The wrong hair cut

I got my haircut, and out of habit asked for a short back and sides.  I told Sparkling and she was unhappy because she liked my hair longer.  It was as though I actually had hair rather than being the main character from the film Dumb and Dumber.  I can understand, a complete wolly is what she was saying. But Sparkling was right.  I should of asked for a trim not a scalping. But it is too late now.  All I can do is look up on a web site to see how quickly it will grow back and it's unlikely to be quick enough before I next see her.  Not only have I to think about this but it is also getting cold as winter begins.  So short hair and cold ears will be on the cards for the next few weeks. It's my own fault.  I should listen to Sparkling she gets it right at times.  Damn.

Well I admitted to being wrong, when I next see Sparkling she will be calling me a wolly no doubt, and justifiably as well.

A talk cushion and catch up

Well in order to get some sleep I have been out twice today, once for a short walk and once for a bicycle ride.  On the walk I was accompanied by Princess Talkative who doesn't talk a great deal.  For the bike ride some hours later it was Little Monster Boy, who is starting not to be so little.  He made up for what Princess Talkative didn't do, he talked and talked all the time.  As per usual I asked him whether he had spoken to anyone today and he said no.  At which my reply was I am a talk cushion, a bit like a pin cushion but instead you just talk to me.  He still didn't stop talking.  There are few people in this world who have a propensity to continuous jabbering but he is one of them for sure.  It didn't matter because I love is company and I hope he enjoys mine just as much. Not only this, he has loaned me a copy of a Star Trek film so I can re watch it.  One of his greatest passions at 11 years of age is Star Trek. To the extent he has repeatedly watched episodes and knows more about it than any other subject.  If there were an A' level in Star Trek I am sure he would pass it right now.  In fact there should be an A' level in it.  There is a lot one can learn from science fiction TV, live the universe, everything.

Princess Talkative is getting taller.  It's surprising how quickly children grow up, but what they remember most is how they were treated by adults and then they will carry this around with them all of their life.  Further they will remember how they treated other adults.  Which reminds me of Rock Chick who for several years while growing up absolutely hated me.  I know it was a matter of childhood jealousy and was just the ways she was, she'd get over it.  She realises now.  The thing is she is at a point where she values me like a father.  The other night she wanted a blether, so I rang her up and we had a chat which lasted an  hour and half.  It was just so good catching up with her and hearing how happy she is with Dangerous Sports Lad.  They are both happy, young and in love, awwe what a wonderful place to be in life.  With a little prawn on the way, first trimester only a couple of weeks away.  How Dangerous will be changing into a more responsible man is likely to be on the books.  If only he didn't act like his hormones were changing more than Rock's hormones.  She's got a good reason to be vomiting and moody.  He's just a plain drama queen in need of being put into place.  Which Rock does freely and often.  In time though, I hope he gets to understand being a drama queen should be left to those who have a thing for amateur dramatics, not to young men about to become fathers.  I've been told I will be a pops.  I'm so happy to be pops, because granddad seems so very old fashioned and makes me out to be old as well.  OK, I might be a little over the hill but I don't feel it, even if Sparkling keeps saying she has to trade me in for a younger model. Sometimes getting older is about find a comfort zone and staying in it, comfortably.  I can't be having all those shocks and crisis, it puts me on edge.  Be relaxed, it's the best way to take on the world.  If shit happens it's best to be chilled about it, because worry or fraught nerves don't help in any situation.  Then I am a hypocrite and can't always keep to this ideal, but at least I try.  Unless I'm being tried by someone else of course.

It feels like a long time since I have seen Sparkling.  It's the sense of touching her I miss, even rubbing her feet with cream to help her relax.  It gives me meaning.  Having someone you love right next to you, just so you can touch them or talk to them about how their day has been is a mutual comfort.  I reach out with telephone conversations and text messages and then can't wait until the next time I get to see Sparkles.  Her beautiful smile and shinning eyes, it warms me up inside. Also when in bed it's much easier to get to sleep with someone next to you, it helps the insomnia, I think so.  Maybe I should get a teddy bear.  There is something to be said about teddy bears.  Monster Boy has one, or did have one.  When I was a growing up boy I'm sure I had one as well.  I don't know at what stage it disappeared.  I expect it got tatty and was thrown in the bin.  The is no doubt, the tattyiest teddies or the most loved ones there are, just as the oldest people in a family are the most loved as well.  Even the potty ones.

An insomniacal posting

Well it's been one of those nights so far.  The kind where it is difficult to sleep.  I went to bed just after 12 o'clock and after a while thought it was about six a.m. and time to get up.  My feet were cold, for some reason they would not warm up, and I haven't had a wink of sleep.  I check my clock and it was half past two.  No where as late as my mind had led me to believe.  So just after three a.m. I've now had enough of laying still in bed and doing my best to will myself to sleep because it plain is not working.  I have either a weak will, or am going psychotic.  I get up, go downstairs and make a cup of tea.  I need something to do.  The alternative is to get dressed and go out for a walk at three a.m.!! I wonder what the likelihood is of getting picked up by the police as suspiciously doing nothing.  Were I a copper doing a late night shift I'd certainly pick myself up for questioning. Maybe I'd get some sleep in a police cell, because my bed bloody well isn't working.  Drinking the tea I know this will not work either.  A three a.m. shot of caffeine probably isn't the answer either.  It's not like I have one thing on my mind and I can blame this one thing.  It's just because I'm awake.  I could of had lime juice squeezed in my eyes and wouldn't of been any more awake than I am now.  This head just isn't dropping off to sleep.  It lays there and nothing happens.

