Thursday and it starts with a fried egg sandwich, coffee and meds. After a bit of tidying I retreat to the Shed and set about my latest project of trying to make wooden moulds for wax reduction jewellery. This means a lot of new skill acquisition, experimentation, practice and trail and error and new tools to master. The blow torch arrives tomorrow. So there is a transformation from my writing space to my work bench.

I spend all morning in the Shed learning the early stages of how to chisel a design into a piece of wood. Its a steep learning curve especially the feel of the tools against the wood, however time flies. The first thing I am aware of is my partner giving me a newspaper and asking me if I checked the bread before I made my fried egg sandwich this morning. I obviously looked quizzical as it was then explained to me that the loaf had to be thrown away as it had gone green.

A bit more work and then I feed the hedgehog, get my washing in and change in order to train. I really do not feel like it today but having not trained yesterday I need to push through. I get into the garage and set the rower up for a 45 minute session. The aim of this session is to get to the end in reasonable shape and not pass blood afterwards. It goes slow and controlled and as a session it is what is needed.

I give myself a bit of recover time and then change into some travel clothes as I am going to give my eldest a lift to her circus skills sessions. I drop her off and return home to a fish cake tea and begin the blog as the TV sows the the opening of the Commonwealth Games. A full Brumie extravaganza of post industrial imperialism. Tomorrow I shall train again and once again reject the urgent referral by my GP to the urology department. Clearly my GP is either ignoring or has not seen the advice from my oncologist. The oncologist is clear that urology have nothing to offer me in this situation. The last thing I want is to be is stuck in the middle of a doctors pissing contest. Mind you my diagnosis is now, and I quote, “Metastatic castration-resistant prostate carcinoma”, I’m not sure I’m not just a bit pleased to be “castration resistant”.

Wednesday and its my eldest daughters birthday so after a quick shower and breakfast, meds included, we go off to our local Bird Garden. So we got to know some new friends, drink, eat and chat about PhD stuff. So without any more to do here are a few of the birds we saw or met.

Its a matter of timing with the bird garden. Get them early and they will accept food from your hand and some will seek to play or walk all over you but when it gets full later on they are full of food and do not want to play, just sleep. We got our timing right so had ample time to feed and play. When they had had enough and the place was getting full we decided to eat and chat. We spent several hours there before walking back home, I did remember to book the cars in for their MOTs.

Once home it was time to clear the kitchen and feed the hedgehog before going to a local restaurant to have a birthday meal. An Italian meal that was extremely tasty and gave me the opportunity to have one of my favourite deserts, affogato, a delicious combination of a shot of expresso to pour over ice cream. A super combination. We return home to the traditional card and present opening followed up with the indulgence of a very chocolatey birthday cake. I sit and watch Germany beat France to become England’s opponents on Sunday. I return to the blog and then prepare for tomorrow. Its been a good day with time to chat with my eldest daughter and to eat out as a family. Meds and bed.

Tuesday and I am awake early, or at least for me, and I am soon downstairs and breakfasted. Meds obviously get downed as well. I go to the Shed early and message friends, write a brief poem and have a general tidy up of the Shed. I have some new ink and other craft stuff arriving as I am exploring how to extend some of my existing interests. I have tried to use my wax reduction jewellery casting kit but only ever succeeded in making a single pedant for me. My Back Bone pendant which I wear as a reminder and a motivator to keep training. Rather than keep trying to work in the wax directly I am going to try and carve my own moulds in bassa wood and melt the wax into them myself and then smooth and finish them before sending to be cast. That’s the plan and if it works then there will be some weird Christmas presents this year.

I wander over to the post box and return to start the draft of the blog. Its a bit of a distraction as I know the next real thing to be doing is training, that and wrap my eldest daughters birthday presents, which is tomorrow. I do some covert wrapping and then I head for the garage and the rower. I strap in and set off with the aim of doing better than yesterday. I’m going well, possibly a bit too well when I get a call on my pods, so I slow to the equivalent of a rowing jog and chat to a friend who is dealing with a tyre with a nail in it. On arrival at the tyre centre we say farewell and I get back to the hard push of the session. I get to the end beating yesterdays distance and calories burnt, so I am very pleased.

