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Thursday 31st January 2008

last goodbye
A neighbour's elderly mother died yesterday. She had lived with B for twenty years, who had lovingly cared for her mum during that time. How selfless is that? B has had no life in all those years, has lost all her friends, given up working and now she has nothing to do! Her mum took all her daytime energy, and with deprived sleep as well, I just wonder how she managed to survive. Her mum refused to go into residential care, and was reluctant to allow other carers into the home.
But still B cared for, and loved her mum. She never had a cross word to say about mum, and dismissed any idea that she was a heroine (or stupid? - me) to do all that.
I cared for my mum for the last few years, but she was able bodied, and looked after herself. She needed motivation and
encouragement, and got depressed easily. This was such an emotional strain on me, and the stress showed years later. I felt wrecked by the anger inside me. This took me years to resolve. However it was my choice to go and live with her, and I didn't want to feel like a martyr. I was frequently rewarded with her thanks for doing so much, and being there for her. I remember getting so cross with her for say forgetting to shut the freezer door - left open all night, yet this is something I have done here, within the last year!
The inevitability of death for us all is something we should be able to face up to. Some people will plan and pay for their funeral, years ahead. It is important that family and friends are aware of our wishes in death, yet it is the last taboo. Do try to talk. My mother and I did, and it was such a comfort to know I was carrying out her wishes, at that difficult time, immediately after her death. There is so much to do in such a short time. Do get as much help as possible.
I want an alternative funeral, with a cardboard coffin, or cremation (with ashes scattered in a small memorial garden where I now live). Trouble is that for single people without family, there may not be anyone to carry out your wishes. Why not agree a reciprocal arrangement with a close friend or neighbour of similar age.
It took me fifty years to get to the point of not fearing my death. I try to live each day as if it was my last (except for the washing up) and feel I am ready - when the time comes. Whether I shall know about it maybe a different matter. I would rather pop off quickly than be a "cabbage" for years. My personal mobility is important to me, and when I can't, it will be difficult. The idea of old age is not an attractive proposition, and yet most people seem to manage. What they really feel like and think about though, is something we will have to wait to experience.
I am saddened when I hear of wasted lives, taken at such a young age. We should appreciate our lives more, take greater care of ourselves - and others.

Wednesday 30th January 2008

daily read
The Telegraph sent me an invitation to subscribe for a big reduction, and as I have just passed the one year anniversary of giving up smoking I decided to investigate. I phoned them, and spoke to a helpful young lady with a Swedish accent. She explained that I could purchase the half price vouchers for 3 months in advance. The papers would be delivered daily (delivery charge paid direct to the shop). That's seven days a week. Well as I am here most of the time it seems like a good idea, and thought I should reward myself! I paid, and the vouchers were sent direct to the local newsagents.
It started yesterday, and before 8am my paper was ready for me to read with my early morning cup of tea. What luxury, and so relaxing - any odd moment throughout the day I can sit down with the paper, and read a bit more.
If ever I bought a newspaper it would be The Telegraph, as I consider it to be well informed and interesting. The weekend papers with their supplements will take a bit longer, but like today I immediately discard the sport and business sections. I will read the travel, gardening, property and leisure sections, chuck the rest, and pass on the books supplement. The glossy mags are always nice to glance through, and the tv listings will save me buying one every week. My recycling bin will be overflowing every week from now on.
I am not a natural reader of books, and prefer non fiction. I just can't read novels. My last book was a true story about a man who went to live in a cabin in the Canadian wilderness, and I have just started an autobiography of George Michael. A lot of books come my way, but I pass them on to friends. These recently include The Queen (fictional auto bio) and Born Gay, the psychobiology of sex orientation - far too heavy for me!
I love magazines, but they are far too expensive for me to read regularly. I may buy odd copies of computer and internet mags (but avoid loading those free programs at all costs). I love Coast magazine, even though I moved from Worthing - inland, a couple of years ago, I still sometimes yearn for the wind swept promenade and large open space of a sea horizon. If I had the money I would probably return to live by the sea, but not Worthing - somewhere more rural, and high enough above sea level, because of global warming, and the rise of levels!
I joined the local library when I first arrived here, but have only taken out a few titles. Libraries are so good now, and open seven days a week. With the internet and decline in reading I feel that libraries as we know them today will have changed completely or gone, in ten years time. It certainly won't be the free service that it is now.
Anyway, a bit more to read in the paper. Wonder how long this cheap price will continue for, and how much more I will be
expected to pay after the first 3 months... I'll review the situation carefully at the time.
I think the paper has a dating section once a week - so look out for my ad!

Tuesday 29th January 2008
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how big
I am still having trouble with distances - everything seems to be in a foreign currency! How do you learn how far a centimetre is, or how big a kilo is, I can't. Yesterday I was looking for a replacement shower curtain. The existing one was too short, and water escaped across the bathroom floor. I measured the drop from the rail as 7 feet. Fine, so off I go with that figure in mind. I know this is extra long (but I am used to that) and expect to have to search for it. I try all the usual outlets, and quickly discover that of course it is measured in centimetres, so what is 180cms? Some time ago when buying (several) duvet covers I learnt that I needed 200cm by 200cm (double) for my single bed - yes, so it hangs over the edge! If that is about 6 feet, I knew I needed more... In John Lewis I found an extra big one, in plain white, and on the packet the measurements were: drop - 210cm. To be sure I had this right, I tracked down a mature assistant, thinking she would have an understanding of my problem. She went away to get a long steel roller tape, and extended it to the 210cm mark, I looked for the English equivalent, but then could not see it because it was so small. After putting on my reading glasses I discovered it was just about seven feet. Great! I need to work out a formula for conversion (would then need to carry a calculator) or maybe just my own tape measure, plus of course my reading spex!
The new shower curtain is perfect, and luckily the number of rings on the old rail matched up to the eyelets in the new curtain - amazing. Trouble is, because it fits so well, the cold air from the rest of the bathroom is not admitted - until you exit the shower, then it hits hard.
They tell me that wood is still sold the old way, you know 2 x 1, and all that. I think veggies have new and old, side by side.
When I went to Europe some years ago, it was all Euros, and what a nightmare that was. In the US, many years ago when you had two dollars for a pound I could just about work that out. I never understood litres when buying petrol, but don't do that now as I am a permanent bus passenger. Is height measured in cms or kilometres. How many mm's are there in a cm?
Maths was always my very worst subject at school as has been ever since. I see little point in it, yet it becomes a necessary evil. Now English or History, well they have some meaning to me and my life. Numbers can be fascinating to some but never me. I can cope with feet, inches and miles, but not the rest...
Now tell me, how big are you?

