DVT DAY 240

Tuesday and I am back, Yesterday was a crap day and I felt lousy despite a morning work meeting and an afternoon session on the exercise bike in the shed. A combination of disappointment, anger and general pissed offness with life but mostly myself. So this morning I woke expecting the same and was not disappointed. When I find this place I go to the shed and write which is exactly what I did this morning after an omelette breakfast. I wrote stuff to me and letters to others until I had no more to say. I went to the post office and sent my mail, the rest I disposed of. After lunch I Christmas shopped. I had hoped to make presents this year from my jewelry making kit but I find myself lacking in skills, the time to adequately develop them and crucially I am lacking in creativity at the moment. So I resort to plundering others creativity and skills and fulfilling my Christmas present needs. All is going well along with the odd diversion into moss killer and path clear chemicals, I am making progress. disturbingly the laptop is very good at filling forms,including one of my cards apart from the odd crucial bit of information. It makes impulse buying so much easier but then that is the sole function of the internet.

I go to the garage gym and prepare to row. A friend calls me and we talk for the first time in what feels a while. A good moment in my day. I row a slow half hour to help me think and work off some of my tetchiness, which I follow with a race against the machine to get rid of some of the anger that is still floating around inside. I crush the machine over a 1000 metre race. Eat my wake machine I am awesome.

I am back and ready for this lockdown now, I’ve reset, I am not even sure I give a toss who wins the USA presidential election, but of course I will if that arsehole Trump gets in again. They are both older than me, I’m not sure why I am hanging back. Tonight I do nothing but watch football, the Great British Bake Off and think about more Christmas present ideas and possible things to craft in wax.

Lockdown starts tomorrow at midnight, I intend to make this lockdown my most productive period of me centred activity and well being as possible.

A little bit of virus isn’t going to stop me being me!

DVT DAY 239

DVT DAYS 237 & 238

Saturday, regardless of the joys of having both my daughters at home from the weekend, and a long letter from a friend, the long shadow of Boris draped across the future, his voice of dithering doom that we were all going to be locked down from Thursday the 5th of November to the 2nd of December invaded our living room. This is what SAGE was saying was needed three to five weeks ago and only now do we do it. Time lag death is the cost, amongst other things. So amidst the smell of baking Christmas cakes and muffins I count the cost in lost time with friends, in contact that has gone, with options amputated and once again I feel robbed and constrained. I guess most people do except those that think its all a government charade, a medical conspiracy or that COVID just does not exist. All of which lead to that group of “fuck everyone” mindless twats who are too macho or thick to wear a mask or socially distance so that we all suffer. The type of brainless arse hole who travels across tiers so they can have access to a betting shop and beer. The up shot is that we all descend to the depths of restraint and constraint inflicted by the intellectual lowest common denominators in society. In short Saturday sucked. At least England won the six nations rugby competition. My day ended in the bath listening to Spotify meditation and yoga tracks punctuated by Kevin Bacon advertising G5 mobile phones on EE, so antithetical, and then the final chore of the day was to clear the kitchen and the debris of Christmas baking.

Sunday and the weekly weigh in. 94.8 kilos, about the same as last week, and it keeps me below being obese. A late bacon sandwich to get the day going. Time to hear Gove run off at the mouth and pontificate about the lockdown being capable of extension, now there’s a little ray of sunshine for you , before this lockdown even starts. An odious little man that always has to have something to say to satisfy his ego and reinforce his self perception of relevance. He isn’t. We wave my youngest daughter off loaded down with DVDs from our collection and some goodies. A quick dash to the garden centre to buy bulbs to plant new hope into the garden and home to watch the women’s cup final. By half time I am bored and start to write the blog and watch the football scores on my phone.

The only way I am going to survive this latest lockdown is to renew my creativity at work and at “play”. Its time to test Kae Tempest’s contention that it is our creativity that enables us to connect and I think connecting is going to be the key to this lockdown winter. I think it likely that some of my art and creativity will come into the warm from the shed. To start with there are Florentines to be made this evening as I listen to music through my blue tooth head phones.

Oh god there going into extra time in the women’s cup final, death where is they sting.

