obtain the necessary training. It’s quite strange really, as a wee small boy I always wanted to be a test pilot until someone disillusioned me by saying I’d need to work at my maths and, perhaps, being good at PE would help. You can barely imagine just how shattered this young lad’s dreams were, to be obstructed at one fell stroke, on two counts, from the possibility of pursuing my dreams.

Anyway, from the age of 14 onwards, I absolutely knew I wanted to do nursing and even made a stab at it when I came of age. When that fell through, there was no possibility of my considering a flying career (even had I been qualified) as the best route would have been through HMs forces which didn’t sit well with my commitment to CND and Committee of 100. Perhaps my (very) leftward political inclination would also have militated against any attempt to join such an augustly representative body of the establishment!

Ignore that slight wander down the allotment path as we return to the matter in hand. Since my first encounter with flying models at that fateful barbecue it seems as if the die has been cast. It’s definitely helicopters for me; I’ve already learnt to crash models and not let it deter me. My determination astonishes me.

My first model, a featherweight Picoo Z proved a natural to crash and bounce, it really is incredible that such a lightweight machine can plummet so rapidly with only the slightest release of the throttle. Within a month, of that first purchase, I decided to upgrade to an ESky Lama V3 and, in less than 24 hours, simply practising ‘bunny hops’ it was necessary to replace three of the four rotor blades. Even the hops proved difficult as the aircraft insisted on a degree of reverse motion as I throttled up. Our friend Mahmood sorted this problem for me yesterday by adjusting the swashplate and off to the practise flight we went. The only thing I managed to break this time was part of the tail trim (if you don’t count a further chipped rotor blade)!

I’ve now installed the FMS flight simulator on my PC and despite careful calibration am still managing to crash any model I set my hand to. If I fly at altitude it’s all too easy to keep aloft but, that swiftly becomes boring! The only solution seems to be to try the real aircraft and, being so well primed in the difficulties, I would ensure that I exercise all due caution and observe all safety precautions when my life’s at stake. It must be difficult for anyone who has not had a major crash to appreciate just how safety conscious one has to be!

When I grow up I’m going to be a born-again dreamer. It’s better to have tried and failed than never to have risked at all!

QUITE AN EFFORT!

(my) Big Brother was watching us for this customary promenade picture

In spite of my customary post-journeying fatigue, the little holiday jaunt now seems far away. Valiantly struggling against my post-exertional malaise, I seem to have accomplished much since returning to my cherished hearth and home on Thursday afternoon.

Cathy had carefully nurtured the fish, in both pond and aquarium, as well as the tomato plants, in our absence and, only one of the chilli plants was gasping for water. ‘Tis incredible the restorative power of H2O, although I must admit to a preference for rather more vinous liquids.

Friday found me rinsing the pond filters, dismantling and cleaning the pump from the same piscine habitat, and nervously manning the skillet (the first time for over a week) to produce a spicy salmon pasta dish. I’m sure the sight of my halo must dazzle any beholder. What else have I achieved, you may well wonder; I shamefacedly admit to destroying and having to replace three of the four rotor blades on my new and more sophisticated / powerful model helicopter (acquired whilst visiting my brother).

Meantime, I’ve managed to restore my oldest PC, following a major system collapse and, have also struggled since last evening to overcome a major problem with Helen’s new laptop. For this latter instance I had to resort to backing up all the documents, and Outlook Express files, to an external disk. In fact, the problems were such that I could only back up the documents over the network as the laptop refused to co-operate with the external drive! Having backed up these files, I set to wiping the C drive and re-install the machine to its factory settings. Much re-installing of programmes and configuring of the network was subsequently required.

Come to think of it, a minute amount of my holiday time was also spent fixing a computer for my brother, primarily sorting out its sluggishness by cleaning and defragging the registry before adding some more RAM. The machine certainly seemed to hurtle through its tasks with three times the memory installed.

