At Christmas You Tell The Truth

Squeezed In

It’s obviously far too late for me to be blogging tonight.

So I won’t.

A Wave In The Air

It was seriously frosty here last night. While my lovely Lady was out in the car about 11 pm it was freezing. I don’t imagine that it got any warmer between then and morning so I’m very,very grateful that she got up far earlier than she needed to in order to drive me to work.

Back to bus travel in the morning though, as she’s in Dublin this evening enjoying Eddie Izzard. I, clearly, am not jealous in the slightest.

I actually don’t mind the bus journeys. I’ve managed to find a way of getting in and out of work that costs about half of what Bus Eireann would charge me, which is good. The journey in in the mornings gives me a chance to doze with my iPod on and the journey back into town in the afternoon gives me a chance to just…unwind. Of course, I’m quite happy to ditch the bus for the chance of a lift with my darlin’ girl.

My Christmas decorations are all up. I may even honour you all with a picture in a couple of days. Or I might not. Depends. I really ought to wrap Christmas pressies, write cards and post what needs posting.

I also ought to be getting to sleep. Night, everyone. Who knows, I may even dream of an unexpected trip overseas that’s been suggested for next year. How cool would that be?

Catch Up

It’s been a few days since I got around to posting. Sorry guys. It’s easy to get into the habit of blogging every day but just as easy to get out of the habit.

Since I was last here I’ve been to see the rather wonderful Joe Bonamassa play live and have bought tickets for Deep Purple next June. It’s so good to have been to a gig again.

What else? I’ve bought some more Christmas decorations and am slowly getting them put up bit by bit. I blitzed the housework a few days ago which felt pretty good so maybe I should approach the decorations in the same way – pitch into them and not stop or get distracted until they’re done.

I’m still a cigarette-free zone although I had a rather major wobble this afternoon in town and very nearly asked a complete stranger for a smoke! The will-power just held though and the craving passed. Or “faded” rather than “passed”. I’d still like one but don’t want one, if you get my drift. I rather think that this might be a battle I have to fight for the rest of my life.

On the subject of “the rest of my life”, it’s surprising how little time it takes for me to miss my Lady when we’re not together. My hand feels cold and empty without hers in it, without her shoulder to hug or her hair to stroke. Even the house seems warmer when she’s here or maybe that’s just the warmth she brings to my heart.

It’s late. I have “stuff” I want to get done tomorrow so I’m off to bed. Sweet dreams, everyone. Especially you…

Incidentally...

It's a rainy, chilly Monday morning and I've already been at work for half an hour. I actually start in 15 minutes.

"So what's your point?", I hear you ask.

Just this - I'm happy. I have a home, a job and I'm very much in love.

I wanted to tell you all that. I want to tell everyone that! As if it's not obvious when they look at me.

Dozed and Confused

I must stop the whole “dropping off in the armchair when I get home”. All it does is put the times that I get things done back, like tonight. I’d planned to have an earlier night but here I sit wrapped in towels, only just out of the shower.

That’s the best case scenario. Yesterday was awful. I dropped off about 6 in the evening, I guess and woken with a start about an hour later. Seeing the time was nearly 7, I jumped up in a panic, convinced that it was 7 a.m. and I was late for work. Not good.

Sunday Morning

I actually deleted a post from last night as being unnecessarily negative.

I had a night out and a few games of pool. End of.

I wish I hadn't got my shifts muddled up though. I was in work well before 7 yesterday morning, as usual, and didn't realise until nearly 8 that it was my day off and I wasn't supposed to be in. Back home and back to bed went I.

Would it be alright if I did the same thing today? Rather tired here, actually.

Dance The Night Away

I didn’t mean nor want to be up this late. Believe it or not I got involved in some housework and didn’t realise how late it was getting.

I’m sat here now, having a last drink before bed. Still off the smokes and increasingly determined to stay that way.

I don’t know why I’m posting at all – I don’t really have anything to say. I burned my finger tonight but that’s hardly newsworthy. It’s not going to bring civilisation crumbling into ruin, is it? I’d hate for my finger to be blamed for the end of the world as we know it. Mind you, if we were facing a global crisis that could be directly attributed to me, I’d just arrange for someone to do the Robot Dance to distract everyone else while I made good my escape.