DVT DAY 236

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Friday, the day I atone for the bag of chocolate buttons I devoured yesterday. So I get up and get into my training gear before making myself a bacon bagel and coffee. Breakfast done I head to the shed and clamber aboard the exercise bike for an hours effort. I notice as I tread out the time on the bike that my garden is still producing flower. Little gems dotted around the garden or hanging in clusters from hardy bushes. Still no frogs to be seen and Cox and Pippin the spring time newts have now long gone to hibernate. Actually I do not recall seeing next doors cat, Bumblebee, for a long time. It may either flat beneath a cars wheels locally or curled up in front of a fire having decided to hibernate until there is nesting behaviour going on and the promise of fledging to capture. Today the hour passes quickly and I am soon mopping down the bike with antibacterial wipes and gathering up my tracksuit. I return to the house and have a coffee and a biscuit and then go off to the garage for more exercise. This time its the rower that I get on and set off for an half hour. Its hard work after the bike but I keep and even pace and ignore the sweat and the nag in my back. The minutes pass as I count off the percentages towards the finish and I am pleasantly surprised at getting through the 6 kilometre barrier, not something I was expecting so soon. I could not resist the photo opportunity.

Once I had caught my breath and wiped myself down I set about doing the exercise program that my eldest daughter has devised for me. Its a killer and I cheat, I cheat a lot but I do get some stuff done which bends me, stretches me and makes me feel where my body does not want to go. I am truly tired and head for the shower. I love the feeling of getting fresh and clean after exercise, it marks a readiness to get on with the day. In my case it was heading to the kitchen to make noodles and to sit on the sofa and recover from my mornings exertions. Noting on my way into the kitchen that my youngest daughter had arrived and settled at the kitchen table with her laptop, so pretty soon all four of us were laptopped in our corners of the house busily going about our cyber ways. A friend rang to chat and described how she is up to her eyes in creating new clothes and preparing for the fun of Halloween with her daughters tomorrow. Providing COVID is not prohibitive we hope to have coffee at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park next week. I put some bread together and prepared a curry for dinner. My youngest daughter delivered us our new Christmas bauble, something she could not resist when drawn towards Lewis’s Christmas decoration department. I love it, what else could be better in 2020 for all sorts of reasons on all sorts of levels. We will hang it on this years tree with great pride.

My curry went down well as did the surprise tiramisu (terror ma sue is my dyslexic version, thank heavens for spell check). Time to write the blog while watching An Extra Slice and looking forward to tomorrows day of rugby international. I still have to make up for my days indulgence this week so I will up early and depending on the weather will be either rowing in the relative comfort of the garage or braving the bike in the shed.

DVT DAY 235

Thursday, a grind of a day on the sofa, meeting after meeting and then the typing up of all the notes and ideas. The night is football sofa time. I am bored with my self and devour a bag of chocolate buttons vowing to exercise some time soon. The last time I felt like this I ended up with a baseball bat and becoming an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church Monastery, I even got an honour doctorate of divinity out of it.

I’ve got 11 days to memorise my fifteen minutes of debate opener prior to a conference on line. Having watched The Rap Game UK last night I am tempted to drop it in bars and lay it on them. However given my appalling dyslexic memory I doubt I would get through the first bar without weird alternative lyrics spilling out. So its an idea I might as well drop the mic on now. Fierce eh! I did have a favourite, Shogun, an angry young scots guy who was up front with everything, I just admired his skills. Not for everyone but I could not do it.

Told you it wasn’t for everyone but got to admire his energy and spirit.

DVT DAYS 233 & 234

Tuesday and what a pain in the arse it was for a lot of the time, basically because the IT system at the Royal College of Psychiatrist’s new security protocols are faulty. So for most of the day I kept getting the message that my machine had been deleted from the system. Eventually a very patient and kind man from the IT help desk rescued me and between us we managed to get my machine undeleted and up to speed again. I did manage to get a zoom call session in with my manager at the RCP, which was useful. I was so wrung out by the end of the day wrestling with the IT that I had no desire to do any work whatsoever, so I didn’t. I was at the end of a darkening autumn afternoon and frankly could not give a toss about enabling environments or helping the world be a better place. So I baked ginger and almond Florentines from Nadia Hussain’s BBC recipe. My first attempt, which went okayish, but I think I will adapt them to include glace cherries and sultanas, a more traditional recipe.

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My evening consisted of watching Liverpool win whilst keeping an eye on Japanese week on The Great British Bake Off and devouring my favourite tune pasta dish. Of course I had to try the Florentines with a coffee and being sweet toothed me I end up eating at least four of the chocolate and sugar laden little beauty’s. Pleasant enough but immediately followed by the guilt of knowing that sugar feeds my cancer and I wonder why I have this sudden urge to bake stuff, all the things that are not good for me in a very real sense. I can’t be that fed up with COVID, can I?