But what of the holiday; if you really must know a very enjoyable time was had by all. Just for the pleasure of visiting my brother and sister-in law, I incidentally put myself through a kind of hell that only fellow sufferers from panic attacks and a dislike of travel could understand.

It made a really great change to visit the seafront each day in such affable company. The journey there was the furthest I’d travelled in a single day for longer than I can remember, in itself that makes it a major milestone. It was also a bonus that the Sussex Model Centre was in such close proximity but, my first two attempts to cross the threshold of this emporium were thwarted by an absence of sufficient physical or emotional stamina!

Having travelled down on the Friday, we were treated to a wonderful Indian meal in Worthing, courtesy of Linda (Jan’s sister) and her better half Russell. (That’s not to say that our hosts Dave and Jan had not previously pandered to our need for victuals; these were in plentiful supply!) Yet another first for me, to dine out in a busy restaurant for a couple of hours, a feat I had been unable to contemplate during most of the past four years.

The morning that we were due to set off on our excursion South, a severe panic attack almost led to me calling the whole thing off and, as history always has a knack of repeating itself, I spent an horrendous half-hour in the stygian gloom of panic, nausea and stomach cramps on the first leg of our journey home but, I (almost) willingly admit that the effort was worth it!

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

twilight - groynes and boulders

Click image to see larger version

WORTH the jouneyING

Having just returned from a weeks visit to my brother and sister-in-law on the South coast, my blog postings have been temporarily on hold. Unfortunately my stamina doesn't quite run to expressing all I have to say. Meantime, I've just posted a brand new poem, FLOCKS AND CONGREGATIONS, on both 'Mal's Factory' and 'Archive Mined and Freshly Spun'.

In Questionable Taste

Today's blog posting, A QUESTION OF TASTE, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

Backfiring

Just pop your can in here (picture of a recycle bin) and, in six weeks it could be part of an aeroplane or a car! So goes the TV advert.

Up to this time I was all in favour of recycling but now, I’m really concerned about it. The advert makes it seem as if the whole point of recycling is to more swiftly produce pollution producing machines.

We already have far too many automobiles and aircraft destroying the environment and, I see no reason that I should help the manufacturers of such machines utilize what I’ve given away to create further health hazards!

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Tonight I seriously considered going paper-free, in terms of bank statements, only to find repeated warnings that you should print off your own copies. As far as I can see, the banks simply want to optimize their obscenely gargantuan profits by saving on the printing and postage costs of sending out statements to their customers. It may seem like a good idea to let the customer use their own electricity, paper and printing ink to save a hard copy of their transaction record – definitely not for the benefit of the consumer.

What is it about The Scottish Play

A new, somewhat whimsical, poem called REFLECTED GLORY can be found on 'Mal's Factory'.

It Ain't What You Do, It's The Way That You Do It

Having recovered from my recent venture into the North Yorkshire Heartland, (reprinted below in case you can’t be bothered to follow the link), I felt sufficiently inspired to obtain a micro R/C helicopter of my very own. Flying the little machine is quite an art and, so far I’ve managed a few crash landings as a result of too rapid throttling down. As all our rooms are rather cluttered it proves a tremendous testing ground for my beginner’s skills. My limited powers of concentration are certainly tested to their full extent. A walk around the corner to my younger (step) daughter’s home enabled me to demonstrate my newly acquired skills in their open-plan residence. Providence must have led to this wonderful airspace being available just a few steps from our own front door.

Who’d have thought that going to a barbecue could lead to the purchase of a helicopter? The god of commerce certainly moves in mysterious ways. If the saying is true that “little things please little minds”, I am proud to be the owner of a mind of microscopic proportion! Still, size isn’t everything; it’s what you do with it that counts!