Monday 28th January 2008

do it yourself
I always imagine myself as a serious DIY man! I don't have a shed or a garage, but I do have a tool box and an electric drill. Nowadays, down to the bare necessities, but have had any number of tools - must be an extension of my love for gadgets, and containers. Everything used to sorted and labelled...I can still find things but that's because they are now all in the same box, albeit a large and very heavy one.
Sometimes, I don't know why I bother with DIY, except out of necessity, because it usually goes wrong in some way.
I am not very good at the planning. Often I will start a job on a whim - often to find I haven't got the right screws or parts. I start too quickly, and drill the hole before I've thought it through. The toilet roll holder had to come down because it prevented the toilet lid leaning against the cistern. Have you ever tried having a pee while holding the toilet lid up? Then there was the bathroom shelf that had to be moved because every time I bent down to clean my teeth I collided with it! Also the telescopic curtain rail that was too wide, and when cut down was too short!
The other day I was trying to fix a mirror to the wall which entailed attaching the fixings (supplied) to the rear of the frame before hanging on the wall. I started with the gimlet to make small holes before inserting the screws. The first set was OK but when I came to do the other set I found one of the screws had gone through the front side of the frame. It is not much, but of course I can see it all the time! I then had to fit hollow wall fixings before hanging the mirror. Before marking the drill holes I carefully measured the gap between them. I used my detector to "x-ray" the wall to make sure there were no hidden wires or pipes - I've made that mistake before. Because the "wall" at this point is plaster board, when I drilled the first hole the drill went in too far and the point of the drill bit came through into the next room! The second hole I was more careful, and low and behold the mirror fixings lined up with the wall supports, and there it is - still there, I dare not ever more it, in case something bad happens. Now, this mirror is next to the bathroom door, (you've guessed it) when the door is open the handle touches the mirror... and so it goes on. I just can't get it right.
I watered the two plants that I re-potted recently, and there was too much, so it overflowed from the retaining saucers - onto
the carpet! Whenever I do the hoovering, I stub my toe on something (hate wearing shoes) ...
I'm just not meant to do housework, am I?
Obviously I need to get a man in - but then it may be a different sort of DIY...?

Sunday 27th January 2008
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Gareth
Twenty something Gareth Gates was on the GMTV breakfast sofa on Friday morning, looking as cute as ever. Remember he came second in the 2002 Pop Idol (he's my idol as well) singing contest. Will Young was the winner, but young Gareth was so popular his early career was almost better than Will's. Currently Gareth is showing himself off in the ice dancing series. Hope he wins. His charming ways have seduced me into distant worship (well, I look at his web site from time to time - tell him I sent you!).
I hear he is getting married to dancer, and long term girl friend Suzanne, so I wish them both well. It must be very difficult trying to get the work-life balance for him. He became an instant celebrity and is now trying to keep in the public eye, yet have a private relationship. His commercial musical career is in decline, I would say, so he needs to find something else to do. Being so young, must be challenging in the sense that more established artistes having a track record, and more cash in the bank - don't have to try so hard.
Many children now want to be a "celebrity" without any talent, and because of the instant culture we live in, it is often possible. There is a whole industry around this celebrity thing, and a media frenzy that builds you up with maximum exposure - then drops you without cause or reason. They are constantly looking for any scandal or misdemeanour. It is increasingly difficult for any public person to have a private life.
So, that's not for me... I've got too many secrets in the closet and I would be "exposed" straight away. People would be selling their "kiss and tell" stories to Sunday newspapers and cheap celebrity magazines. I'd be in hiding on a Caribbean island... How awful not to be able to go out to a supermarket, except in disguise. How bad that the press is waiting outside your front door, ready to snap you at every stage. After being in the papers though, it must be hard to live without that fame. Remember the high you had when you starred in the school play or after dinner speech. I once gave a "humorous" speech to a drunken audience of business men, but it didn't last long enough, and I got booed out of the hotel - one of my top-ten most embarrassing moments.
Wonder what happened to Jade?
Maybe in years to come, people will be saying Gareth... who? His trade mark stammering and boyish good looks will remain I am sure... and I will still be looking at his web site. Bless!

Saturday 26th January 2008

pet sitting
It's been a while since I was asked to house sit, but I am available! My first job was for three weeks, in East Grinstead, Sussex. I went for an interview, met the two children and Mum, and the main reason for being there... dog, Sox and cat, Gribbles. They were both rescue animals, and came with their own problems. Sox, a middle aged Whippet was rather neurotic, and very nervous. Gribbles was elderly and liked to sleep a lot (most cats do). She had her favourite place on the sofa in the dining room. This was a large detached house in walking distance from the busy town centre, near a park and on the edge of woodland. I had never been to the place before, and quite liked this middle class commuter town.
At the interview I had told them I was very experienced - hmm, first time actually. Doing house and pet sitting is largely common sense, as long as you respect their property, and stay at home as much as possible. I had to walk the dog and do personal shopping, but otherwise I was able to enjoy the home and garden. I read a lot, watched tv, and plugged in my laptop (with permission).
At first I kept Sox on the lead for walks, but later released her - after talking to her and telling her that she had to be a good girl and not run off. I tell you, we bonded so well, it was fantastic, and it worked... she even sat there close by as if to confirm the trust that I had given her. I said OK, and she had a run around, coming back in good time. Trouble was her name Sox, who would have thought of this! When I had to call out her name, I am sure everyone in hearing distance must have thought I was shouting "sex" - I had some funny looks from other dog owners and walkers.
Gribbles came for her food at the appointed time, and gradually became more adventurous, joining Sox and I on the enormous sofa in the living room. I had been told at the interview that this was out of bounds to them, but so what! They enjoyed sharing my space. We slept together in a downstairs bedroom, and soon they were both following me everywhere around the house and garden - even to the loo, where they both sat outside and waited!
At the interview I was told which pet had which pills for various conditions, but when I was packing up on the last morning just before they returned from their trip, I found the original notes, and discovered to my horror that I had given the wrong pill to the wrong pet! Luckily there was no ill effect that I noticed, and of course I didn't mention this when they returned. She even thought that they were both looking good...