I'm supposed to be doing overtime in the morning.  Getting up and going to the Fish Factory.  If there is anything which is on my mind it would be work.  How it is all piled up and how the pile just gets higher.  I've been neglecting my tray lately thinking other stuff is more important.  There is never enough time.  Only if I could stop time and then do the work and then restart time would the work get done.  I have now become a workplace donkey.  Carrying the load and not getting anywhere fast.   It's one of those things I have to accept and just wait for the big pile of crap which is due to hit the fan soon, to actually hit the fan and scatter itself all over me, head to toe.  I can imagine it splattered across my face as well.  It's not a nice feeling. It don't matter how hard I work I can't keep up with it.  Hell, thinking about it now makes me tired.  My eyes are actually starting to feel heavy.

Time to hit the hay again.  Round two, lets see if I can get into double figure blinks.

Catching up with an old friend and new music

I have few friends, it's just the way I am, some people have lots of them, but probably a lot of people just have a few or certainly a handful at most.  It all depends on what you call a friend, the extent of the friendship.  It's possible there are various categories.  This evening I ran up an old friend.  I've known him for 38 years and seen him less as the years have passed.  But he's someone I love.  Next birthday he will be 80, so this old friendship is more than just old in years.  My ex English teacher.  It was great having a discussion with  him on the phone.  Like me he likes to talk politics and put the world to rights.  We discussed the plight of the economy, Europe, the decline and change of our culture, Greece, Spain, the Euro, a Prime Minister and cabinet full of millionaires and impending financial breakdown.  Before I knew it we had been chatting for an hour and twenty minutes.  There's a kind of realisation when a conversation has been going for a long time it should come to an end.  When he hits his next birthday it will be a significant day.  I can't help feel sad because as each year now passes it is more likely he will not be around, when he has been a stable influence, confidant and help to me.  I then get choked up and sad.  We all have to go some day, it's a fact.  But it will mean my available friends have now diminished to the point they are generally in some way related to me rather than direct friends.

How the hell, do you make new friends and keep them again I wonder.  For to have a friend means a commitment to catching up with them at some time.  Usually the start of friendships begin with seeing each other on a regular basis.  Friendships can build up in the workplace, however if they are purely in the workplace they are more of a colleague rather than friend. Sometimes there are fleeting moments when I have met someone and hit it off with them.  Had a laugh and enjoyed their company, but those moments would just be the once and mean little more.  Again this is a little sad.  Yet a friend is someone you generally know quite well.  Their likes, their habits, their peculiarities, and regardless these aspects of personality are accepted.  Unless of course there is the significant event which breaks up the relationship. Which happens; or you just drift apart through time or distance.  Friendship, is more than just company, although being in someone's company can be fulfilling, being a friend has a level of involvement and is a two way street. Sometimes it comes to an end, that's life, sad but true.

I may have revealed my inability to learn songs before, well I'm just restating this point.  However, unlike a lot of people I know who seem to be stuck in a musical era, I do have a curiosity to listen to contemporary music and new bands and the recent hits.  It's an urge which jumps up on me every so often.  Sometimes a couple of times a year sometimes a couple of times a month.  It just does.  So my appreciation of music also becomes contemporary.  Odd how I can name band (when I remember them) that some people around me have never heard of and pull out of the hat groups where are three or more decades old.  Well, this evening I've come across a band called Metronomy.  They have an electric sound, which takes me back to what used to be called New Age Romantics.  And the great thing is discovering something by yourself, you like, by accident, and you can't get enough of it.  So I've say here the last hour or so searching through YouTube and finding every song I could by Metronomy and playing it.  I don't know if this is the same for everyone else.  It's not like people purposefully go out of their way to listen to old music, but they do to new music.  Old music is something you might hear as part of a film, and think the track was good and wonder who it was who did it, only to find it was years ago and the artist or group were no more than a one hit wonder.  Something I personally dislike are the groups or artists who are one album or one hit wonders.  I like artists to stay around for as long as possible, the more albums the better.  It shows they were special because they persevered and left a mark.  Metronomy are going to be around for a little while, I hope.  Like a friend.  Except with this one all I got to do is select the tray and play the music to be transported to a different place.  For 3 minutes or so anyway.   Then it ends, as does a lot of things.

