Category: Life

Damn colds! I am in the fourth week of real stinker that won’t go away despite massive doses of vitamin C and increasingly large doses of cough medicine, more about that later. The news seems to have been filled with the shortcomings of our wonderful government and what can only be described as an alarming ineptitude to deal with matters of finance, party donations, border security and our armed forces to name just a few. It does make me wonder what will turn up next and how long this government can hang on to power.  It only seems like a short time ago that I stayed up all night to watch a historical landslide election take place that was supposed to have given us all hope and renewed faith in British politics. That was in 1997 and all that Faith, hope and tolerance has been slowly eroded and washed away. Pete Townsend summed it all up in his song, We won’t get fooled again. The last words are “Meet the new boss, the same as the old boss”.

Another alarming piece of news this week is that an English supply teacher in the Sudan has been jailed for 15 days for allowing the children in her class to name a class mascot Teddy bear Mohammed. Apparently this is a huge insult to the Islamic faith. It should be noted that she herself did not name the Teddy bear, it was put to a vote and the children themselves chose the name. However it is the teacher who has been jailed and will have lost her job and then be deported at the end of her sentence. Mercifully it was only a teddy bear and not a farmyard animal. The outcry at beasts of burden being named Moses, Jesus and Mohammed does not bare thinking about. It is not just the British government who are eroding faith, hope and tolerance; it would appear that religion is now getting in on the act. It makes me rather glad I chose to be an atheist. Sudan is definitely off my list of holiday destinations.

Work has not restarted on the house but the good news is that I took delivery of a PS3 at the weekend just gone. Commander Riker and Miss Décolletage, the Revellers, BBB and Teech as well as the Bean Counter attended the grand unveiling and set about plugging leads and cables into all sorts of sockets to make the damn thing work. In fact I probably had the cream of the UK’s computing and gaming brains in attendance to set it all up. This is probably just as well as I don’t know any nine year old kids to do the job for me. Technology is a marvellous thing for the young and the older I become the more convinced I am that it is only for the young. I am still grappling the intricacies of my newest mobile phone. Half of the facilities I do not need and will probably never use. I sometimes yearn for the days when we had bakelite phones that would merely ring when some one was trying to contact you instead of belting out mind numbing ring tones. Despite all of this my MP3’s, MPEG’s and my DVD’s now look and sound wonderful. I just wish it was all easier to use instead of having to have four remote controls at my disposal.

Back to the cold from hell. I am now four weeks into what has turned out to be the worst cold I have ever had. Nothing seems to shift it or ease the symptoms. I have perhaps single handedly contributed to the destruction of half a rainforest through the use of paper hankies in a month. In an effort to stem my destruction of the ozone layer I have taken to drying them out on a radiator to be re-used and I have discovered that you can re-use them up to four times before they disintegrate. I have gone through copious quantities of vitamin c and gallons of fruit juice in an attempt to rejuvenate my immune system. I have taken to using increasingly large amounts of cough medicine to ease my aching throat. I have also discovered that there is a limit to how much cough medicine you can take at any one time. This was accidental and completely unintended however I had my breakfast and then took a particularly large draught from the bottle, it saves having to wash a spoon afterwards. I woke up on the couch some nine hours later wondering where the day had gone.  I guess a lot of people must have wondered where I had got to as well as there were messages on my answer machine and a lot of missed calls on my mobile. I am not sure many people will believe me when I tell them but I will just have to rely on an ever decreasing amount of faith hope and tolerance.

Its here, I know it is. I have seen it in all of the shops! The tinsel and lights are up and the turkeys and crackers are flying off the shelves, (more about that later). I even heard Slade on the radio yesterday. Christmas is definitely here. Yes it’s that annual event when we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. It’s where the name “Christmas” comes from, the mass of Christ. Actually he wasn’t born on December 25^th, the bible does not even mention his date of birth so the Romans, in approximately AD 227, came up with a date of 25^th December. The Catholic Church and the pagan’s merely added embellishments, combined them all and Christmas as we know it was conceived.