Friday 25th January 2008

postman
My postman is called Harry, and the milkman is called Paul (have you ever seen a milk woman?). I am fortunate to still have this personalised service, but for how much longer? Harry calls everyday, including Saturday, as far as I can tell. He comes at a different time each day, but it is out of his control - weather, volume of mail, and if he has had to do a double shift, all affect his arrival time. Whenever it is though, he always has a cheery smile, and a happy word or two. His job is not designed to let him stop and chat, but he does whenever he can, and joy of joys when Harry is walking his round he brings his dog - Bettie. She is a cappuccino coloured Labrador, but is enormous! She waddles along at her own space, never quite keeping up with Harry. In spite of her size, she is still allowed biscuits, and I save my old Digestives for her - not quite so fattening as custard creams! She only has one, and knows to wait at my front door in case I am in. Harry walks on, and she waits for me to appear with the biscuit. She is adorable, and like all Labs has the sweetest nature. Sometimes I am late opening the door, and if she has given up waiting, she will hear me and come back for her tit bit. Harry tells me, she always waits for a minute or so. At Christmas I gave her some special dog biscuits, which I hear she enjoyed. Bettie is getting old now, and when she is not there, for a moment... I fear the worst. Then again in a day or so, there she is, so all is well, and she just had a day off to lie on her living room rug and dream of the day she was able to chase other dogs, rabbits or whatever.
I dream of owning a dog - I'd choose one from a rescue centre... BUT the reality is that I won't because of my lifestyle and the importance of thinking carefully about this before getting the pet. Cost would be a factor - food and vets bills. I am out a lot, and away sometimes - all difficult when having a little one. He'd be like the child I haven't got! In the past when pet sitting I always bonded well with the pets of the house, and it was sad to leave them, when the owners returned from their holiday.
I have had different pets during my life, but the sadness of their departure would not put me off giving a doggie a good
home - they return your love... tenfold.
So then... if I can't cuddle a dog, maybe I had better find a young man... Can you get them from rescue centres?

Thursday 24th January 2008
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net power
Although I am located in the circle above, I am part of the global network - so are you. The internet is the single most powerful force affecting our lives today. More influential than local governments, and maybe the start of something bigger...
Notice how the old map above omits Ireland. Weather forecasts used to include Northern Ireland, missing out Ireland, like it was invisible. How strange. The UK is changing fast, with governments for Scotland and Wales, and the ever changing population - the latest survey revealed that actually more people leave than arrive. How do they know. Are there armies of civil servants with clip boards at airports and docks around the country?
My invisible tracking on this site reveals that readers are located in every continent, every English speaking country and even in a toilet in Milton Keynes - is that YOU? Up to now you can see me, but soon I'll be able to see you...
The internet also brings with it, the bad, or is the change inevitable and it just happens quicker. An alleged teenage suicide cult is fuelled by a social networking site, hordes of pedophiles are grooming children, and married lovers meet for casual sex... how come I can't find a suitable boyfriend?
Is the web to blame for a breakdown in society. Surely not. The pace of living today is aided by the internet, and the instant culture we have come to expect and enjoy is only possible because of this communication phenomenon. That's really what it is all about - communication. There are now so many ways to contact each other it can be quite bewildering. Sometimes I wonder if it is really necessary. But if we are to be a mobile society, then it is, I guess.
Communication then, and knowledge. Need to know anything, you can always find it quickly on the net. This new way is affecting our lives in many ways - less music sales, decline in books (except those celebrity autobiographies, so favoured by supermarkets - how can you write an autobiography at 21?), and the freedom to exist. Think about it.
With this accelerating net power (the web was invented by English scientist Tim Berners-Lee in 1989) we now have remote access, file sharing, streaming media, instant messaging, and of course email. A whole new vocabulary is springing up. The PC can be a TV, telephone and fax machine, and innovation provides mind blowing statistics.
Cyberslacking is the term for workers spending time on personal email and social sites - and probably making a date for that evening!
Privacy and censorship are issues that continue to cause conflict...
Here's an expression I like - "The dark portal to infinity..."

Wednesday 23rd January 2008

talking
I suppose its what makes us humans special, and different from other species - language. Lets call it talking (and listening) but there's one at every bus stop, usually a female of the species that insists on TALKING to someone (not always the person next to them) often quite loudly and always boringly... and they certainly NEVER listen!
It must be a medical condition, but I don't see why we should have to put up with it. Imagine the scenario (like yesterday returning from Hemel Hempstead) I am waiting at the bus stop. There's already a large woman there, and a slimmer one, who don't seem to be connected. I shelter under the cover as it is raining, and look blankly towards the roadway, and beyond at the lake where ducks and swans are feeding - this is giving a misleading impression of the town! So, I quickly realise the large woman is THE TALKER, and half listening, all I hear is inconsequential rubbish. At all costs I will avoid eye contact (that's fatal) and pretend to be hard of hearing - in case she directly accosts me about something she has said, or asks me a direct question. Help!
The slimmer woman stooge seems trapped and has made the mistake of answering or commenting, also fatal, because it simply fuels the energy of the talker. Without listening to the reply from her question to the stooge, she will accelerate towards even more minute details of her sad life.
Don't they ever get out, or this the reason they do?
Sometimes, sitting innocently on the bus, a talker will arrive and sit next to me. Immediately they start talking. I always ignore them - be prepared, don't ever say a word. Once a man asked if he could sit next to me on a vacant seat. I said yes, as long as he didn't talk to me. He agreed, and even so, I had to remind him assertively that I was not going to talk. He mumbled about me being unfriendly, and eventually shut-up.
If I want to talk - that would be unusual as I am a "listener", fine but I am not going to allow strangers to invade my personal space. Of course its not always strangers is it, some "friends" are like this - all talk and no listen. At the end of a long "conversation" they do a one-liner, like "how are you" then before you can answer, they say, well, must go... People like that don't survive in my address book for long.
Talking (conversation) should be like Wimbledon or ping pong - alternate talking and listening. Commenting on the last thing the other person said, so they know you heard them and are interested enough to acknowledge it.
I find generally that single people, living alone, can sometimes unburden themselves with a tirade of meaningless chat, to get it off their chest. Some oldies who say they haven't spoken to anyone for several days, must be quite lonely - lets listen to what they have to say, graciously. It might be us one day. That's quite different...
But I draw the line between that and THE TALKERS, so beware - don't try it on when I'm around...