I squeeze out of my sweaty training gear and relax over a dish of chicken soup and update the blog draft. By the time this has done I have properly cooled down. What is not so good is that I have a reoccurrence of temporarily passing some blood in my urine, so I need to hydrate and lower the intensity of the next couple of sessions. I move on to my afternoon, a trip to the shop and continued birthday preparations. I also have from Amazon a package with my new project materials, so they need to be integrated in to my art gear and then over the coming days I can get started. If this phase works and works to my satisfaction I will need to invest in a culinary blow torch next month. I put the bin out for the week and then I am in the Shed doing the crossword. The garden guy turns up unexpectedly so I break off and make him coffee. He sets to and I pay him, returning to my crossword.

The evening starts with dinner and some NCIS before England women take on Sweden in the semi finals of the Euro football championship. England 4 -Sweden 0 so Sunday afternoon is taken care of. For now its an early night in readiness for my eldest daughters birthday tomorrow.

Monday, and I wake to my youngest daughter still being with us. We have coffee and breakfast as she prepares to return home. I wave her off at about 10 o ‘clock and set about getting ready to train. After doing some chores I go to the garage and strap into the rower. No mucking about, this is resurrection Monday so its going to be an hour at my normal resistance level. My oncologist commented that once you stop exercising how difficult it is to get back to it. He was right and I am furious that I have let myself go and put the weight on. It is true that I have had COVID, a UTI and a kidney infection in the last 66 days so I am probably fortunate that I was as fit as I was prior to those events, however the weight has piled on and that was not helped by my sweet tooth. So strapped in I set off. An hour later I have enough left in me to sprint the last two minutes. This is a good start to my renewal.

As I row I am able to reflect on where and why I am at the moment. I’ve mentioned already how angry I am with myself for letting myself go despite the illnesses but all I can do is go from where I am. Basically that means training regularly and controlling what goes in my mouth and the amounts of it. On the face of it that should be simple but it means confronting my habits and the internal dialogue that goes with all of that. At the end of the day it comes down to an act of will.

My other thoughts whilst grinding out my hour was about what having really retired actually means. The loss is the work environment with all the people I used to interact with on an almost daily basis. This is highlighted by the fact that I wake most mornings to the sound of my partner talking to work colleagues over the internet as part of her working from home. I makes me realise that I need to make sure I put effort to keep my relationships with family, friends and old colleagues. I need to find new ways to keep communications going and to go on building relational histories with people. I know that this will be different for different people but I need to attend to this or they will die. I remember watching a farming programme in which a 90 year old guy explained why he still got up early everyday to get involved in the family farm. He had observed how so many people stop and just stare or watch the world, in his words “people waiting to die”. I think he was right, it is an insidious peril that awaits the retired as it is tempting to become someone in the world not of it, and to wait passively for it all to come to an end. I found myself actively wanting to be 75, one year at a time will do me with my condition. Every year is a victory. For me to get there I need to work not only on being the poetry coyote and being fit but also on the quality of the people in my life. I am not sure how I am going to do this yet, I am sure there is a self help book out there somewhere, although if I am lucky I will be spared that, so some of you might experience my efforts at this, so bear with me.

Training and reflection over I change and make myself lunch, yesterdays excess pie filling, and watch the last of the World Athletics Championships on TV, only to be interrupted by Amazon delivering and then close on their heels, Tesco. So there is food to eat and things to be doing in the afternoon, which starts with drafting the blog. The evening is taken with entertaining a visiting friend of my partner and catching up with Lucifer. Tomorrow’s priority is training, writing and thinking.

Sunday, Coffee, Croissants and failed pie making. A day of kitchen chemistry which like so many experiments look nothing like the picture. The up side is that I got a kitchen to myself and more time with my family. So we eat, talk and while away time together, in the case of my partner and youngest daughter they get to go shopping and browsing for hours. We eat dinner together, settle down for an evening of TV and then bed. Achievements of the day, fed the hedgehog, booked a weeks holiday, topped up the bird/squirrel feeders and draft the blog. Tomorrow I start again.

Saturday and an early morning drink and chat with my youngest and then its time to go shopping for food at the local garden centre. I take a picture of some more flowers that have come out and providing food for the pollinators.