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A venture into North Yorkshire’s Heartland (posted 05 August 2007 on Mal’s Murmurings)

Sweltering hot and humid weather, just what I needed today! A night of aches and pains, tender glands and recurrent cramps, was further heightened by the general mugginess. The big question is how much do I blame atmospheric conditions and, how much yesterday’s exertions (no matter how enjoyable they were) for being the real culprit?

Today has been a day of spasmodically intense discomfort in neck, hips, knees, thighs and calves. Stand up to move across the room and, next minute writhing in agony on the floor; sit down on a dining chair before suddenly having to jump to painful attention. It’s with the most intense gratitude that I recognize such circumstance as having been an almost daily occurrence a couple of years back; these days, the experience proves more startling because it’s not such a regular companion.

Yesterday began in the usual low key manner, apart from my beauty sleep being disturbed at an early hour by the telephone’s shrill, with a quick visit into town (chauffeured by ma belle amoureuse) around lunchtime. On returning home, I marinaded a couple of chicken breast fillets in one of my special spice concoctions before giving them a light char-grilling. A couple more fillets served as the basis for a casserole prepared for Sunday lunch.

By 4.15pm we headed off to our barbecue, in deepest North Yorkshire, far off the beaten track. The setting proved quite idyllic as we observed a multitude of House Martins, feeding on the wing before heading back to their nests in the eaves of the farmhouse. A couple of gazebos had been erected in the grounds, next to a gigantic weeping willow, just in case the elements turned against us.

Apart from wining and dining I took advantage of the opportunity to fly a model helicopter and, carefully monitored the rev counter on a real jet-engined model aircraft. We later ventured into the guitar, keyboard and PA lined music room and communally sang along to some 60’s classics. Adequately, though not excessively, alcohol fuelled (my tolerance ain’t what it used to be), I was quite happy to launch into my party-piece rendition of Phil Ochs ‘Draft Dodger Rag’, the lyrics of which seemed quite pertinent to a gathering of medics. Having enjoyed the festivities for over four hours, a record breaking bout of socializing for the past four years, we had a leisurely drive home.

I guessed there may be repercussions for attempting to enjoy a normal life but, I hope and trust that recovery will not be long delayed!

This post also appears on Hirsute Antiquity.

Mal's Venturing

A blog posting embracing categories of health and wellness, food and drink, A Venture into North Yorkshire's Heartland, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

New Poem on Mal's Factory

One often wonders about the benefits of telecommunications! My new poem, RUDE AWAKENING, can be found on 'Mal's Factory'

A Gatekeeper visits the Garden

The Rose and the Fuschia just happened to be in the garden at the same time!






















The Rose and the Fuschia just happened to be in the garden at the same time!

Murmuring Mal Gets Turned On

Today's blog posting, Whatever Turns You On, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'!

Downsizing

The sun shone once again today; so infrequent have been its visits of late that I thought it worth a mention. A reasonably leisurely start to the day was only slightly marred by a parcel delivery, before 9.00am, which necessitated a swift donning of dressing gown to cover my birthday suit (I have no desire to make callers envious of my wonderful physique)! Of course my beloved had already been scooting around and, at that time, was out doing the weeks major grocery shop, hence the delivery’s intrusion on my much needed bed rest.

Having received the parcel, I re-immersed myself in the duvet lair; it didn’t take too long for me to find further respite in the arms of Morpheus. When I re-awakened, my beloved provided a little sustenance (in the form of a bacon sandwich) to break my nocturnal fast then, after checking e-mails on my PC, I performed a little low key pottering about in the garden. Meantime, my beloved was finalising her preparations for the service she’ll be taking tomorrow at Harlow Hill chapel.

As the afternoon progressed, and after a couple of years hesitant consideration, I thought it may be time to go and have a look at some micro hi-fis. Unlike several previous such excursions, this visit ended up in making a purchase; for some considerable time I’d considered my Hi-Fi system was occupying too much space in the living-room so, it has now been transferred (after disconnecting sundry leads from its six components and the speakers) to a less used room upstairs. The re-assembly will take place in due course, once sufficient resources of stamina can be drawn upon.