Once everyone has gone to bed I curl up on the sofa, put the fire on and settle down to read my new book that arrived today. On Connection by Kae Tempest, one of my favourite poets and play writer. Its her COVID contribution and is an extended essay on creativity and connecting to people, typically lyrical, raw and honest. I sit and read till I have finished the book, stare into space for a while thinking about friends and what I have in hand to create and go to bed with a head full of “stuff”.

Wednesday, bins will be collected, the Hoover is being used followed by the sound of office chatter, I think about staying in bed but the thought of bacon bagels is overwhelming and I need coffee. I’ve decide to spend the day writing my contribution to a debate I am taking part in at a conference in November. I have fifteen minutes to fill and I’ve read five books in preparation, that feels like over kill, if I don’t write it now it will just become impossible, I’ve got so much new material and ideas that its going to take time to edit it down and make it cogent. The irony is that I am on the wrong side of the argument, I’m hoping my opponent is dazzling and persuasive enough to win the vote, however in the spirit of fair play I am going to give him a run for his money. So I am off to the shed to write my notes and to think. My reading last night has left me churned and in my head I carry the section that noted that the difference between a poet and those that think they could be a poet is that the poet has finished work. It is the creativity that leads to the work: the writer, the work, the reader, then there is the possibility of connection.

I doubt I will add more today.

There is work to be done.

DVT DAY 232

Monday, time to catch up with my letter writing, which is way behind. So I cook a quick egg roll breakfast and head for the shed. For the next few hours I write letters to all those good people who have written to me over the past two or three weeks. The shed is warm and dry and I listen to the rain beating on the roof and watch for our wet and hungry squirrel. Lunchtime arrives and I go inside and wonder why the laundry area is steamed up, it turns out that my eldest has manged to leave the shower on all night, no wonder we ran out of hot water this morning. I guess that’s family living for you.

A lunch of noodles and then I am back in the shed to finish the letters. For some reason I could not get my seal ring to work properly on some of the letters, I guess it will reman a mystery. I continue on until I realise its getting close to post box collection time, so I pull on jeans and take the postal walk. Back home I find a parcel for me, its my duck down winter jacket. Its just warm and snug and now hanging waiting for an appropriate moment for its first run out. I seem to be focussing on being warm this winter. The urge to hibernate is strong.

So its back to the shed to climb aboard the exercise bike and try and pedal the stiffness out of my thighs after yesterdays exploits in the garage gym. As I pedalled away hoping to make the full hour the rain teamed down and I began to realise that it was getting dark, this genius forgot the clocks went back on Saturday, and of course its getting dark. By the time the hours up its dark. I pack up the shed and head for the house having to return in the dark once I pull the power plug to the shed. So I settle down to write the blog and eat tea before having my thickness confirmed by watching Only Connect and not being able to get a single answer. The saving grace is that it is hosted by my favourite poker player. Tomorrow is back to the work a day world of enabling environment, supervision and developing tools. Rumbling away in the back ground is the need to write my part of the debate to take place in November.

DVT DAYS 230 & 231

Saturday and a day of technological challenge. My partner and I visited her mother to install a new cordless phone. This particular model has a shielding facility, which of course got labeled a “fuck off button” in my mind. But it was what this person was looking for as she wanted to be able to avoid repeated nuisance calls from cold callers and other such unwanted folk. Of course such advances in technology demand greater set up skills not to mention the reentry of all the stored telephone numbers in the directory. I discovered just how many people a 92 year old can know and how wide a support network of services can be. In some senses the mechanical re entry of numbers was easy, it was the setting up of the “fuck off button” that took the time. The other impediment was sorting out the spaghetti junction of wires that fed the phone, printer, home alarm, personal alarm and other bits and pieces behind the computer desk that housed the extension sockets that everything was plugged into. I had to label the plugs to make sure everything was plugged in and that the extraneous wires and plugs I removed really were redundant. In the end I was ringing the number from my mobile and going through the vetted call procedure. Then it was a case of putting together an impromptu seminar on the usage of the new system. So there we were ringing the number on my mobile with the speaker on so that she could hear what people ring her would hear and then listening to what her phone was saying to the caller. We ran through it a couple of times and hopefully she got the hang of it.

Home to watch the rugby and the days football, my team losing. During this we discovered that our planned break in December had been cancelled due to COVID restrictions. We immediately looked for a replacement and found one close by, which has alpacas on site, who could ask for anything better. So between going to Longleat and some night illuminated gardens we can spend some birthday time feeding the alpacas.