Tuesday 22nd January 2008

blue monday
I know its Tuesday - I am writing to say I survived yesterday, labelled by the media as "blue monday". Apparently the most depressing day of the year, because of the anti-climax of the Christmas and New Year holiday, this months' pay is already spent, the weather, and dark gloomy days of winter. I add also, the realisation that many relationships are finished, following the over exposure during that holiday period. Luckily not much of that list directly affects me, except perhaps the weather.
My remedy is to go to bed and sleep. I have been rather negative during the last few days - as reflected in my blog. Yet I should be happy. Bought and fixed a tall, wall mirror, purchased two large indoor plants for the living room, and heard from someone who is apologising for the past, and hoping to "start again". Trouble is, I am not quite sure who it is, could be one of several guys. My recent past is a history of failed relationships! He is inviting me to telephone him, but I am reluctant at the moment - for fear of opening old wounds. A friend is visiting from Worthing, and staying a couple of days, and next Saturday I will be in London with another friend.
On Saturday, I went to the theatre with a small group of friends to see Gilbert and Sullivan's Ruddigore - not my favourite genre, but the ticket was a present to thank me for computer help, so I accepted graciously.
I try to be positive, and above all, be grateful for what I have, and who I am. Being content is a great part of being positive. The foundation to build on. Think of needs rather than wants. Minimise possessions, and think of others more. I could have let myself get depressed last week, because my broadband router died. My ISP is Waitrose, and the man there talked me through various remedies, and decided to send a replacement. It failed on Wednesday afternoon, and the new modem arrived on Friday morning. I thought that was very good. During the loss of service, I uploaded my blog each day via a USB modem. Setting it up again was a nightmare, because Waitrose had changed my password as part of the fault finding process, and also I didn't know whether to use the existing url or an IP number. Anyway, got there in the end, and delighted to be so. Then of course had to catch up with my emails - nearly 100... 98 were spam!

Monday 21st January 2008
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call of the sink
Possibly my most hated activity - washing up. Something I should try to do daily, perhaps before going out, but this is something I put off doing for as long as possible - even to the extent of buying disposable plates! This means that I probably won't do it until all the cutlery has been used. It's all lying in soak in the washing up bowl. I have one regular mug, which I rinse after use, and loads of others - donated from CK's travels around the world, and they only get used once by a visitor. I leave them in soak on the draining board, until there is no more room. How disgusting is this?
It's like ironing, hate it, and usually avoid ironing anything except my handkerchiefs. So everything is creased - do I care? Well I do when anyone comes round. That's when I notice more how better things could be if I tried harder! I manage the hoovering when I have to, and dusting when someone is due. That is not to say the place isn't clean and tidy - just not quite 5 star. Now if I had a butler or au pair boy, that would be something else.
Have you seen those ads from guys who want to come round to your place and do housework in the nude? What is the point of that, does one just sit and watch - or am I being naive? Perhaps they wear a pinny - that doesn't do much for me. Once though I did employ a gay painter to decorate a room in my flat in Pimlico. He turned up wearing the complete white paint-splattered boiler suit, which suited his swarthy complexion. It was a warm day, and he was sweating every time I brought him a cold drink. I bravely suggested he removed the boiler suit, which he did immediately - guess what - he was wearing nothing underneath! He was relieved to be able to work without the boiler suit, but said I would have to help him wash off any paint splashes on his skin. I really didn't know what he meant by that... but did assist when the time came - what good fun!
Anyway - back to the washing up... when the time is right I don the yellow Marigolds, roll up my sleeves and set to. It actually doesn't take very long, and when everything is dried and consigned to the cupboard, with the sink polished - it looks great. After things are put away I'll have a coffee to celebrate, and that means another mug to wash... and so it goes on. Do you think the painter will do washing up as well?

Sunday 20th January 2008

people
I don't like groups, parties and lots of people together - even in shops and supermarkets. You've experienced it as well, I am sure - that inner feeling of good OR bad (sometimes ...AND) vibes - that you unconsciously receive from people in an enclosed space. It could be "love at first sight" but more often I feel the negative from people - that drains me, so I avoid it. It is supposed to be the aura - that invisible field around our bodies that sends and receives these feelings. On a good day, when you are feeling content and positive, do you notice how well you are received by friends, co-workers, and even strangers.
I have always operated better in small groups, and feel best suited as the number two person. Never wanted to be the leader or manage staff, but as number two, I could support the leader and encourage others around me (mothering instinct?). I suppose life is a lot to do with the pecking order? As number two I was in a good position to gossip - love that. I was often mischievous though, and found I could manipulate people easily. I am a great wind-up merchant as well. This used to be called gamesmanship, and there were a series of light hearted books about this area of human interaction.
With my tarot cards, I used to do psychic readings, and was often quite accurate, but I found this took my energy away, so have abandoned this practice. It is possible to "read" from almost anything. A party piece I used to do was from crumpled paper. I'd get them to scrunch up a piece of plain paper in their left hand, then I would gently unravel it and predict - don't know how it works, but it can tell you about past, present and future.
As a teenager, while on holiday with a favourite auntie, to the Isle of Wight, I remember how horrified she was when I described the beach as "crowded" when there were only a handful of people there. I love nothing more than an out of the way hotel in off season with only a few guests. You have whole rooms to yourself for reading or quiet contemplation. One Christmas I was one of only three guests at Chalice Well in Glastonbury - peace, perfect peace. I just hate hotels now, mainly from a noise point of view. People slam their doors, stamp up and down corridors, and always have their tv on far too loud. I always ask for a quiet room, and complain every time if I don't get it. In Torquay once I was given a room above the disco or ballroom - can you imagine how that sounded. Even the receptionist was horrified. Don't the staff ever get to experience different rooms in their hotel?
In supermarkets, with bright lights, loud unsuitable background music (chosen by and for the benefit of staff I am sure) I often get panic attacks, and feel hot and sweaty - I have to get out fast. Am I a dizzy queen or what...?