Once the new system had been set up, and a further meal consumed, it was time for me to begin preparations for tomorrow’s lunch. I always enjoy the aromas of the various spices and herbs I chuck into the griddle pan as I give them a pre-heat. The main dish having been prepared (or perhaps pre-prepared), I put on a Lucinda Williams CD as accompaniment to the mid-evening relaxation and, an opportunity to play with my new toy.

Aches and perspiration pale into insignificance besides my rejoicing in this day the Lord has made.

Mal Murmurs Again Today

Today's posting, BOWED BUT UNBLOODIED, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'

An Expensive Tomato Plant

I have, today, submitted the following e-mail, headed ‘A Miraculous Gift – not quite what it seemed’, to the pocketgarden.com

In early May this year, my wife received a ‘Happy Birthday’ Pocket Garden Gerbera. We carefully followed the instructions and, within the first three weeks, one seed germinated.

As the seedling started to mature, I was quite surprised at how familiar the foliage appeared as I hadn’t realized that I would be familiar with the leaves of the Gerbera. As the weeks passed, the resemblance of the foliage to that of the tomato plants (subsequently established in our greenhouse) seemed quite remarkable. This week, as the flowers began to appear, they seemed identical to those on our tomato plant.

So, the sequence goes like this:

In May, we planted 5 ‘Gerbera’ seeds.

Three weeks later one seed germinates.

The seed that germinated is now in its rightful place, alongside the other tomato plants, in our greenhouse.

The days of miracles have not yet passed but, I do hope this is not a constant trait with ‘Pocket Gardens’. I don’t know the pricing of these miraculous gifts, sent to my wife by my brother along with other presents but, I feel it’s safe to assume it was considerably more than that of one tomato seed. “Never look a gift horse in the mouth”, the saying goes, but we are now hopeful that the fruit of this ‘Gerbera’ will soon be in our mouths. As for any floral display, we can now forget it!

Disappointedly,

Having subsequently checked the prices on their website, I discover that this tomato seed cost £4.95!

Personally Political

Another day of bright sunshine; after all the recent weeks of downpour, each bright day feels like a privileged bonus. Problem is, I can’t really tolerate very warm conditions but, at least it deters me from risking overdoing things. Even my time sat beside the pond is reduced to a maximum of half-an-hour but, that’s time enough to notice all the little areas of the garden that need a bit of tidying up. It’s a hard discipline to prevent oneself from jumping up and getting to work with fork, spade and secateurs although, I have gradually learnt to deal with the guilt of sitting idly by.

When I was able to both work and play hard there didn’t seem to be a problem with ‘chilling out’ but, when one’s health prevents one from having a ‘regular’ job (or indeed doing too much socializing), it’s truly amazing how much guilt is promoted from ‘necessary’ inactivity. Quite strangely, if the lack of activity was from choice guilt wouldn’t even enter into the equation; it would simply be a lifestyle choice. Unfortunately, being raised so deeply entrenched in the protestant work ethic, idleness seems almost to be a violation of societal values.

I don’t want this to sound self-pitying, my life is predominantly a joyful one (a myriad of discomforting ailments notwithstanding) revelling in a catholicity of interests artistically, theologically and philosophically. I also have the privilege of being able to enjoy such simple pleasures as observing the piscine activity in both our garden pond and aquarium, watching the birds and butterflies in the garden and, most importantly, being loved by (and loving) ma belle Helen.

What prompted this self-examination was a comment submitted to the Jeremy Vine programme (BBC Radio 2) saying that “all the ‘poor’ needed to do was get off their backsides and get a job”. The appalling ignorance of such statements made me cringe; my immediate thought was of the Auschwitz motto “ARBEIT MACH FREI”; what a joyous freedom those victims of forced labour enjoyed! Some of the hardest working people I have ever met (or known of) are still, thanks to the appalling inequities of the labour market, caught in the poverty trap.