I lost my faith many years ago and have happily been an Atheist for some time, although I have ambitions to one day be an Agnostic. I figured it this way, if there were so many religions they could not all be right, although the Jews, Christians and Muslims all believe in the same God they differ in his interpretations of how to live and how he sent his messages to earth. Add a billion or so Buddhists and their own different sects and maybe a billion Hindus and Sikhs with a handful or other religions thrown in and you start to get the picture. We are not all singing from the same hymn sheet, oh no. In fact I was recently ordained, online perhaps but ordained nevertheless, as a Jedi Priest and have the documentation to prove this and it’s legally binding and all above board in some states of the US.  I can now carry out Baptism’s, Christenings, perform weddings and I expect if I put my mind to it I could perform the odd exorcism or two if required. I am not the only one, there are quite a handful of us out there and our numbers are growing!

However we in the west praise our own gods even more than Christ. We worship the cult of consumerism and commerce.  Christmas is merely a good excuse to get involved in a punch up at the tills while trying to purchase a cabbage patch doll or the latest must have games console which the makers have not made enough of to go around. Add to this a huge dollop of excessive drinking and the consumption of enough calories to solve the whole of the worlds famine crisis’s in one go with the ability to be drawn into so much debt that we are still paying the bills until the middle of the following year. Sadly if you don’t buy into this game then you are accused of being miserable and mean, "Bah Humbug" springs to mind, along with comparisons to Ebenezer Scrooge.

Now I have nothing against having a “good old knees up” and a great time or party at the drop of a hat, and I can get into debt at any time of the year but I refuse to use religion as an excuse for it. In a time when many adults do not care and lot’s of kids do not know who Jesus was, but know that a big fat old man climbs down the chimney each year and leaves them with a sack full of presents then perhaps its time to scrap Christmas. Let’s be honest and say we are going to have a two week party every year just for the hell of it and to make manufacturing and foodstuff shareholders and factory bosses happy. Well most bosses anyway. Back to the turkey saga…..

Avian bird flu has broken out in Norfolk and turkeys are being culled in an attempt to stop the virus spreading. This will inevitably mean a shortage of that old Christmas favourite, the Turkey for dinner on December 25^th. Other foodstuffs such as potatoes, broccoli and peas have already increased in price due to the wet weather of this summer. Rumours are surfacing that there will be a champagne shortage to boot. With this in mind I popped down to the local supermarket and bought one of only six turkeys left in the freezer compartment. Well I am having dinner at Little Miss sunshine’s house this Christmas and I promised I would get the meat in, I could hardly turn up with a packet of beef burgers could I? Indeed I am going to get as ratted as everyone else this year and stuff myself to excess. The difference is that I will be doing it for myself while most other people pretend that they are doing it in celebration of, and in homage to their God. Happy Xmas!!!

Monday came and I could not move. I spent most of the week in bed unable to do very much other than go to see Nurse C on the Tuesday morning and she told me I was run down, had a bad cold and would change my blood pressure tablets. The advice was to stay in bed until I felt better. By Saturday I had shaken the worst off and I even went out on to Ted Magnums official leaving do. On the Sunday morning I went to the cenotaph in the centre of town. It was a bright day when I left but it started raining at around 10.50am and did not stop for well over an hour until the service had finished. From there I went to the local army barracks to see Bean Counters son who had been in the parade. It was after a few hours at the barracks that the shivers started again and I went home to bed. I probably should not have stood around for 3 hours in damp clothes but at the time I figured it was the least I could do to honour so many who have fallen to give me and many millions of other people the right to live in a free democracy with out fear.

The next day and I was feeling worse than I had the previous week and so I went back to the doctors and explained what had happened. The doctor signed me off for another week with the advice to stay warm and dry. There is not a lot you can do when you don’t feel well other than make yet another Lemsip and watch day time TV. The house is a mess as I started decorating a few weeks ago but have been unable to complete any room and autumn has arrived with a vengeance. The long dark cold nights and the grey skies have done nothing for my mood or temperament.  It’s time to dust off the light box and start taking the serotonin tablets once more.