Saturday 19th January 2008

gulls
Although an animal lover, gulls are not my favourite bird. When I first went to live by the sea at Worthing in Sussex, I was captivated by the sight and sound of sea gulls. Envious friends would comment of the sound of gulls in the background when they telephoned me. In all the years I was there, I was only dumped on once, when walking on the sea front. That was lucky (not to have been dumped on more) NOT "lucky" that it happened - like some say! It is the most disgusting mess, gets everywhere and never seems to wash out. What do you do when going home on the bus. I was "lucky" to be allowed on. I thought I had a bad diet until I saw their poo close up !!!
This all got rather complicated when early one Summer a gang of them took up residence on a rooftop across the road from my flat. Yes, they were breeding - frequently. Then hatching, then feeding young - I've never seen a baby gull, they all seem to be immediately "small adult" size. The extended family of gulls, were taking it in turns to guard the flock, mother sitting on the nest and generally using the whole event as an excuse for having a 24 hour party. The screeching noise became intolerable, and then of course as part of the gull mafia, the (presumably) young males (with hoods) were dive bombing passers by in the street to warn they away. I was attacked - pecked on the head, blood running down my face. Strangely I didn't feel the blood until someone mentioned it at the bus stop. They say that often happens when you get shot... Luckily the gulls aren't armed yet!
Once they have been there, they return, so of course this became a regular thing. Even before the breeding started, pairs of gulls would be checking out the rooftop, looking for the best position. The favoured place for a nest was immediately behind a chimney stack, on the upside of the slope. In that position the nest would be more secure. I have to say the construction process was quite fascinating. Eventually the local authority installed some automatic sound equipment, which made "bird of prey" noises to scare them away - it worked, but then residents were complaining about that noise!
I thought I had escaped the curse of the gulls when I came to live in Hertfordshire, but no, still more here, and one sunny day in Watford I am enjoying a cappuccino outside Prescence, the newish (Christian) gift shop and cafe next to T J Hughes, when something plopped into my cup, then onto my arm and hand - yes it was them again... I think I recognised him from Worthing!

Friday 18th January 2008
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tea total
Rather an odd expression isn't it, but my preference is NO alcohol. When younger I used to go to pubs, and parties but even then drinking wasn't the main focus, it was more to get the other person pissed, so I could more easily have my wicked way with them! Pubs were an institution, a way of life. I was a regular visitor to The Salisbury in St Martin's Lane - that was my first gay pub. Later when I lived in Pimlico, my regular was The Vauxhall Tavern. I have fond memories of both - the first because I was coming out and felt the need to be with other "daring" gays. Years after I used the Vauxhall Tavern as a pick-up place, as it was just a short walk over the bridge to my pad of pleasure! One evening when returning (he was staggering) we saw a car on fire with the driver temporarily trapped - the shock caused him to sober up very quickly, but he still came back with me. I never had any booze at home, so we got into bed to comfort each other!
On holiday in Wales with a few friends on a horse drawn gypsy caravan, I was kicked in the back by the horse. Taken to hospital, after being carried over the fields to the ambulance, I stayed in Brecon Hospital for several days, with a hairline fracture to one of my vertebrae. They visited me there, and by arrangement had carried on without me to complete the trip, and then made their own way home. I got back to Ealing the following week, and had to lie on the floor to sleep. I was a civil servant at the time, so sufficient time off was not a problem, but it was so painful at first, and later just boring. One day I went out and bought a bottle of Cinzano Bianco, don't know why I chose that one. Anyway, I fell in love with the taste (think I had tonic with it) and soon was buying a bottle every DAY. The weeks became months, and I was permanently sloshed. It certainly helped me get through that bad period, but one day I realised this could not continue, and arranged to return to work the following week. Amazingly I gave up drinking immediately I had decided that.
Because of this experience, I thought it best not to have any drink at home, or to venture into bars or pubs. Although I was smoking I hated the smoky pub atmosphere even then. My job as a chauffeur meant no drinking and driving. Pubs became more aggressive, and soon I didn't miss it at all.
If ever I have a glass of wine nowadays I become intoxicated very quickly. I was always a happy drunk, never any shouting, just more loving - and by the way I never had "brewers droop" - quite the opposite effect !!!

Thursday 17th January 2008

what time is it
Our lives seem governed by time. For years I have tried to avoid being a slave to the clock by not possessing or wearing a watch. Now I have to check my mobile to read the time. Public clocks are rarely accurate, and I hate having to ask a stranger the time! I need to know the time in order to catch the bus without running for it - and to avoid just missing it. I know if I am hungry without looking. Yet without the time it can be scary. Let me explain...
I am fond of an afternoon siesta if I am not doing anything special. Yesterday afternoon was typical, I been out most of the morning, had lunch, sat down to watch the end of the lunch time news, and felt sleepy - so went to lay on the bed. I keep my clothes on, and cover myself with a light blanket, draw the curtains, and sometimes unplug the phone. Well, I must have drifted off quite quickly and there were no interruptions. I awoke some time later, and it was dark. Immediately I had a vital urge to discover the time, because I didn't know whether it was later that afternoon, or early the next morning. I was in a state of temporary panic. Actually it was about 6pm, so I had slept a long time and felt a bit woozy, having leapt out of bed so quickly. Now, did it really matter?
Early man must have slept during the hours of darkness, and got up in the light. We don't need to do that, and in the past I have worked night shifts. I just don't know how people manage to do that for a lifetime. I never felt so ill as during that period. My stomach was always out of order, and of course I felt jet lagged most of the time. There was a strange romance about working while everyone else slept, and the short lived joy of going home when others were going to work. The fear of not sleeping enough, the worry about being woken by noise or other drama, and the knowledge that I would have to drag myself back again later that same day. It was like working twice the hours of day workers. There were long weekends, but I was so shattered, I just needed to catch up on my sleep. The adjustment to a daytime routine was never achieved in the time, and there was no social life - either because of lack of energy or interest, or simply that we were never available at the same times. Oh dear!