Winter and a first scan...Pops

Winter is well and truly on its way.  As I wake up in the morning my body is reluctant to get out of bed.  It is warm and relaxed and says in loud woolly words "leave me alone" but my head says in return "it's 6 a.m. time to get up sleepy."  OK this is an odd conversation to have with yourself but I wouldn't mind betting there's a few people who have the same internal conversation as the winter cloak of darkness smothers out the sun.  I do very much enjoy a lay in bed, but the lays in bed and the enjoyment of it are being more demanding.  Maybe I'm just about ready to hibernate, I'll go to bed and never wake up for another 6 months only to find all my fat stores have been eaten away by a good long sleep.  Then in spring 2013 I'll be the new me, two or three stone lighter and so looking a lot fitter and handsome than I am now.  Though probably sporting a bit of a beard at the same time.  I'd imagine I'd have to have a really good brush of my teeth if such an event took place.  Maybe three or four brushes and as many mouth washes.  The last thing I'd need is to wake up during hibernation and find it necessary to book an appointment with the dentist.  He to could be in hibernation and am sure would be upset by the phone call.  I could go on about teeth but will leave it there.  I wonder if it would be necessary to sleep in some suspended jelly like substance and have an oxygen mask strapped to my face.  The jelly providing essential vitamins and waters to the body as it dwells in slumber land. But at present a nice cosy bed seem to be doing it.  Awwe lovely.

I had some news today.  Rock Chick had been for her first pregnancy scan and is ten and a half weeks pregnant. She was told the prawn has a strong heart beat and she's got me a copy of the scan.  Dangerous Sports Lad will be going through a lot as well.  Rock has the impression his hormones are worse than hers.  She might be puking every five minutes but he's having hissy fits every two minutes.  What a big girl's blouse.  I'm going to be called Pops (thankfully not granddad) and the thought of it did make me emotional as well. But I'm not a big girl's blouse.  Sparkling is over the moon, she said it was one of the best days of her life.  I don't think she knits, but it won't stop her from going out and buying little booties I'm sure. Personally, I've become interested in pregnancy and have googled what it's about, learning terms such as trimester etc.  Intellectually i can cope with babies, but physically I'm a little scared of them.  It's the teeth, no the gums. I'm one of those blokes who likes to keep away from them. Even though I'm now a great uncle, it's my great nephew who cries every time I get too close to him.  Or he takes on an alarmed look, like I could be the big bad wolf.  For me, it's not so good knowing I'm I have a face which scares babies, or worse makes them shit their nappies. Let me get acquainted when they have grown up a little more and can even say a couple of words.  Much more fun, and it's at five or six years football becomes possible.  I was never made to be in this position, give me someone who can converse in English not babble and blubber, or worse scream.  Sparkling is somewhat exhausted from the events of the day and although she's working this evening, good news like this and the realisation of what it all means is wonderful and exhausting emotionally at the same time.  I know, I was nearly a blubbering idiot while drinking my lunchtime coffee in the pub.  Again I stress not a big girl's blouse. Fortunately the pub was quite, I sat with tears in my eyes and a big grin on my face.  I don't know why, I just did.  Even now if I think too much about it I get chuffed up. It's a matter of being cautiously happy and just seeing how things go, but it's blooming wonderful news anyway.

For some reason it has been foggy today.  I was only thinking about the fog last week when I saw a picture in my phone.  It's of a wet street and gentle fog at night time.  The lights reflecting off wet pavements and further objects being misted out.  The mist makes a halo like effect, light sources appear fuzzy and their colours spill out as though on a smudged painting.  Very romantic and artistic.  Then I wondered how many times you might actually see scenes like this.  It's been at least a year since I last did. Again it is a combination of winter and the wet damp conditions when it is seen.  Leaves are dropping off trees and they look still on foggy days, for there is never much wind about when there's fog about.  Funny thing it is too, maybe if there was a wind it would blow the fog away.  Yes, winter is coming and it has began with a pretty significant event.  Just call me Pops..

A moment of calm

It sat upon my shoulder; then cast a tune on my mind,
In and out of conscious thought it wondered,
impinging on my starting day.
Go slow my man, go slow. When life is rushed go slow.
I ambled to the station following this notion.
Accepting, seeing and viewing all around me
in a somewhat different sight. Of leisurely pace.
Of contemplation from the fall of disgrace.

A disgrace which most normal commuters hold.
As they moved from, home to train, always their minds in occupation.
Go slow and stop this deliberate demand of senses.
Take a moment to yourself. Take this time now.
Between one footstep and the next, then listen, quietly listen.
The sound will come through, from some unknown place..
Go slow, don't follow the sheep make this moment yours.
It is no disgrace to give yourself, your own time and space.

How the world is different when there is less speed in pace.
When a moment of contemplation or wonder is given weight.
Go slow, no forcing or fasting or fleeting, just a purposeful conscious,
mind releasing.  As though this time now is all there is to have.
Listening to breath and heart, seeing the breeze as it gently plays on
all things with or without heart. Take this moment and calm, go slow.
Before soon it will all be gone, but only in this now all else has no matter.
As it sits upon my shoulder and says this I now know it is true.

Do men go through the change of life?