A phone call from the Tiler informed me that it was spring in Oz and the flowers are blooming and everyone has their shorts on as temperatures soar. TM is probably sipping a cold beer in Argentina as he waits for his iron horse to arrive by steamer and the Traveller is going to Thailand for three weeks. It’s hard not to feel envious when all you have to look forward to is another Lemsip and the next instalment on the shopping channel.  The desire to pack up and leave is stronger than ever. A couple of short weeks ago it felt as though time was flying by, right now it feels rather like it has stood still.

A few months previous, the doctor had been out to see my mum and I remarked about the bad weather we were having at the time. He agreed and told me that he fully expected his surgery to be full of people during September that he would normally see in January. I asked him to explain and he told me that Just after the New Year was when he would normally see people with seasonal depression.  These people did not know why there were depressed they just knew they were. As I have been a sufferer of SAD for some years I knew exactly what he meant. The SAD season has arrived early this year and only good weather and vitamin D will cure it. For more information on this subject check out http://www.sada.org.uk/whatis.htm

No matter how down in the dumps I feel, the trip to the Cenotaph brings back a sense of reality. I am one of the lucky ones and feeling a bit lousy is only a small price to pay when compared to the ultimate sacrifice so many have made.  With this in mind I have copied what are probably the most famous lines of any war poem ever written.  They were penned by Laurence Binyon and come from the fourth verse in his epic poem “The Fallen” from 1914.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Whew, what a week! Monday 29^th October. A sad day in my calendar, it marks the anniversary of the passing of my oldest friend. Billy Whiz. I have known Billy since were both 8 or 9. We shared the same birthday although he was born a year earlier. We both went to the same schools and both lived in the same vicinity. We both shared a love of motorbikes and for a while we both worked in the same place. Later on during the financial meltdown of the late 80’s and early 90’s we bought a house together with my girlfriend at the time as none of us could afford to buy one outright. It was while he lived there that he met his second wife, Little Miss Sunshine. He became ill during the late 90’s and sadly passed away in 2000. Since then LMS and me have got together on the anniversary of his passing and reminisced with a glass or two. I have many fond memories of BW and far too many to write down now but I am sure he will feature in some of my posts at a later date.

Oct 31^st, All Souls Night. Over the past few years I have brought together a few people at my house for the event known as Halloween. Mainly for my mums peace of mind so she was not in the house alone when “trick or treaters” arrived but also as a good excuse to frighten the life out of the kids. As mum is no longer here I had thought to cancel this year’s event but as a few people pointed out, would I have gone ahead if mum was here? So I thought about it and said yes. A small bonfire was set up in the grounds of Château Ghastanbury and I grilled burgers and offered sweets and hot food to any one who ventured into the grounds. It was quite a success with over 40 people here at any one time, many in costume to get into the spirit of things. I suspect it will be the last one I have but we will wait and see what the New Year brings.

Friday 2^nd November. I awoke to the tell tale signs of an impending cold. My muscles ached, I had a headache and I was shivering one minute and extremely hot the next. I ventured into work, came home and went to bed.  After a few hours in bed I woke up and went to BC’s house. Saturday morning came and I could hardly move. I arose at about 12 ish and Bean counter and I went back to Château Ghastanbury. As Ted Magnum is leaving for South America in a few days time I had thought to combine a farewell party with some fireworks and a barbie at my house. After Tedstock, the management of the venue have decided they are not taking any more bookings for an extra long time. (His mum has said we are not buggering her garden up again) So I set the grill up, cleaned the patio area and during the course of the evening we set off some rockets and fireworks. It is something I have not done for a long long time and I had forgotten just how enjoyable it is to watch money go up in smoke. I guess all men are young boys at heart, I am no exception. I still get excited about train sets and motorbikes, bonfires and outdoor cooking.

