Monday and its been a short night after my staying up late to watch the final of the Young Musician of the Year. Despite my late night I get up early and wait for my partner to be ready to go to the gym. We go to the gym where my partner goes to the gym floor and stay in the lounge to eat bacon rolls and drink fruit tea. I occupy myself by scribbling odd notes and poems and generally wandering around my mind.

418
Dylan Thomas
staggers out
from a days 
labour.
"Three words"
he mutters.
That's one
"a black bat,
Can't help feeling
"the lazy bastard"
could have managed 
more.

                                                                          418 21st October 2024.

 

Not a masterpiece but just something that dropped by. Eventually my partner finishes her session and I drive her to one of our local garden centres for lunch. It is a simple lunch which when done with sees us drive home where I have the fun of putting together my new toy, a brand new spanking power washer. It looks like fun and with luck I might get a go at it on Wednesday when I go to my partner’s mother to clear the moss off her patio.

With the toy playing done I get ready to train. I start tired and just get more tired. Its a forty five minute session and at the end I have rowed the worst I have done since starting to train again. I guess this just goes to show that I cannot spend spoons at both ends of the day and expect to be able to perform up to standard.

I record the session and change out of my training gear before beginning to draft the blog. I tap away while yesterdays one pot bubbles away until I think its safe enough to eat. There is no sport to watch tonight so I shall have time to edit the Tesco order and then have an early night. I managed to miss two calls from a friend today which was very irritating so hopefully I will be luckier tomorrow especially as the Americans are supposed to be ringing me to complete the publication of my third The Cancer Years collection, subtitled Breathless.