We decide to treat ourselves to scones and a drink before shopping for cards, bowls and veg. More convivial conversation and then onto the shopping. With our goodies stowed we go home where my partner an youngest daughter set about throwing out clothes and organising the wardrobes. I go shopping again for the ingredients of a chicken and brie pie for tomorrow. Its cranberries and pink pepper corns I am primarily look for. So a quick trip to Sainsburys and I find my resources easily. Home and world athletics for a while until I cannot avoid the shame of training any longer. I change and I am so irritated with myself that I decide to go for a full hour session. I have not done a full hour for 66 days and I cannot be afraid of it any more, what will be will be. So I get in to the garage, strap myself in and set out. The intention is just to complete the hour. The result is good for a first time after two months.

I change and recover with a bit of Ninja Turtles and then eat tea with the family. There is just time to feed and water the hedgehog before settling down to watch the final football quarter final and some more athletics. The 100 meter hurdlers fall like nine pins. I move onto the football and sink into the evening and draft the blog along the way. I am interested to see how my body responds tonight.

Friday and I get up for breakfast feeling in “to do” list mode. No sooner than I have finished breakfast than a friend rings on her way to Reiki. We chat about the coming weeks and the school holidays and how that is planned to go. Our conversation comes to an end as my friend reaches her destination and I set about my life admin to do list. It’s one of those lists that is all about paying ones way. Top of the list was settling my bill with the tax man for this years interim payment. This was a straight forward transaction through my bank and then it was onto the car tax. This too was easy via the website. Next came the RAC membership. My quote to renew appeared way to high so I got a quite from Green Flag. I was dumbstruck by the difference. I ring the RAC and tell them that I can get the same deal from Green Flag at a small fraction of their quote and that I am considering switching. I get put through to a person who tries to explain why my premium would be so high, apparently I am on an old contract but I can have a new that does the same at over £165 less. I go for that as it means both I and my partner are covered for any car. I am pleased with my mornings work. My partner actually goes out to her work place and I hang my washing out and tidy the house before lunch. I notice there are some new things in the garden, some new lilies have come out and for some strange reason corn appears to be growing in one of the flower beds.

My afternoon sees me in the Shed writing letters with my new feather pen, which is interrupted by the arrival of my youngest daughter. We sit on the swing seat and chat about how things are and catch up on each others news. She shares her Glastonbury pictures and I share our holiday experience. We are just about through our coffee when my partner returns. I leave them to chat and return to the Shed to finish my letters and then pop across to the post box. By the time I have returned and fed the hedgehog my eldest daughter has returned from work. We sit and chat, I get my washing in, and we decide on an Indian take away for our tea. So in due course I have the pleasure of sitting round the table with my nuclear family and having a meal.

The evening is full of women’s football, chocolate provided by my youngest and then catching up with drafting the blog. I’m itchy inside, that itchiness that comes with a sense of disappointment in the self, the self that has found a way of not training today.

Thursday and I wake late with a growing sense of heart sink as remember todays task to sort the failed lighting circuit. So I have to say I do not bounce out of bed enthusiastically but I do make the effort to have a non fried breakfast of muesli and coffee. This morning is hard going as I listen to my partner doing work “chitter chatter” on Teams as she works out of the office. I gather up my will along side the tools I will need and start the process of sorting the problem. I take out every bulb on the specific lighting circuit and then make sure all the light switches are in the off position. I flick the circuit breaker on the board but it will not reset. I am momentarily taken aback and sit and have a think. I remember that the garage light is controlled by two switches so I go back to the garage and switch the light switch to the opposite position. Back at the circuit board I try to reset again. Bingo it stays in position and does not trip. So begins the tentative replacement of the bulbs and tubes one by one. Every time I add a new bulb I test to see if it lights up. Slowly but surely all the bulbs go back into place and work. I replace one LED that I am suspicious of adn does not match the others in the same array. Finally they are all back and all work without the circuit breaker tripping. I’ve done it, go me, I am a hero especially as the electrician wanted £65 to come out and £45 an hour thereafter.

I pack my tools away and have lunch during which the two new inspection lamps I ordered arrive. If the problem ever arises again and is not so easy to solve I can now light all he areas using mains powered inspection lamps. I deparcel them, fit them with bulbs and then add them to my tool board in the garage. I am feeling pleased with myself and my mood has lifted. I watch a session of the world athletics and feeling guilty at not having trained for 15 days, (7 of which where holiday) I get changed and make my way to the rower in the garage. Always hard to restart but today has to be the day to get back to the battle and to take up the regime of self care and fitness.