And on that note, I climb the stairs…

Thursday. Maybe.

It’s been a few days. I’d kind of fallen into the habit of posting something here every evening. I don’t know why I’ve missed a few days. I’ve had nothing particular that I care to say but that doesn’t usually stop me!

One thing that is probably worth mentioning is that I haven’t had a cigarette since November 30th. That’s now three full days. I must admit, though, if I could’ve bought just one somewhere tonight…

So what else? The usual kind of thing – work, worry about some things and deep contentment with others. Just your normal kind of a life really.

There was a very cold snap in the weather here a few days ago, to the extent that I went out and bought hat and gloves and a pair of boots with rather more grip on them than my others. The walk from here to the bus-stop at silly o’clock in the morning is down a rather steep hill. I don’t relish that walk if the pavements are slippery.

I decorated my desk at work today. Just a little tinsel and a very mini-tree but it looks quite festive. This is remarkable, especially when added to the fact that I’ve now got a Christmas Tree up in the house too. I’m unrecognisable from the guy who grumbled and bitched his way through Christmas 2007.

So I suppose I should draw a line under today. I think that tomorrow is Friday, so I’ve got two days left before I get a day off. I lose track of what day it is so easily now. It must be my age (before anyone else says it!) I guess.

Okay, I’m off to bed as soon as I can get my internet connection to hold long enough to post this. Sweet dreams.

Too Short

For whatever reason there seem to be a lot of intimations of mortality around at the moment.

Life is a wonderful thing and I intend to spend many years of it with someone who’ll read this soon, who makes every moment of it sweeter than it would be without her. For that reason, amongst others, tonight I smoke my last cigarettes. This life is short enough as it is, I need to make sure that my last meal is a long, long time away.

The Lights In My Eyes

Something unexpected happened to me on Saturday evening. I started to cry.

Not through sadness or loneliness or regret or anything like that. I’m actually hard pushed to put a single word on it.

There’s a park in the city centre called Bishop Lucey Park. It’s been done out as a winter wonderland, filled with lights and grottos, snow machines and people dressed as animals who shake hands and hug children. Santa is there too, of course.

I’d been working on Saturday. Working hard to hit targets and achieve stats. You know how it is. When I got off the bus in the city centre, on my way home, I found a craft fair and food stalls all along Grand Parade. I was delighted – it beat walking home to an empty house. I was browsing through the pretty things at the fair with the scents of burgers and the bustle of the crowds filling my senses when I spotted the lights in the park and thought I’d have a look.

My first thought was “wow, that’s nice” as I approached. The entrance to the park is a big arched gateway and as I walked under the arch and took in the full scene I just knew I wanted to take a picture to show Polly. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and felt a sudden tightening in my throat. My hands fell to my sides and I looked around me again. The air seemed filled with more than just dancing lights and fake snow swirling around frames in reindeer shapes. There was an almost palpable feeling of happiness. My face twisted and I felt tears filling my eyes. This made the lights sparkle even more and intensified the effect. I had to go and stand in a quiet corner of the park for a few minutes while I wept silent tears of wonder.

So what brought that on? Lack of sleep and a long day’s work? Maybe. I prefer to think that I walked slap bang into the Christmas spirit, way before I expected to, that it killed stone dead the last of the cold-hearted cynic within me and the tears were, maybe, of relief that such simple happiness could reach me. I wandered around the park like a man in a daze, with a smile playing around my lips. I shook hands with someone dressed as a giant chipmunk who had just hugged a little girl until she giggled. I tried to take some pictures with trembling hands, which I’ll try to load here too. They didn’t come out very well but that’s not the point. Something important happened to me on Saturday and I’m a better person for it.

So much so that I found myself back there tonight, enjoying the good vibes and the brief company of a very, very pretty lady and her children. And I bought a Christmas tree, more of which another night.

Touched

Two things of note happened today.

I did something very silly, which I have no intention of going into and later someone did the honour of trusting me with the truth.