It was quiet evening with around a dozen people or so in attendance and I am sure it was a good send off for him. It was during the course of the evening whilst we were talking to Ted and filling him with confidence about all the things that could go wrong and hoping he did not feature in any future episodes of “Banged up Abroad”, that I realised just how quickly time is flying by. Ted is counting the days until he sets off and for me over a month has passed since I made the decision to sell up and travel around the world. Work has started on the house although it has ground to a halt due to my feeling less than sparkling. I did not get up at all yesterday and last night I made the decision I was unfit to go to work. I am hoping I will improve over the next day or so. Not only do I want to go back to work but I want to start working on the house again.  Before I know it, it will be March 2009 the date I set have set for putting my house on the market.  Right now it feels like the final countdown.

I went to the doctors this morning for an appointment with the Lovely nurse C. It’s almost worth being ill for a visit to her as she is that cheerful. Anyway I digress; I went for an MOT basically. The results could have been better but I am not exactly at deaths door. My blood pressure is high, my triglycerides (whatever they are) are very high and my red blood cell count is also high and the plates are enlarged added to that is a disturbing body mass index of 30 plus. So an action plan has been formed. I have to stop smoking, give up drinking, take more exercise and watch my diet. Basically I have to give up most of the things that make life worth living. I think it was Mae West who said everything I enjoy is illegal, immoral or fattening. I now know just what she means!

Work on the house has started and this morning a couple of electricians came along to fit a new main circuit board and hand me a certificate for electrical safety. Something that I understand, pretty soon every house that is going to be sold will require before it can go on the market. Well unlike me my home now has a certificate of electrical good health. Another job that will or should be completed before Christmas arrives is new guttering, fascias and soffits. This job is the hands of The Beast and I expect him to turn up one day with implements of destruction and plastic pipes and other such stuff and rip my house to shreds.

While the electricians were busy beavering away in the cupboard under the stairs I went out to the bank and knowing the kettle would not be useable for a couple of hours at least wandered into a local café not far from my branch. I have been in many cafes and indeed at one point myself and Riker were going to set up a website featuring the best of them in our area. We were both beaten to it by some bloke who is really into it and has made a fantastic site about cafes. He has done an amazing job and after seeing his site I knew that nothing I could build would compare with his. There is a link to this site on my links page but for the benefit of those of you cant wait to get there take a look at this. http://www.breakfastliverpool.blogspot.com/  Again I am digressing but I use this merely to illustrate that I know a thing or two about Cafes. Well this one looked nice and clean from the outside and I sauntered in and ordered a coffee and two rounds of toast. I expected it to be priced at about one pound 50 pence, toast normally costing about 30p a round and coffee about 80p. Imagine my surprise then when the lady behind the counter asked me for three pounds and ten pence. I was so flabbergasted I meekly handed the money over and went and sat down at a table and read the menu.

It was then that I noticed the prices, toast 80p a round and a mug of ground coffee one pound and 50p. I mean yes the place was nice but it was hardly Claridges or the Hilton. The waitress brought my coffee over with a large plate containing two rounds of toast cut from corner to corner and two small pots of jam with a couple of portions of butter and all on a doily with a serviette. Very nice it looked too but it was hardly worth 80p a slice and the toast was thin. The moral of the story is always check the prices before you order or buy something.

On another health note Commander Riker has gone off sick, he has a suspected ulcer and I immediately felt sorry for him when I heard of this so I rushed around to see him. He is genuinely ill and can’t keep anything down. A couple of days later when I had thought about him and his condition I became rather agitated and then angry. How come he has an ulcer at 27? He is a clean living soul who never drinks to excess, has never touched anything other than prescribed drugs, does not smoke and would be the last person in the world that you could say lived a Rock ‘n’ Roll lifestyle. I had to work hard to get my ulcer by the time I was thirty and that amounted to a lot of lung and liver abuse. Invariably it meant imbibing copious quantities of alcohol and smoking or sniffing “substances” that you could not buy at Boots the chemist. I also lived what could be called a hedonistic and Devil may care lifestyle to get it and yet here was CR with an ulcer and he had not put in any leg work to get or deserve one. Along with me he also has to change his lifestyle and diet radically and I can’t wait to give him the good news that we are going jogging every morning before we set off to work. I imagine his face will light up when I tell him of the diet plan I have worked out for the pair of us. Porridge in the morning with steamed fish and boiled cabbage for dinner and an evening meal of mixed lettuce leaves and salad!

