Life goes on …

17576-Life-Goes-OnMonday 20th March, First day of Spring 2017

Spring …. the ambient temperature has dropped to a low and mizzle confronts my vision across the bay, the property opposite me suffers yet more scaffolding, it never stops, for a new build, it really is piss poor quality.

I seem to have let my home get into a disorganised category recently, to be honest, I am disgusted with myself, this is so unlike me. I have been easily distracted and with so many other things going on in front of us it would appear that shit has happened underfoot and only now I can see just how much there is, this is NOT good.

My health has taken on a new spin, not for the good either, breathlessness, water retention, malaise and given every chance I could sleep on a knife-edge for days. My GP suggested specialist blood tests to check my engine is running correctly and there are no drops in pressure in any of my cylinders, diagnostics reveal that there is a problem. Hence my appointment on Thursday for an echocardiogram, basically a scan. Inherently I already have a condition called AF (Arterial fibrillation) where my heart misses a beat (often) and has a mind of its own, even though its full of love, it appears to be not pumping the love enough!

I always thought that swollen feet, ankles and legs only happened to old people, suddenly, I am one of those old people …. You tend to forget just how lucky we may have been not to have started failing earlier, many of my contemporaries and school friends have long passed by. Suddenly this old vehicle is showing severe signs of breaking down, a few auxiliaries have been repaired, a titanium brace inserted, the fuel that runs around my arteries gets a daily top up of additives and now the bodywork is showing severe signs of wear, the gearbox is still active, but sadly the engine is failing, and fast.

Beginning of this year, I set upon a ten-year plan, just like a business plan, I have every intentions of keeping the doors open during that period, there may be a few days where I have to close early but unless bankruptcy comes quick without warning, aim and purpose will be to keep on trading .

I have a duty to be here for my bestie whilst he takes his own rugged path of recovery and better health, as much as I would love to, sadly I cannot commit to a new puppy or a rescue dog to add to our small canine family at the moment, but, never say never, ever.

Anyway, I cannot sit here maudling anymore, I have housework and shit to sort out.

Summer is around the corner ….. bring it on !

Playing “The best of” by LeAnn Rimes this morning.

No rest for the wicked !

Heres a short resume of this mornings activities ….

With full grumpy mode I pull the duvet back over my head and start to play hide & seek with Willow and Jack, they are NOT going to give up, fed up with my nonsense they start getting narky, a brief peek at the clock, the little hand points to nine and the big hand at a position twenty-five past, both canines know that this is not acceptable, breakfast for them has normally been consumed by the time nine a.m. has struck.

No sign of life from the master bedroom, just a gentle snore emanating from between the solid pine block and the architrave of the door frame, I shout out “GOOD MORNING” as I start the day with a vengeance, If, im up, then so is everyone else, flicking on the display cabinet light and the table lamp in the hall with as much noise as possible.

There are still dishes on the drainer from last eve, surprising just how cathartic it can be by putting away dried cutlery, as I aim each precision hewn item into its designated slot in the draw tidy, a sleepy friend puts his head around the kitchen door and grunts …. “feck off” and laughs as he heads to ablution central situated at the far end of the South wing, yet another crazy day at Rockhaven has begun. Even though it’s the weekend, and a once often routine of being sat face to television by ten o’clock for a live edition of Saturday Kitchen does not happen anymore, not ever since the format has changed, instead, we endure another hour of “The Big Bang Theory” which gets us laughing within seconds, even though most episodes have been seen by us often more than once.

Three dogs are now protesting with invisible banners and chanting obscenities under the guise of dog breath, by the smell, it must be the full unabridged works of satan. Risking life and limb I lower the bowls of doggy deliciousness into an area of no return and within less than a countdown half-minute, two of them finish on the dot together albeit a nanosecond apart.

Two freshly brewed individual coffee drippers are steeping, each with a pinch of sea-salt and our own personal gram measurements stand behind the warming mugs for five minutes like guards either side of a gateway. The microwave clock displays 09:55, by my timing and poured refreshment, we have exactly 90 seconds to get our asses in our seats …. “where’s my croissants” I shout, HURRY UP!!