I don’t propose to discuss that in detail either beyond saying that I don’t believe anyone has every valued me that highly before. I became quite emotional.

If you’ll pardon my being cryptic, that is all for tonight.

Protective

Over the years I suppose I've changed. Everybody does. I was painfully shy as a child, which probably caused me to over-compensate and to appear a bit of a spoiled brat at times.

One thing that hasn't changed in me is my compassion for others. However I might try to feign a world-weariness sometimes, I still worry about "people" in general. This way lies madness, if taken to extremes, so I've had to try to keep a lid on it and satisfy myself with the odd random act of kindness, supporting Greenpeace and trying not to be unpleasant to anyone, no matter how much I may dislike them or feel that they deserve it.

That's strangers, though. When someone close to me, whom I love and care about, is hurt or cross or upset then it's going to impact me. Not on the surface level where it affects my interactions with others or means I can't do my job. I mean deep down inside where the deepest and truest of emotions lay. The best way to describe it is "what touches you, touches me".

For someone I love, I'll take on the world, if they'll let me.

To warm….

There’s nothing for warming you when you’re cold like tomato soup. I’m almost tempted to capitalise that. Tomato Soup. There.

I hadn’t been at secondary school long – I must have been in the first or second year. A sponsored walk was organised to raise funds, if I remember correctly, for a new mini-bus for the school. The route for us young ‘uns was along the bank of the River Great Ouse from Lynn to Stowbridge, which made a round trip of about 13 or 14 miles. The older students had the option of pressing on the Downham Market, if they wished, making a round trip of about 25.

I have no idea what time of year it was, except that it clearly wouldn’t have been February or anything like that. Even though this was the late ‘70s, there would have been some kind of objection to kids walking at that time of year. Whenever it was, predictably, it threw it down with rain. We weren’t obliged to all stick together as long as no-one was walking alone. I seem to remember being a group of 5 of 6 and we were a rather sorry looking lot by the time we trudged into a marquee by the river at Stowbridge. We were wet through and thoroughly cold. Staff members were serving hot soup. I have never to this day tasted anything as delicious as the two cups of soup I had that day.

Obviously that’s a little artistic licence going on there. Nevertheless the taste of that soup, on that cold wet day, having walked for miles has stayed with me over the years. I don’t believe that I will ever taste Tomato Soup without thinking of that day.

Searching

I have had an evening of searching for that which I cannot find. Sounds profound I know.

I’m not talking about about searching for love or truth or righteousness. I’m referring to my fruitless search for €6 in Tesco vouchers. I meant to take them to Tesco, to put toward some shopping on Monday. Yesterday. I would have sworn that they were in my wallet but apparently not. Tonight I have lifted things, moved things, rummaged through things, shuffled things and scattered things. For God’s sake, I don’t have that many things here!

The vouchers have clearly slipped through through an eddy in the time-space continuum and are probably wafting gently in the breeze in 6th century Mongolia, or some such place.

I have been remarkably restrained and have not sworn at all. Well, hardly at all. When I have resorted to foul language it’s not been because of the non-appearance of the damnable vouchers, it’s been if I knock my knee on something. I tripped down a curb this morning, while not looking where I was going. My own fault entirely. The knee has been a little sore all day but is now gradually stiffening up. I’m going to take it off to bed, to the warm and have a few pages of my book.

And tomorrow, I promise, I will do the ironing. I’ll have to – I’m running out of shirts!

Streamlet of Consciousness

I just deleted several paragraphs. What I’d written made it sound like I’m miserable and I’m really not. I’m fairly chirpy, actually. So let’s start again, shall we?

My littlest girl is 15 today. I rang the school and checked she was having a good time. They offered to bring her to the phone but she was in the middle of “having a good time” and I didn’t like to disturb her. Don’t the years go by fast? Sometimes.

I remember when I was 15. It was about that age when I decided that I could overcome being painfully shy by inventing a persona – presenting a mask to the world, if you will. Very few people ever realised this. It’s only very recently that I’ve been able to let him slip quietly away into rehab and take up the reins of my own life again. Like pushing a car downhill, he kind of ran away with me. There are still people who only know me by his name.