Wednesday 16th January 2008

blog
Do you recognise the erixlife home page image? My blog started on a commercial blog site in September 2007, and I created the erixlife site in November 2007 when I transferred the contents and expanded to include more background to my life and interests. I am glad I made the changes, but of course I am now in isolation. Who reads the blog - well actually quite a lot of people, but not enough to justify an erixlife yahoo group it seems. I abandoned that fairly quickly. Because I am off site, I cannot link easily to other blogs - the price of independence! I am busy (not busy enough) trying to list erixlife with as many sites as possible, and have introduced the new "have your say..." link. I will add comments to blog posts if they are interesting and appropriate.
I am very glad I started this, and will continue every day I am at home (and standing up). I now write a slightly longer piece each time, and will probably restrict myself to one item a day.
My greatest blog fan is CK, a dear friend of some 16 years he tells me. He has had an adventurous life, although he is much younger than me, but now lives a frustratingly boring, and quiet life in the west country. For the time being his life seems to be on hold, but I am sure when circumstances change he will again reach his full potential.
I have prepared a major timeline feature, but am reluctant to include this on the site, because it contains too many personal details, and it would be foolish to do so. I am concerned about identity theft, and feel that far too many people put too much about themselves online. I say a lot, and a student of erixlife would do well with all the tit-bits of information - not that I have anything to steal...
I couldn't have written so frankly when I was younger, but with maturity comes a peace of mind and acceptance of oneself. I have always been an OUT gay, but at the same time I been a "private" person - that seems to have changed now. I don't know who said "No man is an island" but it is more true for me now than ever before. With retirement comes the loneliness of separation, and I so wish to keep in touch, make new friends, and hopefully start a new relationship - write to me immediately...

Tuesday 15th January 2008

behaviour
A security guard in an Oxfam shop in Manchester, parking wardens in Asda car parks handing out £60 fines if you park in the wrong place - what is happening? We have seen uniformed security guards in multiple retail outlets for some time. In shopping centres too. In the Harlequin in Watford, the men wear charcoal grey suits, with curly corded American style FBI earpieces. They look smart with their white shirts and ties - that is their uniform as no one else seems to wear ties any more - including me. They lurk in ones and twos and are forever talking into their lapels! Are they a deterrent, or a private police force. The Oxfam shop in Manchester is probably no bigger than most of the rest of them, and with bulging second hand clothes rails it is quite difficult to manoeuvre from the door to the video tapes on the back wall - that's where I head for. With DVDs now, the humble video tape is no longer required, so they are cheap to purchase.
Many schools have uniformed people (teachers?) and access control, but still the kids carry knives and guns too I hear. Many provincial cities are like war zones, and gangs control the streets. No wonder old ladies barricade themselves into their fortress like homes on council estates. Do aggressive dog owners fear or intimidate? Where are the police now - there are community support officers, whoever they are. Who is running the country?
Now with Asda's force of parking attendants will we be forced into submission - it seems ironic that they are turning on their customers - like closing time used to be in pubs? (They never close now). Is it because we won't behave though - we shouldn't be parking in a disabled bay, and we shouldn't be stealing clothes from a charity shop. Has the revolution started. Is anarchy just around the corner. More and more policemen are visibly armed. The rich are getting richer...

Monday 14th January 2008
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crop circles
Do you believe? The crop circle phenomenon world-wide has diminished recently, but has been going for many years. I DO. I think it is as likely as UFOs. Too many people have seen... I saw a crop circle near Amersham in Buckinghamshire several summers ago. It was an amazing experience. Early afternoon on a hot August day, I am driving and suddenly see it in a field on my right - quite an ornate design, but of course I didn't have my camera with me that day! Most think it may be an energy from above, but why not below? Sceptics will of course dismiss everything as a hoax. There is so much about our Universe that we do not understand. Just because we cannot see something, doesn't mean it doesn't exist, does it. Can you see LOVE? You can see the effects of many energies, but can you see pure energy. That is perhaps what we may one day achieve, after many lifetimes of learning. We are here to learn, and our spirit is re-born to another form for continued meaningful experience.
Re-incarnation is something I have have much experience of. An article about me in the Brighton Argus described me as a believer in death before life. As a hypnotherapist, I have guided many clients to describe their past lives. I myself have had several recalls, notably as a bishop, who near death desperately agonised over his loss of faith many years before. He cannot resolve this conflict and is about to die. He faces darkness and terror, because he should have faced up to this previously. I learn a lot about my life today from past experiences. There was a client who had a fear of water, until she relived a death experience of drowning. From then on she was healed, and learned to enjoy swimming.
Did I tell you about the time I was abducted by aliens...

Sunday 13th January 2008

divorce
In Warsaw recently, a Polish man was visiting a brothel. To his horror he saw his wife in the line-up. Later they divorced! Why is it OK for a husband or partner to visit a brothel, yet not OK for the wife? Double standards again. Apparently, the divorce rate in Poland is shooting up, after they come to work in the UK, leaving partners with children back home. The errant husbands are led astray here, discover the freedom of the west, and dump their old lifestyle - cold and grey mainly, I hear.
Too many single parents struggle to cope with too many children, and not enough time or money. It is always the innocent children who suffer the most. Troubles in childhood make for more trouble in their later lives, and probably their children's' as well. I was placed in a children's home as a baby, and later adopted, so I have an appreciation of the problems. Being adopted is certainly a wonderful thing, but I always felt I just existed, rather than being born. I certainly feel a link to my unknown birth mother - who I never met. I did try, but the source dried up after she moved to an unknown place. I had a "sister" I hear. Information provided by the adoption agency is never enough to satisfy a young mind, anxious for their information right. Now, I accept it is too late for me, my adoptive parents have died, my birth mother probably as well - I will never know - and I am alone...