I woke up several times during the night.  At first I could not sleep because I felt chilled, then it didn't matter what position I got into or how I arranged the covers I still felt cold.  So I couldn't sleep.  There was probably some fitful sleeps but then I awoke again and lay there just saying to myself I had to sleep otherwise it would be difficult to get through the day.  I resigned myself to getting up late because I would need every single extra minute I could get.  In the morning I had somehow moved from being chilled to being too hot.  Sparkling tells me how she is going through the change of life, how she has flushes, hot and cold all the time.  I think I'm having them now as well, but I don't want Sparkling to think it is another illness or condition I have caught from her.  This is male oriented, not female.  I'm a man.  All of me.  Well I was the last time I looked.

Yet I can only think it is hormone related.  I'm getting emotional more often and have a problem controlling it.  When at the Fish Factory I had a thought of Rock Chick being pregnant and how I would be an honorary grandfather.  I had a cold cup of tea in my hand and was walking to the kitchen area.  I had to psychologically grab hold of myself in an instance to stop welling up and getting soppy over the whole thing.  Surely it can only be hormones which do this.  Women make a big thing of it, men don't.  Women have menopause, but a man can't have womanopause.  It doesn't exist.  My hair is thinning out and dropping out every time I wash it.  I look at myself in the mirror in the morning and wonder what I will look like when I go bald. If it is a hormone imbalance then it could explain my moobs (man boobs).  The only good thing would be not having to shave so much.  But hell I'm supposed to be a man not a bloody woman.  What is happening?  A man can not change into a woman, I bloody well hope not.  Well, except for those Philippino men who want to be women, transvestite pre ops.  All because I have problems sleeping.  What I would do for a good eight hour sleep.  I've made a mental note to try and exercise more, but it's not happening.

I might not of got much sleep but when I did eventually wake up this morning it was from the lost dream.  I was in another country on holiday, took a boat trip then a bus ride and then couldn't find my way back to the hotel.  It bought on a lost feeling.  Maybe it's the loss of my male side, it's gone somewhere and I have to find it again.  Am feeling really tired now so will hit the hay, I just  hope I don't wake up with blond hair and a pair of stilettos on in the morning.  Blond just doesn't suit my complexion.

The Emotional Vampire...a garlic sauce solution

I have been in a grumpy mood lately.  It could just be something which happens to men as they age, probably thinking the world should listen to them.  Or maybe it's the chip-on-the-shoulder thing.  The voice which says "I could of been a contender" but nothing actually happened.  Wanting recognition, or just believing you are right, but still can see someone walking towards the edge of a cliff.  On the other hand it could be the plethora of emotional vampires around me.  In one instance they cry out for attention and help and then when it is offered take no notice.  I should take some of my own medicine as Sparkling tells me.  Don't let yourself get involved, don't say a thing because your opinion is not wanted and has no value, if someone wants to walk towards a cliff and commit emotional, financial or some other form of suicide, let them because whatever you have to say will not change them.  They are what they are and are doomed to continue.  We each have to find our own way, recognise our own misgivings and tackle those very same misgivings personally.  You can not change someone else's view of the world.  I know, I've tried it, and I've tried it with reason and logic in the cold light of day.  But reason has no place for the lemmings, they will do what they have got to do.  Jump.

These persons are generally termed as "The Victim Vampire," they are around me in my own family, I just can not get away from them.  They sap every bit of positive energy out of me, then I keep being drawn to the conclusion I should have nothing to do with them at all.  Own family. Yet it doesn't stop there either.  They are in the Fish Factory as well.  To tackle these persons it's advised you should give them little leeway to discuss the problems of their life, unless they want to change those problems, but you have to be warned, in discussing these problems they are then getting attention, your attention.  Further, after giving all your time and effort for solutions you may expect to see a change in the individual but don't.  At which you can become disappointed.  Effort has been expended and there has been no change.  This is exceedingly frustrating, I know.  There is solution is to give them the Samaritan's phone number not your own number.  The additional problem is when you become the advice giver, you also become an emotional vampire later on, because the victim failed to act it becomes easy to criticise their behaviour.  Which in turn perpetuates the Victim Vampire (VV).  You become another person added to the list of people who failed them and they in turn blame for their life being the way it is.  It's yet another negative cycle, the VV now has another birch to whip their own back with.  The closer you are to a VV the more difficult it is to slay them.  Whether this is emotionally or physically.  You have to protect yourself first, by making your own garlic sauce and bathing in it.

This garlic sauce can be in the form of detachment.  This may also mean getting to understand your own intentions.  It is difficult.  Because I am a social animal to a certain extent.  I like to listen and be heard, but if I am doing this for my own ends and the person I am listening to is a Vampire neither I or this person will achieve a thing.  Detachment is stepping away from the situation, and accepting they will not change and asking whether I should include these persons in my circle of influence.  It's probably better not to, and if they happen to be family.  Then there is no use in seeing them more than you have to, whether they like it or not.  Day to day these people can wear you away, till the person you once were has been sucked dry.  It's how I'm feeling with my disappointment in someone I know.  I have to let go and be detached.  If the garlic sauce is taking time to make another form garlic is humour.  Satire, irony or any other thing which can pop back in mind.  Learn to throw it about like the circus knife thrower.  It takes quick thinking, and the good thing with it is, it can raise a smile.  The bad side is the Vampire becomes offended, but may not be so bad after all, offending a vampire could mean they leave you alone.  Alternatively, getting into their bad books and they may pursue you even further.  Which is not fun at all.  However, if they are very much the VV type they will view your behaviour as another instance which can be sited as confirmation they are big Victim's of the world.  Oh poor me, what can I do, I am doomed, they could say.  No matter how much you might try to lift their constitution or negate these negative feelings, the blood drips out of your veins.  They will do whatever they are going to do.