At a time when I worked for a local authority, in response to a question concerning better salaries or promotion as a result of people attaining their goals in the National Vocational Qualification scheme, the well paid spokesperson (for Investors In People, I believe) had the gall to respond to the effect that, it was to enable them to get more satisfaction whilst retaining their same status. So much for social mobility!

For myself, I was fortunate in having job satisfaction in an underpaid position; I did in fact move on to a lower paid position elsewhere, on the straightforward grounds that it was a necessary and rewarding position. Money has never been a major motivating force for me but, I cannot escape the feeling that the venture capitalists are the most voracious parasites in the developed world, making their fortune at the expense of the poorest members of society.

Mal's Christening

'Raindrops keep falling on my head', today's blog posting can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

Sitting on the sofa, watching all the birds go by ...

The collar dove gives me a disparaging look as I lean out of the stable door to enjoy a cigarette. He seems almost oblivious as he sits atop the twin feeder hooks and, I sense the frustration that he’s unable to hang onto these feeders like the smaller avians do. Maybe he’s a little more disgruntled as I forgot to replenish the bird-table with feed at just the time the collar doves have found a way to squeeze under the tables roof. (Wood pigeons fail in this task, even after multitudinous attempts).

It’s remarkable the pleasure one receives from simply watching the house sparrows make a beeline for the pole mounted polycarbonate seed feeder, where they then hover themselves onto the perches. The seed flows from this particular feeder at a much greater speed than from the dove topped twin feeders so, they only deign to visit those when their feeder is in need of replenishment or, they wish to avoid a squabble with its current occupants. The dunnocks have really wised up to this free-flow of seed and eagerly hoover up the fallen grains.

It’s really quite remarkable that dunnocks, with their reputation for skulking solitary behaviour, are evident in such abundance in this area of the garden.

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Yesterdays posting, ‘Dreams or Passion?’, can be found on Mal’s Murmurings

Consuming Passion

Although I enjoy a (health-imposed) rather sedentary lifestyle, I am still quite frequently unable to find the time to blog about the many exciting and mundane events that I feel I should (or could) comment about. In the pursuit of sedentarism, I am required to imbibe the odd glass or two of fermented grape, many of which prove worthy of favourable comment but, the enjoyment of the tasting and swallowing distracts me from this eulogising; no comment or description can ever live up to the experience.

This vinous pursuit throws up some remarkable variations, even from the same grape variety grown and produced in the same region. I am currently involved in the consumption of a Hunter’s Sauvignon Blanc (Marlborough, 2005) which proves quite unlike any other Marlborough Sauvignon I have had the pleasure of sampling. Both nose and palate prove most pungently ‘gooseberry’ and, a sensational dryness tingles the inner lip as well as the palate. What both myself and my beloved are unable to sense is any of the ‘tropical fruit’ declared on the back label but, I certainly detect an underlying hint of black pepper, a quality more commonly detected in a red wine. A certain liveliness determines that I should hold-off the next bottle for at least another year, it still seems remarkably young for an antipodean 2005 vintage.

By now, I trust my loyal readers will understand how such time consuming pursuits correlate to the paucity of postings.

A Tale of Aquatics, Compost and Comestibles

After a not so unusual sluggish start to the day, incorporating bacon and eggs delivered to the bedside by ma belle Helen, I eventually entered the active world. Early afternoon, we ventured down to the local Brewer’s Fayre for dinner before heading off to the garden and water-garden centre.

Having purchased a container, described as a terrace pond, which we’ve located amongst the planted containers in the gravelled area of the garden, I set about transferring a couple of lilies from the garden pond which was becoming somewhat overcrowded. I appreciate that it’s not really the appropriate time for such a transplant, two flowers having just passed their best but, both plants have new shoots under way.