Sunday 13th January 2008

coffee sharing
I read that in Naples it is fashionable to share their coffee in cafes and bars. Up to three people will drink out of the same cup! Etiquette suggests they should use the left, right, then centre - to place their lips on the cup. Why not use a straw? This is apparently because of the cost - well I know what that is like. A small (called a regular in some establishments) cappuccino now costs around £2. This size thing reminds me of similar in Japan, when they sell condoms - think about it! Anyway in some cafes my de-caf cappuccino costs MORE than the regular strength. The Italians say their cost of living is shooting up, and this is the only way they can still enjoy their Expresso.
I had my first cappuccino in St Marks's Square (Venice) a hundred years ago, and I thought it was expensive then, but the view helps. A real cappuccino lets you stand the spoon vertically - don't put up with anything less. There are many sad imitations, all charging more than filter coffee with (hot) milk. I find with my de-caf I need less sugar, so that's got to be a good thing. At home I have ordinary de-caf, with powdered lite milk, and NO sugar - even better.
Have you noticed how expensive the pastries are in coffee house are, and they always say, would you like a muffin or cake? I always say no, thank you. That's like in the supermarket, when they keep asking me - Have you got a Nectar / Boots / or whatever reward card. No to everything.

Sunday 13th January 2008

wash your hands
It is so simple, but could save infection transfer massively. Washing your hands - not just after the toilet, but when coming in or going out, and hopefully before, during and after food preparation. If I can't get to water I use a small spray which dries quickly on its own, and cuts down on the old germs. People don't seem to bother so much. Have you seen them sneezing and coughing in public... ? It's disgusting. Millions of us have the norovirus at present, and simple measure could really prevent this transferring.
On holiday in Barnstaple, some time ago, I caught the norwalk virus in the hotel. Half the guests were in bed with vomiting and the runs - for up to three days. I was even charged for the phone call to the local doctor (who could do nothing) but graciously hung on, in between the sickness, when I had to put the phone down on the bedside table. As I checked out, I complained about the lack of attention as I was in the bedroom on my own and could have died! I eventually had a refund voucher for £25, but this was only usable within their hotel group. No way. I wrote to every director of the firm, asking for a full refund, saying that they had neglected their duty of care. After more to-ing and fro-ing, and phone calls I received the cheque. Well done me. You have to persevere. They said I was a bit theatrical when I made up dummy newspaper headlines saying things like - Hotel guest found dead in bedroom, Sick guest abandoned in 5 star hotel. It worked for me though, didn't it.

Saturday 12th January 2008
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etiquette
A school in Brighton is to introduce compulsory lifestyle training for its students, including laying a table place and using cutlery. This is most wonderful news as no one seems to know or care anymore. Standards are so low, they have dropped off the edge of the table! I suppose this is partly because families don't eat together much now. There can't be much etiquette in eating fast food with fingers in front of the tv? One thing I hate when eating out are the small thin paper napkins. Even at friends', they rarely provide even paper towel - I just ask for it. If you ever come for dinner at mine you will receive a quality full size 3 ply white paper serviette!
The lifestyle course teaches essential everyday activities such as ironing, plain cooking, polite behaviour and helping people. All things I could have benefited from, even though my school in Harrow was quite snobbish. The head, a bald headed gentleman with a german sounding name described everyone as the "great unwashed". We had to stand when teachers entered the classroom, and we were taught to give up seats on public transport if appropriate. I wish we had learnt about cooking and financial management. Surely education is about preparation for life. Surviving on the streets even. We have an obsession with competitive behaviour and paper achievements, but have missed the core values. Parents - do more for your children.

Saturday 12th January 2008

afternoon tea
While away during the week, we had afternoon tea every day at 4pm. It is a very traditional English household, and quite formal. Tea consists of Earl Grey (de-caf for me) with a selection of cake and biscuits - no sandwiches. Tea is made in the pot and kept warm on the Aga. Attendance is compulsory. The gardener and all staff attend, and sit with host in a pecking order. The best chairs are reserved for master and guest (that's me) irrespective of order of arrival. Best china always, the only concession nowadays are the best quality china mugs. Conversation during tea is encouraged, and when I'm there we have outrageous and hilarious banter. He does not always approve, and frowns at me across the table... Tea ends at 5pm, the master rises and departs to the snug for a snooze before the news at 6pm. I then watch Deal or No Deal.
Last year a group of friends and I had tea at The Athenaeum in Piccadilly - although a modern hotel, very comfortable and nice with the inevitable cucumber sandwiches, cakes and a glass of champagne. Two years ago, whilst visiting Bath with a friend, he took me to tea at The Roman Baths. That was really special, and was accompanied by a piano playing woman in black. The staff wore black and white, and the service was impeccable. There was a long queue every afternoon. I suspect a lot of the guests were tourists as there was some flash photography. A daily delight when visiting Devon or Cornwall has always been the local cream tea, with jam and cream on freshly baked warm scones. All very English!

Friday 11th January 2008

Spring in Sussex
Back from short trip to mid sussex, where I saw daffodils amid mole hills in muddy green fields. Lambs were reported from south Devon, and I felt a milder air between the showers. Barely have the Christmas decorations come down, yet I feel the Spring is starting. Spent a few days with elderly friend celebrating his 81st year. Sadly he is weary of life, and finds mobility a problem. He sleeps a lot - day and night, and gets confused easily. He is reluctant though to accept the years of age, and won't easily give up driving. I fear for his safety at times, but he battles on with forceful spirit. He is not a quitter, and this will probably keep him going. Mumsie was over 100, and I think people of their generation, who experienced so much, good and bad - live longer because they will not let go of life. One day their new journey will begin, over which they have no control - let it be a good journey.