I am disappointed not to make 7K but that will come. Crucially I have burnt calories. I change and start to draft the blog before tea. The evening will see my partner have her singing lesson after sometime or not depending if her teacher bails again and I will watch another football quarter final. The hedgehog will be fed of course. Its time to get back to to a rhythm and to get back on track to take my transition forward.

Wednesday and I am up to shower before going to have my feet coddled at the chiropodists. Before I can get underway I discover there is no power as I try to dry my hair. I check the fuse board and try a reset but with no success. Time marches on and I have to leave to get to the chiropodist. Sods law: the road I need to drive down to get out of the village is closed. The upshot is I get to my appointment slightly late. Its nice to sit back and let my self be tended to especially my feet which, although adequately self managed, are never quite so perfect after they have been done professionally. My chiropodist is a lively, chatty person who is decidedly upbeat. Today we chatted about there father’s funeral, which is tomorrow. It was strangely therapeutic discussing how it is good to celebrate peoples lives and how people find out all sorts of interesting things out about people at funerals and wakes. Apparently you can do “pick up and go” as an alternative to a funeral. We agreed that a funereal was more seemly and humane. So I end up with very happy feet, pay happily and wish my chiropodist a “as good as it can be” funereal for the next day.

I get home and cook a fried egg sandwich, drink coffee and take my meds. My jab site from Monday is still sore but I have stopped the paracetamol as it seems self indulgent not to deal with the discomfort without pain killers. Then its full speed ahead to solve my lighting circuit problem. I check the fuse in the shower light that controls the shower fan. I change the starter in the garage light and check all the bulbs. I take the shower light apart and find the securing screws falling out, so replace them and fit a new tube. The light switch plates are unscrewed and connections checked and tightened. I come to the end of my competency envelope. I check the board again but the fuse switch immediately flips to off or causes one of the protected circuits to trip. So we have power through out and lights in the main house but no lights in the extension. Our kitchen is now lit by a mains inspection lamp, with more on the way. I’ve messaged a local electrician and await a response.

My partner returns from visiting her mother with her brother and gives me a birthday present from her brother and my nieces. An unexpected pleasure at the end of a period of fruitless toil. To my delight it is a book on Calligraphy and a pen with nibs and ink. The book is tremendous as it is an instruction book on how to produce different styles of writing. I am really chuffed with it and look forward to start using it.

My final act of the working day, which is what it feels like, is to contact an electrician to get a quote and a date for the work to be done. The evening beckons and with it the England vs Spain quarter final in the euro women’s football competition. I feel an early night coming on and a chance to read some more of my current book. I had a chat with a friend today who suggested that swimming may be the way to train without putting to much strain on my system. Its a good idea and I am contemplating finding my way back to the gym.

Monday and its the start of the heatwave. Its hot, very hot even at 8:30 in the morning as I walk down to my GP to get my 28 day jab. As usual its an unpleasant experience and I walk away with a lump in my gut that is going to get sore over the net two or three days. I go home, have toast and then adopt a Vampire life style. I live behind closed curtains and take a call from a friend who is at Halfords having roof rails attached to her car. We chat about surviving the heat and how much we can manage in it, along with what has to be done. Holiday preparations are going on and occupy us both. After the call I hunker down and watch TV, athletics, The Magicians and Lucifer. I drink water, eat lightly and towel myself down. This is how my day is spent in total until almost midnight when I venture out to feed the hedge hog and set the dishwasher going.

I did do one thing which fed me and that was read the latest edition of the Poetry Review and the Foyles Young Poets of the Year Anthology that came with the Review. The young poets were between 12 adn 17 years old and to be honest I found them more interesting than the adult stuff in the Review. This was for a couple of reasons. Firstly I was intrigued by the content warnings on some of the poems and secondly I liked the rawness of some of them. I am taking a risk and including the one that took my eye most, which probably says more about me than the anthology, but it is as it is.

Tuesday, surprise surprise its very hot very early after a sticky and hot night. I am aware that my jab site from yesterday is sore and makes moving about painful. It will pass and the paracetamol will take the edge off. As I get up I immediately adopt Vampire mode and start my day at a snails pace to include a fried egg sandwich breakfast and a blog drafting catch up session. All I will mange today is feeding the hedgehog, watching the TV and read a bit whilst promising myself to enjoy the thunderstorms tomorrow. In fact I manage to write and post a letter and wash out my ink wells. So roll on tomorrow.