Aquatic tasks completed and adrenalin still surging, I sought out further garden tasks (admittedly there’s never really a shortage of gardening chores) whilst flesh as well as spirit both seemed willing. I’d thought for a while about re-siting the compost bin and, after a brief struggle (ably assisted by my beloved) managed to remove it from its entire contents, the ripest compost to be dispersed around various areas of the garden. Having re-sited the bin, the residue of its content was duly returned along with an adequacy of worms.

Once I’d demolished a nourishing supply of sandwiches, for my tea, a little rest time was called for but, by 9.00pm I felt inspired to set about preparations for Sunday dinner. The resultant dish is a rather special chicken curry, utilizing my own individual selection of spices; of course I’m trusting that the finger lickings from the griddle pan, in which the bulk of the meal was prepared, are a true and honest reflection of this impending delight!

Post on Mal's Murmurings

Today's posting, BALANCING THE BOOKS, can be found on MAL's MURMURINGS.

A Right Load of Bankers!

Firstly, I must concur with my beloved’s latest posting, to be found on ‘Bright Light’, about the pleasure we have in welcoming our friend Graham as a visitor and, how well he seems compared to the last time he visited. When he lived in Harrogate, he was our regular guest for Sunday Lunch and, we would always see him at least once more during the week. He accepts us as we accept him, warts and all. That is the nature of true friendship.

Helen’s blog then goes on to describe the unwanted services and benefits her bank attempted to sell her yesterday. It really is fortunate that they permit a cooling off period as I became most irate when I read the small print and the (unwittingly) hilarious* description of the review that had taken place. My anger as I devoured the finer details reached way beyond simmering point. My immediate reaction was of the order that, with corrupt capitalistic ventures pretending to offer a service whilst the shears with which they intend to fleece you remain behind their back make this a world unfit to live in. I am quite sad to report that I am a shareholder of this bank, dating back to the time after I voted against the de-mutualization of the building society.

It required a considerable amount of time for me to recover my usual life-affirming posture.

It seems about time that we acquired a more honest English vocabulary, one where the term “service provider” is replaced by “excessive profit maker” and the phrase “we’d like to offer you the benefits of ….,” could be replaced with “we’d like to get our hands on more of your money and, offer fools gold in return”!

It’s good to know that I can still be blessed with a degree of cynicism, as I boldly observe the amazing expansion of Thatcherite ideas under New Labour.

Follow this link, How Banks make money, to read Helens blog posting.

*hilarious only in its inaccuracy.

What's Mal Murmuring About Today?

Today's post, A Question of Balance, can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

Lazy Bones and other body parts!

It can be really great when the weather perfectly reflects your mood, at least when the sun shines at the same time as a light breeze refreshes you. Unfortunately, recent days have seen a plenitude of rain and grey skies and, I find myself even more washed out than any prospective garden party.

Perhaps my physio will be able to work some wonders, with the acupuncture needles, when she visits me on Tuesday; I certainly feel in need of a wonder-worker at the moment, what with a return to lower concentration levels, a persistent prodding headache behind my right ear and, the as yet unfulfilled promise of a streaming cold hanging over me for the past few days, it feels like a major achievement to get out to the pond to feed the fish.

Still I struggle manfully on, with the aquarium inhabitants providing a constant source of entertainment when I’m not watching the sparrows, blue tits, starlings and blackbirds around the various feeders. A few collared doves manage to acrobat themselves onto the bird table but, the frequent thwarted attempts to follow suit by the unwieldy wood pigeons provide a rather pathetic source of mirth as they go slip sliding away.

Come to think of it, I’ve no cause to moan – I really do enjoy this laidback lifestyle as long as I can lay the ghostly conscience mutterings of the protestant work ethic to rest. Admittedly, it would be even better if it was a totally free choice, rather than force of circumstance, that led me to adopt this lifestyle.

For food and drink, a roof over my head, friends and family, and the love of my very special lady Helen, I give thanks!

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.

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