I have to change my own perception of the world and learn to put my fists up against the vampires around me.  Lesson one in any situation has to be self-protection, tomorrow I'm going to put a clove of garlic in my pocket and carry it with me all day.  Then if it is needed, I'll just give it a squeeze. 

Nepalise chicken fried rice and Humbug

Today rather than go to a Chinese lunch I tried a Nepalese inspired lunch.  The cafè is ran by Nepalese who haven't quite got the hang of spelling English.  Bacon was spelt as Beckon, and Chow Mein as Choumean.  At first it was confusing as I saw the menu and the words and had a problem reading them.  I mean it's not what it says but rather what it sounds like. Thankfully the pictures were a good clue and the taste of the chicken fried rice did not reflect the same errors as the misspelt words.  None of it was mean in any sense of the word, wicked might be used but not mean. It was fresh, the plate of food wasn't as large as I usually get but these Nepalese people are somewhat shorter and smaller in stature so their portions probably reflect this. Big fat Europeans like big fat portions of food, we are following the transatlantic trend in food size, and related illnesses as well. It wont be long before we are called the Big Bums of the World.  No mean feet for such a small country, but ever growing faster country (UK).

So meal finished and I sit in a nice pub, which normally isn't as busy as it is today.  Where have all these people come from I ask myself?  It must be the sun, a little sun and every Tom, Dick and Harriet have to get out to enjoy it, I wish they didn't have to enjoy it in my pub though. It's too busy.  People make noise.  Adults bring children, and children are even more noisy.  Humbug. A baby crawls about the floor while it's mother stands guard watching where it goes.  One arm in front of the other, it marches in goose step fashion, corduroy dungarees shine the lacquered floor.  Another woman comes in with a pram.  For the toffs a baby is another fashion accessory.  Humbug.  All this disturbance and the constant din of voices around me is bad enough, but it's been rounded off by a new member of staff giving me a coffee like nats piss. Therefore the coffee last longer than any normal coffee should last.  It may even go a little cold. The pub will lose out giving me nat's piss coffee, for it has the power to make my wallet tight, tighter than a hundred year old clam.  Humbug.  I dislike pretentious clientèle as much as people who esteem their working class as though it is a badge wrapped up in a blanket of ignorance.  I can never understand why many working class people don't strive for self education. It is a breath of fresh air to hear a voice of intelligence and reason in any situation, it cuts through toffs and the highly ignorant working class.  But unfortunately is despised by both classes. Education doesn't just level a field it rises above it, so does the ability to voice an opinion in the face of perceived authority. When in reality nobody has authority, it's all perceived.

During one conversation this week, chatting to Sparkling while in a Humbug mood, which I couldn't shake off, she started to sing Monty Python's "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life," a half smile erupted on my face.  Then Sparkles began the whistling bit, the singing was funny the whistling not. The conversion of high frequency sound waves over two mobiles led to an awful screech which went through my head and echoed on the way out. I nearly fell over by the impact.  It could of been a grenade exploding right next to my ear, it bowled me over. It hurt. I didn't get out of the blues; but sometimes you can only remove such feelings by re-viewing the world, the experience of it and by stop being an idiot. Yet the idiot hat can get super glued to your head and be difficult to remove. A little like a Humbug attitude, they're one and the same really.

The coffee lasted an hour, half a pint later and I'm feeling quite a bit chilled. Yep, my view of the world has changed.  People who had invaded my hideaway retreat from the stresses and strains of life have gone as well.  Eaten their overpriced lunches and ran back off to their overpriced homes.  Even the taste of Humbug is going. What was that line again?  Always look on the bright side of life...

What day is it?

I don't know why but at lest three times today I have asked different people "what day is it?"  As though a day has been lost.  Or even something strange has happened with time.  There are days when the demands are high, where meetings, phone calls, conversations, items of work don't stop.  Where even the day before was heavy and it is still waiting to be swept under the carpet, because for now there it sits on top of a desk, spilling over with little room for pens, pencil, phone or diary.  Yesterday is waiting even with today being here now and also needing to be dealt with.  As today progresses there are then demands of it's very own, demands which come right up to your face and slap you in the face, they say "give me attention now, I don't care what you were doing, I am now, deal with me."  This could be the reason why "what is today?" Has to be asked.  It is like looking at a map and establishing where you are in order to get to your destination.  However, in today's case I couldn't place today on the map yet knew it had to be somewhere, some place and importantly at some time.  It isn't Tuesday, it isn't Thursday.  Today is Wednesday, it is mid-week, but more so it is the slope downwards to the weekend, to two days of rest. Hopefully.  And today is nearly over as well.  It's odd, but I have also spoken to Sparkling and she has been in the same dilemma as I have, also asking the same question.