Sunday, clocks gone back, so this is winter. A late breakfast and a general organisation of the place and it is soon time for me to be worked over by my weightlifting, personal trainer daughter. We meet in the garage gym and she puts me through some test exercises as she assesses my flexibility, strength and general ability. I end up doing lots of things I would not normally do and feel the stretches and the twinges in bits of my body I do not usually use much. By the time we finish I know I have been well worked an also know that the final programme is going to push me. I retreat to the lounge and indulge in a toasted tea cake as I unwind and relax as the Scottish women draw with France at rugby. Hamilton of course wins another grand prix as I update the Tesco order and catch up with the blog.

I was thinking this morning about the COVID child hunger that is going on and wondering what the Labour party that my parents subscribed to would have done in response to hungry children. The Labour party of old, along with the trade unions, would have been active in their communities organising food for the children and the poorer families. The party of old would have looked after their own, the working classes that were bearing the brunt of a society that view them as profit making units. Where is that “on the street”, response, the practical communal help to support comrades in the struggle. All I hear is fine words and political posturing by the politicians, how do they think they are going to win back the trust of the working class if they do not get off their arses and do something that their people would understand and know they were being heard and responded to. Who knows they may get there at some point.

STOP PRESS: Official Weigh In: 94.4 kilos, officially out of Obese and into Over Weight again. Progress!

DVT DAY 229

Friday: a day of work telephone calls and meetings. I venture out to seek Krona and get told they are not in stock and there is no way of knowing when more will be ordered. Apparently there is no demand apart from me, once again Sainsburys fail, I’m so glad we moved to Tesco. The irony is that Sainsbury’s sent me an email telling me they missed me. Meaning of course they miss my money. No Krona, none of my money will pass their grubby vault’s portal.

I feel that I have been in front of a screen most of the day, which I guess is not an unusual experience for lots of people. As things drag out it cuts into my opportunities to train so I find myself post dinner wondering if I’m going to get into the garage gym, especially when Scotland’s rugby match against Georgia is on TV tonight. I either will or wont, either way I am not going to beat myself up, life’s too short.

Its Christmas that swims to the top of the houses agenda as packages appear and get squirrelled away. We have our stock of Christmas cards and will soon sit down and write them. Folk could be getting early November cards. Next weekend is Christmas cake making weekend and there will be more scouring of shops and internet sites for inspiration. Its all part of the move to hibernate as the clocks go back this weekend. I think we are turning squirrel.

DVT DAY 218

Its easy not to bother, to have another cup of coffee and not do it. And so the distance grows. Winter COVID will make strangers of us all if we are not as careful of our friends as we are of ourselves in this time of isolation, fear and uncertainty. From living to survival in one easy virus. Even the previously easy solutions become risk laden and so we are entranced into doing nothing. Dangerously we stop making the effort and then we begin to think no one cares enough to respond or make the effort. It is this that will eat away at our being and undermine our friendships, affections and loves. It becomes a “the sun is shining but I cannot be bothered” syndrome and soon winter is upon us and we will huddle like squirrels in drays waiting for spring, but in our case waiting for someone else to be spring for us. So today I shall make the effort, write the letters, make the calls, persist and knock once more on the doors of friendship, family and loved ones just to say hello and ask if they can come out to play in the autumn leafs before winter truly arrives.

And if you are reading this and thinking the bugger has not written, phoned, hailed me then do something about, spend a stamp, make a call, you never know the response might surprise you. It might surprise me to.

I now go to mount my exercise bike and continue the fight as I see the postman pass my door empty handed. Later I will talk to others in an open forum full of strangers and people I have never been in the room with and wonder why I do not do this with those I have. Another leaf that falls in autumn before the trees are laid bare in winter. I perhaps need to be more creative but then I need to take care that this is not merely a distraction from what this virus is really robbing me of, and that is more difficult to face. Which reminds me I have two letters to reply to and a coffee ZOOM in the diary, I am perhaps more blessed than most but still need to remind myself to pay attention and make the effort.

In the middle of writing up my forum notes I noticed the sun glinting off my coke can onto the television and where it fell at the right angle it produced rainbows. I took some time to play.

My evening was full of football and watching Leicester win in the Europa League and watching a film about an ex Olympic gold medalist turned missionary in Japan having a crap time in a Japanese camp in the war. Now that’s multitasking when you throw in finishing the blog for the day as well.