Tag Archives: friends

Day 166

I had a good blood test this morning. The weather was cool, the waiting room placid and the wait was not too long. I made three notes in my notebook, gave disapproving glances to my co-waiters (one playing noisily on his phone despite being in his 40s and one being “exempt” from wearing a mask) and eventually moved through to the blood letting room.

It was my favourite nurse. She made one hole, took three vials of blood for the three tests I need, and moved on to her next victim . . .

There is no bruise and there has been no phone call (which indicates I am within the target are)a. All is good and there should be no trouble with my methotrexate supply.

After that I went to visit my friends at the jewellers. I’ve not been very good at visiting lately and it was nice to see them. It’s not a long trip, and parking is easy, it’s just that over time I have developed a disinclination to travel or visit. A pendant in the window caught my eye and Julia is now wearing it as she prepares a salad for tea. Fortunately we are having pizza too, as salad by itself, of course, is not a meal.

The final part of my trip consisted of stopping for fuel as my warning light was one. I filled up. It’s the first time I’ve ever triggered the automatic cut off, as the pump cuts out automatically at £99. I had to start again, and got an extra £14 in.

It is not generally thought to be a good thing to fill a tank completely, as the extra weight can act against fuel economy, but I’m not keen on filling up more than I need to, and w also keen to see how much it took.

I am going to use it frugally.

I went for another bumblebee picture. I like bumblebees.

Why Bother Blogging? (Part 2)

Joking aside, (and I wasn’t entirely joking about my desire for fame and fortune), I needed the writing practice. My writing had come to a halt and my brief career as a poet had fizzled out. It wasn’t a concious decision, I had about a dozen poems published, I was just getting into a better class of magazine when I let it all go. It was a combination of children and poverty, as I recall. There just wasn’t enough time for everything and I spent the next eight years writing match reports for various junior rugby teams and hiring myself out as a jobbing gardener.

Then, while I was working on the farm with Julia and the Quercus group I decided it was time to start writing again. The blog was my first step back into regular writing. After two thousand posts and establishing a habit which I am seemingly unable to break, I think it’s safe to say I write regularly.

I also like the company. I know it’s only virtual company but that’s good enough for me. WordPress friends are better than flesh and blood friends as they don’t disturb you in the middle of doing things and they don’t come round and eat your biscuits.  They also let you blether on without telling you to shut up. This is a model of behaviour that Julia could do with adopting. In WP there is also a touch of the feeling you get when you look into people’s back gardens from the train. (Or is that just me?) I’m curious to the point of being nosey.

The other thing with WP friends is that I was till able to visit during lockdown.

Apart from a disturbance in my shopping habits, and a morbid fear of sniffling strangers, I hardly noticed any difference between lockdown and my normal life,  This, I feel, says nothing good about my normal life.

Blogging is also a reason to get up in the morning, go out, observe things and set targets. You can say this about many forms of writing, but if I hadn’t started blogging there’s a chance I wouldn’t be doing any other writing. It’s a chilling thought.

I wouldn’t be doing any photography either, because I started that to add photographs to the blog.

You frequently see people making the same point about writing haiku, and it’s true. If you are going to write a lot of Japanese style poetry of any type you need to keep looking out for details.

If you get into the habit of observing it becomes easier to see things and, this gives you more to write about so it’s a sort of virtuous circle. (Julia saw a weasel today in the Mencap Garden. A real one, that is, not a jumped up school caretaker or a cowardly manager. It must be hard being an animal when your name is used as a term of abuse.

It’s particularly hard on weasels, who are quite affable, and don’t really deserve the opprobrium they get. When you think of the personal habits of the stoat, it’s the stoat that should be the term of abuse. The word itself sounds more like a snarled insult too. Weasel is a bit of a woolly word.

You also learn a lot from blogging – particularly as you browse Wikipedia looking for links for the blog.

I’m sure it does other things too, like keeping my fingers flexible but I’m starting to tire now and it’s time to go and read my new book. It’s a Kindle book about how to be an autodidact, and before anyone asks, yes, it’s a Teach Yourself book…

I’m going to use the penny picture again to tie this to the Part 1 post. I’m not sure if I’ll use any others as it’s too much of a faff on the old editor.