Sparkling however has not been sleeping well the last couple of nights.  She had to be at the docs to get a sample of blood taken from a vampire for analysis.  It meant having to rise early and be prepared.  Which could of been on her mind and prevented her from sleeping as soundly.  I asked if she knew what time she woke up, but Sparkles told me it was an all night kind of restlessness.  I woke up at 3 a.m., I know because I checked my alarm and wondered when I woke up whether I still had more time to sleep until 6 a.m., there was plenty but again I felt cheated of sleep on the second wakening.  So this is the second factor which has played a role.  A role in orientation.

Now as the day finishes, I hang up my gun slinger's belt, take off my spurs and at last can relax.  Sparkling is making soup, lentil, she says it relaxes her, and Rock will be given a portion.  Rock is pregnant and has the boke, but may find the soup does the trick.  It's like ginger nut biscuits which apparently are also a good thing to eat if you're pregnant and tending to heave an at the slightest thing.  It's Wednesday today and shortly it will be Thursday, all is well, this ship is sailing through a mist, a fuzzy mist, but the gentle glow of a light, and an intermittent bell ring tells me.  All is well, all is clear, tomorrow is another day and will not need to be caught up with.  Not yet anyway.

Blistered feet scream...and noise

My feet are taking a right bashing at the moment.  It began when I put on a new pair of boots which had been kept in their box for about a year.  There was a little rubbing on a heal.  I thought nothing of it at first, it was just a little irritation, however the more footsteps taken the more accumulated this rubbing had become.  The pain didn't come straight away, not while the boots were being worn, it happened afterwards.  A few hours into my normal shoes and I realised my right heal hurt, like it was being pinched.  Later in the day when I took those shoes off to put the same boots on I noticed blood through the sock.  They had rubbed too much.  Now my heal will be in pain whenever I wear anything on this foot.  Saturday I didn't go anywhere and vegged out.  Today I went for a Sunday walk and thought I'd put on my old boots, ones which are well and truly worn in.  Just to imagine I was on the brink of throwing them away.  I had previously taken out a pair of leather innner-soles and put them in the new boots.  Today I then walked for just over two hours.  I got home took my boots off and now have at least three very large blisters on the soles.  It's been like walking on glass, pretty painful. So now its a matter of putting up with self inflicted pain and where the hell are the plasters?  Feet, the one thing you can not live without.  They are used every day and if you abuse them they shout out loud like a small child who has just had it's ice cream nicked on a hot sunny day.  High pitched and screaming, which is exactly what these feet are doing now.  But just to think in a week's time they will be so touch I'll be able to break bricks with them like a karate expert.  If not at least walk a few hours and not get more blisters.

During the walk I stopped off at a supermarket where there was a coffee house franchise.  I sat inside and drank an Americano listening to the radio on my phone.  For some reason supermarkets are noisy places.  But it's not just supermarkets, it's any building where there is a lack of soft furnishings.  Any place which does not account for the human hear, how important it is to have peace.  It could be old age but noise has a great effect on me nowadays. I have difficulty in hearing what people say when they do not speak loud enough in a noisy place.  I get distracted by external noise when trying to concentrate.  Work can not be done in an environment where there is too much noise, especially when the work is cognitive, it seems employers do not understand this.  Large buildings are put up, they resemble aircraft hangers or multi-story car parks, vast big and with hard surfaces which reflect sound.  Walking into a room with no furnishing and sound echoes, it has no where to be absorbed, it is the worst place to be.  Like my screaming feet walls scream loudly as well.  Poor human beings are soft things, we then are left to absorb the noise.  Right through the ear canal and straight into the brain.  Sometimes i wonder if it would be an advantage to suffer from a little bit of deafness.  Were I able to turn down a hearing aid and not be confused by the sounds around me then I'd be able to really concentrate.  I got tinnitus now but this doesn't help when in conjunction with migraines.  So my feet scream the walls scream and my brain screams as well.  One day my head will explode with it all.  I just will not be able to take it in.  It'll be like an exploding mellon as it's hit by a dum-dum bullet.  Brains spattered all over the place.  The good side will be at least my feet will stop hurting.  Memo to self, if brain explodes make sure it is while out on a long Sunday walk.

I expect all this screaming is part of the modern age, it's one of those things which is unavoidable.  Like seeing people on trains constantly doing things, playing with their mobile phones, reading tablets.  Not much quite brain stuff goes on.  There just too many things happening and too many demands.  I wonder if in the future the brain will adapt and change to these constant demands put on it.  It can't all be left to just falling asleep.  A moment of quite each day is like an elastic band going from stretched to relaxed.  At the moment my feet are up resting, and will probably be resting as much as possible with these blisters.  The same should go for seeking a non noisy place.  A place where no thinking and no noise can distract.  Which doesn't mean waiting for a head explosion.  Where are those plasters?  And what is the biggest one there look like?