Saturday morning and Beancounter and myself loaded up the car and set off for Treardurr Bay in Wales to scatter Elsie’s ashes into the waters of the bay. This popular holiday resort on Holy Island off Anglesey in North Wales had been a favourite haunt of both my mother and father for over 40 years. Indeed they once bought a caravan there shortly after my father retired and they would spend up to seven months a year in the caravan and I have many happy memories of holidays and weekends that I spent at that location. So it seemed rather fitting that mum should request that her ashes were scattered in the place that she had spent many of the happiest years of her life.

The journey down there was quite uneventful and after two hours we arrived at the motel that was to be our accommodation for one evening. Clean comfortable and relatively inexpensive with a bar next door and just a short walk to the sand it had everything we could have wished for. After a quiet drink in the bar we decided to get changed and have a meal before we set off to the beach. I ran a bath and poured the complimentary bottle of bubble bath in and when it was full tested the temperature. I decided it was far too hot and so I switched on the Jacuzzi machine to obtain more surface area for the water to cool down and then went outside for a cigarette and a cup of Bacardi and coke (there were no glasses in the motel only cups for the complimentary tea, coffee etc). After what seemed only a short time I wandered back into the bathroom and was met by bubbles pouring over the top of the bath and attempting to cover the floor. In blind panic I scooped armfuls of bubbles up and stuffed them into the toilet bowl and then into the sink and watched in horror as they went no where at all and decided to take their time about it into the bargain.

Having eventually bathed and cleaned up the bathroom we went for a meal and then headed in the night and onto the beach. The tide was going out and I waded as far out as I could to the waters edge and let the contents of the urn go. When it was empty I took out my hip flask and swallowed a large draft of neat Bourbon and said good bye to mum again. I immediately rang my brother so he knew what was happening and when and then had a quick drink via mobile phone with him.

At this point and deciding the night was still young BC and me walked up to the caravan site and had a couple of drinks with some of the people who had known mum and who still stayed at the site. Leaving the camp site club house we set off in search of further refreshment only to discover that there wasn’t any. All the pubs had shut at 11pm and it was now the quietest seaside resort I had ever seen. I did not expect a Blackpool like orgy of late night drinking and tacky kiss me quick hats but I really did not expect the resort to go to sleep after 11pm.

North Wales, for years had a history of abstinence on the Sabbath and it was always difficult to obtain a drink in Holyhead on a Sunday unless you were a member of one of the many local clubs that would not take memberships from non permanent residents of the island. However I always remembered Saturday nights to be leaping and full of life until the early hours. Now it was like a ghost town. I expect mum to be quite at ease in somewhere really peaceful with a bog full of bubbles.

 

 

For what seems like the first time in Ages me and the Bean counter went to Manchester and stayed overnight. “The occasion?” I hear you ask, A concert by Rush to celebrate 30 years together and what a concert it was. The best light show I have ever seen in an indoor arena. As for the music well it was everything that rock n roll stands for. Self indulgent solo’s, long complicated tracks and deafening noise and a blistering 3 hour set. The tour was to publicise Rush’s new album “Snakes and Arrows”. While the new material is excellent the loudest applause was of course for the old stuff such as “Passage to Bangkok”, “Spirit of Radio”, “Tom Sawyer” etc. To be fair it was not about sex, drugs and rock n roll. If you want that kind of stuff go and see ACDC or The Who.

The only downside to the evening was the venue. Thrombosis inducing seats, no room to stretch or carry out any of the exercises the airlines advise on long haul flights. You can no longer stand at seated arenas for fear of the wrath of the Nazi Elf n Safety marshals threatening you with ejection if you don’t sit down again and then there is the design of the building. The main corridor is a circular affair with the toilets and food stalls and merchandising stands spread out along its length. This means that if there are queues at any of the stands you can’t get past to walk around with any ease. Added to this the marshals will not let anyone leave the building even to obtain fresh air and it was stiflingly hot in there. If you do you will not be allowed back in again. It was my third time at the MEN and it will be my last.