Tuesday 8th January 2008

bacon
The last temptation for a lapsing vegetarian - the archetypal bacon sandwich. Succumbed to the smell and juicy taste at lunchtime. Have one a year, and in between am mainly non-meat eating, although enjoy most poultry. Never touch beef, and don't like lamb. Have been this way for a long time, and generally felt better - physically and mentally. Because I don't like cooking, my diet is pretty poor and I never manage to eat enough fruit or vegetables. The sandwich was so delicious, I had another one!

Tuesday 8th January 2008
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Barclays
Had one of those letters from the bank, so went to see them, asked for an adviser but got the manager. Well, you know what they say about policemen looking younger... he looked like a teenager (quite attractive, except for the long hair). Invited me to call him by his first name! We sat together at a computer screen where he reviewed my financial situation with colourful graphs and pie charts - I can't get that when I log-in to the internet banking site. He said I kept my account in good order (although there's not much money in it) and that he would REFUND the £30 charge for going overdrawn just before Christmas. Wow! what a gent. I didn't expect that. Got him to transfer the refund into my almost empty savings account - he liked that. So a good start to the bitterly cold day. Celebrated with a de-caf cappuccino in nearby Costa. There's always a queue there.

Monday 7th January 2008

clouds
As a child I used to imagine the sun disappeared on a cloudy day, but when I started flying and went above them, there it was all the time! What an amazing discovery, better than the earth NOT being flat! Clouds are amazing things, they all have names, but what I remember is lying on the ground looking up and watching them racing across the sky. Big fluffy ones and very light whispers. Just magical. Those summer days, often on cricket days while waiting my turn to bat I would dream of my future, and fantasize. It was at that time that I decided I did not want a conventional career, did not want to get married or have children. No regrets now on any of those.

Monday 7th January 2008

pills online
I have just requested repeat prescription items online from my surgery. This is so brilliant, and has been going for some months. I hope the system is established by now, but the chemist has warned me against it. I'm all for trying "new" things, and this seems so sensible. I have an arrangement with the local chemist to collect the prescription from the surgery, so I all need to do is to collect the items from them - but all this will take several days. I am away from tomorrow for a few days, so this is a good time to try it. If only the chemist would deliver the items to my home, it would be perfect. They do this for oldies but I don't qualify for this.

Monday 7th January 2008

sticky labels
Don't you hate those labels stuck on things - price, brand or barcode - that won't come off! I do, and aim to remove all labels off everything. In the same way I would not wear designer labels or carry supermarket plastic bags. There is no rhyme or reason as to whether they will come off in one piece. Price of the item is not relevant. Try asking the shop assistant - will the label peel off without trace? You can guess what the answer will be. If it doesn't come away immediately, you are snookered. There are products for removing labels, but beware they will probably leave marks, and the gunge process is really off-putting. In the end I have to turn the item around, so the remnants of the label don't show, put the thing in the back of the cupboard or give it away!

Sunday 6th January 2008
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balsa wood
Every two years at school we had the Festival of Arts, covering everything you could think of. Half way through my school career I entered a balsa wood model of Sydney Harbour Bridge. It was three feet wide, and took ages to construct. The bendy arches had to be steamed then stuck, many broke in the process. There was a miniature toy shop near where I lived, which stocked every shape and size of balsa wood. The man there was very supportive of my interest, and kept asking me into the back room! I went once. There was a filthy toilet and stained sink with a kettle on the draining board. A curtain separated this room from the shop. He was rather overweight so when we were there together we had to stand rather closely together. I felt he enjoyed this, if you know what I mean. Because so many customers kept entering the shop he abandoned the idea of pursuing his attraction! He must have loved money more than me!
Anyway my splendid model won the star prize. Two years later I created a balsa wood model of the Eiffel Tower, but didn't make the best prize that time. By this time I sourced my materials from a different shop, with a larger back room !!!

Sunday 6th January 2008

ammonite
At school I founded the geological society, supported by my favourite master (of geography). He went to live in the Bahamas and was never heard of again. My other favourite teacher was unfortunately arrested for importuning in a cottage (public toilet). It was in the local newspaper, so he had to resign - what a tragedy. He never molested any boys, and was a great mentor for me. The only person in the world I could talk to about my sexuality (illegal then of course).
Anyway because of my interest in fossils and the like, we had a society and went on field trips - once to the Dorset coast (near the Devon border). I badgered my parents into finding a geological hammer. We discovered one in an old hardware shop, in the Harrow area. It had sawdust on the floor, and men in brown coats who called every customer "Sir" or "Madam". I and the boys dug ammonites out of the cliff, and on the rocky foreshore. Years later a whole section of the same cliff eroded over night - do you think we contributed to that?

Friday 4th January 2008

economic migration
While I was away this week (returning the car) I spotted an item in the Daily Telegraph which sums up for me why uncontrolled immigration is bad for this country. According to the paper, the National Bank of Poland says Polish migrants to the UK are sending home around £9million a DAY. That money does not benefit our economy as it should. It seems that unqualified Brits are unable to get jobs because of the influx of migrants. Some towns are now dominated by new language and cultures, and local authorities are unable to cope. All encouraged by our government - when is the next election?

Tuesday 1st January 2008

Happy New Year
My new year message is Hello World, and lets try to do better with the fundamental things, like peace, hunger and global warming. I think it all starts at a personal level, and should be about love - unconditional love. We need to be at peace with ourselves, so we can love our neighbours, work colleagues, other drivers and people in the same queue! Is there a need to always be the first on or off the bus? It is not a sign of weakness to let someone through, or offer a seat is it. Do what you do with the right spirit. Always do the right thing. That was the motto of The church of Tranquility that I founded some years ago. I had been ordained by the American Universal Life Church (call me Rev) as I felt drawn to this. I was condemned in the local press as I was offering ordinations. I ordained a reporter from the Sunday Telegraph but never heard from her again. The article never appeared! Later I tried to get into pet funerals, but no success. My ministry lapsed, and hear we are...