Falling off the wagon into a portion of chips...

Last night I fell of the wagon.  Yep.  Went to the pub had two pints, felt pissed but happy.  Then went to the chip shop for a portion of chips, the price £1.40 cheaper than in Scotland.  I asked for a squirt of ketchup, which cost nothing and in some places they charge for a small sachet.  Then I found myself asking the young man how he was, I was so mellowed out.  I found he worked a 12 hour day 6 days a week.  I'm sure he is only getting minimum pay as well.  He's not an English young man.  Which is not to mean young English men would not work such hours, this is just an observation.  Possibly an observation of the relative value and understanding of money.  Hard to get, easy to spend, this is my own very saying and I've not heard anyone else say it, unless they know me and they haven't so it might not be catching on.  Well, maybe after writing it here the world will know, but I'm sure they'll not attribute it to something they read.  When things are remembered and it can't be recalled where they come from this is called cryptomnesia. So last night it was as if I didn't know where my appetite had come from, it was there and it needed to satisfied.  So it was chips, drunken message phone calls left on answer phones, home, an Eccles cake, and half a packet of shortbread biscuits.  Damn.  All those fermentable carbs are now having their effect on me.  I had been reasonably good all week as well.  Oh, and I forgot to mention text messages sent to Sparkling.  Who would of realised I was merry, because I'd mentioned popping into the pub for a couple.  She's used to it now.  At least I ring people up who know me or either know to ignore my call on a Friday night.  Sometimes they do entertain a conversation and keep my company when I get on the train.  Full of dour faced commuters.  When you're happy and are met by a bunch of sad looking stressed people they are not open to funny or happy discussions.  They should drink more often, and eat chips.  The best cure in the world.  You can quote me on it as well.  Don't over drink, just a little to feel happy.

I've now discovered a piece of software which plays music for free.  Except for the intermittent advert being played after every two or three songs.  It's called Spotisfy.  I thought I'd get round the adverts by turning down the volume on the Spotisfy control, but this didn't work.  The advert just paused.  Bloody thing, however it could not avoid the more direct root of reducing the volume on the headphones.  Tough on the advertisers, shame, I'll cry in my sleep for them, not.  There are so many ad blockers, cookie stoppers, pop up killers and virus hunting things about nowadays they do a pretty good job of keeping the nasties away.  But even with these can't get away from the simple, manual off button.  Followed by a IT user who has a obstinate, persistent attitude.  Which is something gotten at the drop of a hat nowadays.  If only I could drop the had of desire to scoff my face as quickly as getting annoyed at IT things.  I don't know what it is, but I get this odd phase, where listening to music is the only thing which cures it.  Not old music either.  The hunger is for the most up to date music around.  Pop music, the top 40, the best selling albums.  When this happens I'm hunting down internet radio sites, Youtube any source at all to satisfy the chip-like hunger.  Unlike chips this desire lasts longer, in the region of an hour or two.  If only it was possible to remember every artists name and song after just one listening.  Unlike having to work off the fat from too many chips which takes a bit longer than it does eating them.  Reminder, look for an MP3 and radio thingy.

The hundreds of daily views from persons in the Netherlands has now stopped.  It's a shame because I had considered taking up language lessons.  In exchange there's been a slight increase in views from Spain.  You'll not find any Paella recipies here Spanish persons, just chit chat about chips.  Not fish and chips either, fish is expensive.  Only on the odd occasion does the fish get a look in.  Fish in batter, which must be a purely completely British invention, well I think so.  Totally unhealthy so it has to be.  A little like the deep fried Mars bar, fortunately there were none of them in the chip shop.  OK here comes another advert, I've had enough of listening now, better go and exercise off some of those chips.  Hell, the good things are always bad for you, as Sparkling once said to me, on this occasion she didn't call me fat boy but could of.

Day two of a healthy lifestyle and an old picture

Well it's been day 2 of a healthier life style, which has consisted of not eating as much as I would normally and then going to the supermarket to by lots of salad stuff.  The salad isn't going to last long because I've already eaten half of it.  It takes a lot of salad to feel full up, and it takes a long time of preparation.  Especially if you include the shopping for it in the first place.  Overall though, it's not been too bad.  Lunch consisted of a sandwich and a cup of coffee.  Prior to this breakfast consisted of one piece of toast.  I think I have got to learn to eat slower.  To savour food, because there's not much of it when you're dieting.  Exercise has not been on today's agenda.  Perhaps it's a matter of getting up early in the morning and taking a quick walk or run before delightful breakfast.  I could eat some more salad with my toast tomorrow, maybe it'll make all the difference.  If I'm exercising tomorrow then I also have to go to bed early to get up early.  Healthy life is hard work, it will be killing me.

It is surprising how deprivation of a big lunch time meal can effect the mind.  For after finishing work I nearly didn't go to the supermarket.  I saw the chip shop in the square and a thought flashed in my mind.  A temptational thought, to go and buy a portion and a pie.  I resisted, quickly turning and walking off in another direction.  I could consider making my own sandwiches tomorrow.  Thing is the carbs again.  It's the bread.  It makes me wonder what working class people used to do when there was not such a large supply of carbs.  Unless of course they were the main food source.  But in those olden days people were not fat, there was not a plentiful supply of food.  Food was a scarce thing, and even eating one meal a day considered good.  Hadn't they died of all kinds of diseases those people of them olden days would of lived a lot long than the fat people of today do.