Beforehand we had checked into our hotel, OK for an evening but I would not stay there for more than one night. We went to the local Wetherspoons in Piccadilly plaza for a meal and then on to one or two drinking holes, the later being similar to the Titty Twister from Dusk till Dawn. We left there in a hurry as most of the occupants seemed like extras form the Hills Have Eyes and I felt a little intimidated. (Read scared shitless) Afterwards we took a long stroll back to the plaza, (long because I managed to get the pair of us lost) and had a drink into the early hours of the morning before retiring back to the barracks, sorry I mean hotel.

Manchester has changed an awful lot since I was there last and it now seems so cosmopolitan. There are plenty of places you can drink out of doors on the pavements and just watch the world go by and a large amount of the world did go by. More nationalities than I could name, pretty young things with long legs and killer heels, groups of very friendly guys holding hands (read into that what you will) buskers, tramps, vagrants, tourists with suitcases and an assortment of the young and not so young heading into the night either home if they had one or to somewhere more exotic. Whatever you might say it was more akin to sitting on the Ramblas in Barcelona than the Manchester I remember of years ago. Maybe the “Café culture” will spread throughout the rest of the UK but I doubt it will for many years if at all but Manchester (Madchester as it’s affectionately known as) is worth a brief visit any time in my book at least.

Morning came and we set off to do some shopping before heading home. BC went off in search of some weapons grade stilettos, (just what is the attraction to shoes, handbags and shiny things for women?) and I pottered about window shopping and looking at the baby PS3 and fingering my credit card with intent. In the end I resisted and BC re-appeared with just a small bag of “bits and bobs”. Apart from the Arena and the hotel I will remember with affection my 24 hours in Madchester!

Following on from the idea of setting up an eatery on some foreign shore with Chef, I have been looking at recipes. A common dish in olden times was called a Turducken. This consisted of a de-boned turkey, with a de-boned duck inside of that and a de-boned chicken placed inside of the duck. In between each bird a layer of sausage meat and spiced bread stuffing was placed and then the whole thing was sewn up and left to cook for a minimum of 8 hours and then left to cool for an hour or so before being carved.

 Never one to be outdone, my favourite chef, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall made a similar creation using ten birds, which consisted of a turkey then a goose, large chicken, farmed duck, guinea fowl, mallard, pheasant, partridge, pigeon, and finally a woodcock. The programme was shown on channel four a couple of years ago in 2005. I have never attempted to make either of these two creations as they seem a bit fiddly to me.

 However after a few drinks the other evening in the company of LMS and Chef, I decided what we needed to do was something big. I mean SPECTACULARLY  BIG. So I have dreamed up what I think will be the ultimate challenge to any cook or pitmaster. I want to take one de-boned Asian water buffalo weighing in at around 1.5 tons and place inside it an American Bison weighing in at around 1.25 tons and then a domestic cow followed by a wildebeest and then a wild boar. My estimates come to around 5 tones of meat or the world’s biggest roasting joint. Naturally finding an oven to cook this in will be almost impossible so it will have to be spit roasted and should take around 6 days. If the sight of that monster being spit roast in front of any restaurant did not draw the crowds in I genuinely do not know what would.

 On the subject of big, I stepped on the bathroom scales this morning and almost had a heart attack. I thought the scales had broken but sadly they work just fine. I am now the heaviest I have ever been in my life and an exercise and training programme is now a necessity. Losing weight, getting back to peak fitness and restoring my health are now the order of the day and my number one priority. In fact I am going to have a really good think about it as soon as I have finished this bacon and sausage butty. (Sandwich to my foreign chums) I will let you all know how I get on with regular updates but for now I am thinking BIG

Ok, I have been asked why I don’t have any adverts on my blog site. I don’t need them, I have not sold my soul to the devil for readership or numbers to make me look good or obtain higher Google ratings! There I have said it. I know the more pessimistic of you will say “You don’t have enough numbers to host any adverts or attract sponsorship”, but I do and the web logs confirm this, so there!