Anyhoo, here I am, taking slightly bigger steps every day. When I have a certain hand in mine those steps could be on clouds.

Okay that last sentence may have stepped over the line. If anyone feels nauseous now, I apologise.

Shower. Ovaltine (I know, I know). Bed. Sweet dreams everyone.

Evening all!

Before it gets too late and I get too tired, just a few words.

It’s seemed cold here today. The strong wind has obviously been a part of that. I’ve hardly left the house at all. I strolled over to the local shop and bought milk, marmalade and biscuits but the whole trip took no longer than 10 minutes.

I’m guessing that the fact I haven’t had a decent walk today is the reason that I’m a bit achy. I’ve pottered around the house, done a whole bunch of laundry and some housework but steadfastly ignored the ironing. I’m used to walking a fairly good distance every day and the fact that I haven’t today has been a bit of a shock to my system.

I’ve always enjoyed walking. It’s very rare that the weather would put me off and it wouldn’t have today if I’d really wanted to go. I don’t suppose a day away from it will hurt. I really fancy walking amongst some trees, rather than down to and then around the city centre but we’ll see how it goes. I’ve got tomorrow off work so I’m not forced to do anything but will probably wind up getting some shopping.

What would be really cool would be a walk through dark, sheltered woodland, suddenly emerging from the trees to find myself on a windy headland looking out over a tear-swept bay. Ideally with my Lady beside me. Then a meal of hearty, home cooked food by an open fire in a tiny pub somewhere before walking back. Solitary drops of rain blowing in the wind, stopping to kiss under branches looming protectively over us.

Or sandcastles! I’d like to build sandcastles. I haven’t built sandcastles for years and years. I don’t think I’ve even set foot on a beach for longer than I care to remember. Crowded beaches in hot, sunny weather ain’t really my thing, as regular readers may be aware.

But she’s at work tomorrow and I’ll most likely find myself in a Tesco’s which is slightly more prosaic!

For whatever reason though, I can’t wait until the morning…

Guess what…?

I nearly went to a pub tonight. Shock horror!

No seriously. Myself and my Lady were invited out by a friend of ours who was going out to licensed premises with her team from work. Polly couldn’t make it but I had every intention of wandering down for a pint. It’s been well over a week since a drop has touched my lips.

I got as far as putting my boots and coat on and opening the front door. The rain was being hurled sideways down the street as the wind howled with insane glee. For some reason I couldn’t quite take this picture in. It’s not like it should have surprised me – the weather has been very wild here. I stood in the doorway for while prevaricating. And procrastinating. And probably a few other words beginning with “pr”. Then I turned around, took my coat off and put the kettle on. I must be getting old.

So I’ve had a night in with warm drinks and an internet connection that’s been surprisingly constant, given the prevailing weather conditions. Incidentally, something has just rattled against the back door. Either Marley’s ghost is early and lost or there’s hail about too. Lovely.

The day started with rain too. I was late up, having forgotten to set my alarm. What a dope! Luckily I woke with a start at 10 to 6, with plenty of time to walk down and catch a bus to be there before 7. Had it not been persistently raining I would have. Something inside me rebelled at the thought of the walk though and I bit the bullet and got a cab in. At least that way I had time for a coffee before I started.

I now have two days off, at least one of which ought to be spent catching up on the housework. “Ought to”. No really.

My main plan for tomorrow is to wake up early enough to enjoy lounging around in bed. Does that make even a tiny bit of sense? Not necessarily going back to sleep just stretching and snuggling and enjoying being warm and comfy. Sigh.

The effect of food

It’s not as late as last night but I’ve been out for a lovely meal with a beautiful lady tonight and am happy, fed and kinda drowsy. I don’t feel inclined to battle against the drowsiness nor to sit around in a, frankly, chilly lounge when I have a warm and cosy bed waiting for me.

So it’s goodnight, everybody. Catch you tomorrow.

Or maybe not

I feel kinda bad that I haven’t blogged tonight. It’s now got too late and I’m too tired for much.

In fact I’m too tired to try. Later dudes.