The Hungryhouse advert appears on the television screen, its Ten a.m. and with a swift move of my forefinger I press the ‘pause’ button on the remote ….. surely you dont think im that callous by watching it without my bestie? ….. shame on you !


Who put the cannabis in the font.

(a small composition I had tucked away for a rainy day)

Just exactly, who placed the cannabis leaves in the font?

For quite sometime there has been a sweet smell emanating from the area of the baptismal font, of course the majority of people associated in this environment had no idea or had even noticed that there was a pungency loitering.

Were we, as such fine connoisseurs on this matter being paranoid? I don’t think so, but it would always seem strange that when the flower ladies are en masses just how bright and cheerful this hardy team of florists seem to be when creating their designs.

Are they responsible for this action, is it a sign from the great above or are they finally having a coffee and just chilling out in good company? Mind you, the contract cleaners are here often on their own, normally early, perhaps it is they?

I have visions of adult Brownies and Guides sat in a circle, cross-legged and passing a joint around. Each one telling a story they have all wanted to share but had never dare in ages, tightly slip lipping in hard, the burning of the leaves almost blistering their windpipe. Not wishing to exhale until the last possible moment and then only with a stream of fine thin smoke with the ecstatic volume of relief. Almost an oral and brain orgasm. A slight choke, the yearn to catch the reefer when it travels back around, each pair of buzzed eyes yearning for the head rush and euphoria that would make their body shudder and slightly convulse.

Who dares to whisper the aged mantra? ….. “Holy shit, this shit is good shit”

Being such super sleuths and very busy and nosey parkers we did a bit of digging, and the only viable thing we could come up with, was that a few weeks previous we had a HUGE christening, with quite a few dubious characters attending. Perhaps “they” had pangs of guilt and the only option available apart from being struck by lightning was to dispose of the remnants.

I am not pointing any fingers ….. but !


Wilder Minds


One of the main staples in my life is that of music, and as I have probably told you many times before, it will remain so. However, recently my listening spectrum has broadened and I now find myself enjoying a new genre.

Having never been into heavy rock music before, suddenly I am up to my neck in what is now known as Folk rock, Alternative rock, Art rock and Neofolk                                                 …. and guess what, I AM loving it.

I cannot wait until next month when we take delivery of our new car and able to blast out Mumford & Sons on the swanky upgraded sound system whilst I push “Brabinger” to his limits along a certain favoured stretch of the A38 near Plymouth. Goodness knows how im going to cope with an eight speed gearbox, all I can say is that I will be leaving that up to the mechanics of the beast whilst I keep my eyes peeled for the stray ecilops who patrol vigilantly like vermin along a sewer pipe.

Not being one to flount the law, but being honest, temptation is often only a fools decision away and in the perfunctory madness that I find myself being “ever so naughty”  I try to keep it brief. Infact it gives me great pleasure after an event to drop into a conversation when a certain someone else is driving …. “you will never guess what happened recently” OR “Parker was ever so naughty the other day”

A shifty, slightly miffed answer is replied, with implications of “Oh really, I wonder why that was”?

Not being one to ever kiss and tell I keep schtum!

Today is one of those days where I wish I had taken Parker and driven to the North coast to visit my specialist instead of relying on public transport. Why? you might ask!

I’m on the 9:12 to Exmouth, before my connection to Barnstaple, there are four carriages, it is not busy, my carriage was empty until a young lad boarded the train at Torre, he made a bee-line towards me and made a point of sitting directly in front, he was obviously up to no good and started to smoke dope.

Bit of a moral dilemma here me thinks, a) he really shouldn’t be smoking on board, b) he was obviously underage and c) he had that wild look which might invoke a situation. So, not wanting to be both Mr & Mrs Buzzkill at the same time and mention anything I decided to stay quiet, sit put and gently move away in a few minutes time.

I became so engrossed in the beauty of the landscape and the way the waves were crashing onto the shore that I became completely unaware how passive smoking can alter ones outlook on life on a grim day. …. 😝

Downside, trains are erratic and smell funny!   Upside, they are now using cannabis or something similar as air fresheners.

I may be home late!