As I mentioned in my last post the TV is rubbish with repeat after repeat and loads of adverts (commercials to my American chums) every ten minutes or so. I watched one programme the other evening and the adverts started as the opening credits finished. So with this in mind I have started to listen to the radio in earnest once more. I reckon radio is about to enter a new golden age with good old “Aunty” showing the way. God bless the BBC and radio four and three and even two. But for sheer indulgence for a gentleman of my advancing years you cannot beat Planet Rock. This station plays all the tracks I listened to when I went to school. You will not hear any tracks by Wham or the Osmond’s on Planet Rock and the adverts are minimal. If you do not have a DAB radio then you can catch them on the net by going to http://www.planetrock.co.uk/Default.asp

Music invokes memories and Planet Rock have had a Rush week. I am going to see Rush at the weekend and I have had pleasant memories about the Printer whilst listening to Rush. As far as I know he was their biggest fan. Having made up my mind that I will be selling Chateau Ghastanbury within the next couple of years I have made loose plans to go travelling around the world and I hope to visit the Printer and all my other friends in the land of the kangaroo and the Koala.

The Traveller contacted me some time this week from the Baltic Sea and informed me that he would not be going to Belize this coming autumn but would instead be going to Spain and Croatia. Consequently we have made plans to go and visit Belize in April of 2008. I have no idea what we will find when we visit but already friends and wags have dubbed me the 21^st century Tarzan and they have informed of their images of me swinging from trees in the south American jungle and befriending Jaguars and Anacondas whilst talking to the parrots and exotic birds that live there. If only life was that simple.

On another note I have been blessed this evening, Bean Counter came with me to look at some furniture which I bought, Always good to have a woman’s thoughts and comments when furnishing a house. BC had to leave as she had engagements elsewhere but LMS and her friend the Chef arrived with some meat and exotic vegetables and proceeded to cook me tea or evening meal for those who don’t understand the vagaries of working class meal times.  The Chef is a real qualified chef and not a mere amateur cook like me. She can do amazing things with vegetables and taught me how to make a Cassoulet? Anyway it was a stew of smoked bacon, tomatoes and lots of beans with herbs and spices and tasted delicious. I have decided if I ever open an eatery on the lines of a barbecue and music joint then I will employ her to do all the fancy stuff, leaving me to cook all the big joints of meat and come up with sauces and bastes to compliment them. I actually think this would a good combination and after a few drinks so did she. LMS shook her head and sighed a lot but watch this space!

Things have seemed strange of late; the house is unusually quite with no doors being opened, no television on and no movement save for my own. In fact my whole life and routine have become rather disjointed. I went into the shops the other week for the weekly shop, which is something I have done on a regular basis for years and then spent an hour wondering what I should buy. Items that I would have popped into my trolley without a second thought were no longer required and I finally came home with a bottle of milk and a litre of Gin.

During this period of adjustment of not having a great deal to do or at least not knowing what to do or in what order to do it in, I have been watching television. The Sky box was always in my mums room and I never used to watch it but out of boredom I have been flicking through channels of late and to my horror I have discovered that there is absolutely nothing worth watching. Hundreds of repeats or programmes that stop every ten minutes or so for adverts have driven me to distraction.

On the plus side, it is not all doom and gloom. Many friends have been in touch either directly or vial email, phone or snail mail. BC has been an absolute blessing and has put up with my mood swings and all else with not a murmur of discontent. Some time ago my kitchen was rebuilt with new units and tiled by my good friend the Tiler. Due to mums illness the kitchen was never finished and the ceiling required replastering. Imagine my surprise then when I came home the other evening to find water all over the kitchen floor and the walls and ceiling black. My first thought was that a pipe had burst. Frantically I ran upstairs to find the said pipe and gave up after 15 heart-stopping minutes. I came back downstairs and noticed plaster dust on the walls. It was only then that it dawned on me. The Beast had been in and plastered my ceiling for me and finished off the kitchen when I was out at work. The water on the floor was left over from where he had mopped up and the walls and ceiling were dark in colour due to new wet plaster.

Its things like that, that make my day and remind me that things will get better in time. I am sure the blog will be added to very soon