I have a post card of a young girl from the 19th century.  I saw the original photograph at the National Portrait Gallery in London and just fell in love with it.  It's been pinned to a wall for years.  Here she is on the right.  The photo would of been taken with a plate camera. It is of Adelaide Passingham by Evelyn Myers and is a sepia platinotype.  The quality of these old black and white pictures is unbelievable.  Nothing colour wise can ever match up to them.  Not even today.  There are two reasons, firstly the range of tones in the print are richer as platinum is used rather than silver, the second is biological.  Light receptor cells in the human eye are outnumbered phenomenally by those which see black and white.  It's thought platinum pictures of this type can last thousands of years.  So Adelaide will be around a lot longer than most of us.  These pictures show how colour is really no more than a second thought no matter the general belief. This was taken in 1889, so Adelaidie, it would of been nice had the photographer asked Adelaide to open her eyes, head tilted and glance toward the camera. The down caste head posture although enticing gives Adelaide a simultaneous sultry and downtrodden appearance.  I wonder if her hair was full of mites, it's a tangled mess and no self respecting woman nowadays would allow her hair to look like this. Adelaide, is relatively clean looking but at this turn of the century who can say.  Historically, working class people washing and their personal hygiene may have been in doubt. There will be few pictures of this type ever done again.  Simply because of the cost.  Platinum was cheap when the Platinotype Company first produced the paper, but over a period of twenty odd years, the price increased 52 times.  So it was abandoned and other cheaper chemical methods used such as the palladiotype.  Whatever, this picture is certainly going to be around for a long time.

I do like the photo, even by today's standards it his a high quality image.  I also bet Adelaide never got fat as obesity was a rarity in them olden days.

Things to think about when living healthier

Today I half re-started a healthier life style, only one piece of toast for breakfast, only one plate full at the eat-as-much-as-you-like Chinese, and only one nectarine for supper.  This evening I have walked for one hour, I've weighed myself as well.  It isn't a good weight and just confirms what is already known, I'm fat.  It no doubt will take a long time to lose weight and there is a lot of effort which is going to be needed.  Maintenance decisions.  Like making my own lunch rather than buying from cafés. This all takes time, time to hit the supermarket, time to then chop up, combine, flavour and box up foodstuff.  Inconvenience of then carrying said foodstuff with me and storing it until lunch.  I thought about this while at lunch and wondered whether it was actually better to go without eating anything.  Have a coffee, then in the evening make something when at home.  The problem is, the longer you go without food, when it does come to eating you're more likely to gorge yourself.  Well I am, plus drinking alcohol tends to make me want to eat chips, so I've not been to the pub or eaten chips either.  So for one day, I have been relatively sensible.  Except losing weight takes a lot of time and a lot of effort and has to be persevered over months.  Just as we are coming into Chrimbo and the time of gluttony.  I can't think of a more perfect reason to be dieting and a more perfect trying period.

I've just tried to work out many calories a walk for one hour burns up.  Apparently this is related to the speed of the walk and how much you weigh.  For me it works out at about 5 calories a minute, and there I was thinking it to be in the region of 8 calories per minute.  Way less than estimated, no wonder it takes so bloody long to lose weight.  There is no doubt about it, I'm going to have to consider reducing food portion sizes as well.  I saw a TV program which announced we do not have to eat the size portions we do.  It's not necessary at all.  Whether I like my food or not, but I do, this is an important factor.  To be serious in this life choice I'm going to have to change my name to Rabbit Man, and eat lots of green vegetable things.  Then I wonder, if this is day one, how are the successive days going to pass.  The other thing I found out was for every ten years a person ages their metabolism slows down by 5 percent.  This is not a helpful factor in weight loss and old age.  If my metabolism slows down any further I'll be in suspended animation. But, I've heard green tea is good to increase metabolism, so have drank about 3 cups of it today.

The problem is, there are just too many temptations around me as well.  I have to put things out of sight, like biscuits.  For it's as though there is some automatic must each mechanism my body runs by.  Without realising it I can tuck into a few biscuits and dunk them in a cup of tea very easily.  Even if a second on the lips is an inch on the hips, it's this automatic response I have to be conscious of.  It has to be made non automatic.  Or should I be saying, hide from sight or you'll never fit in those tights.  I could go for this saying were I a Shakespearian actor, but I'm not.  So it will have to be some other more apt ditty.

Lastly, I could use the scare tactic like the government does on cartons of cigarettes.  You know the ones "smoking kills" and "smoking harms unborn babies."  The reality is putting weight on will lead to an early death, live healthy and live longer.  Feel better and then get to see more of the people you love, the young ones as they to grow up in the world.  This is a compelling thought.  OK Rabbit Man tomorrow, don't forget to purchase some celery!  Will do fat boy.