Sunday, 9 April 2017

A short break will follow.

I'm off to Corfu, Greece for six days tomorrow. I just had to find the air fare and enough small change to buy food and wine. I'll be sleeping on a small yacht and will get a few days sailing. Which I've never done before. Banging my head on various bits of boat and being seasick. Both of which without boasting, I have done before and am rather good at. I shall be packing my little watercolour set, a little book of watercolour paper and my new brushes. I haven't told many people I'm going as they'll be dreading my little watercolour postcard sploge being pushed through their letterbox.Then, because they're friends or family. They'll feel obliged to stick it on the mantle or fridge. I'd rather it be a surprise. No point in upsetting them yet. This time round I might sign it "Spanner 59and a half " and it can compete for space on the fridge door next to the more revered work of their grandchildren.
I saw a balloon sail by yesterday, here in sunny Kent. Luckily for you I didn't have my paints only a camera.

Onwards and upwards in the pursuit of fulfilment :)))

Thursday, 6 April 2017

Two weeks ago.

Coincidentally both Joy and Karen only live a few miles from my daughter Where I've been working or more precisely slaving of late. You see Dads are cheaper than builders and you can moan at them constantly, unlike the builders, who will strut off and won't come back for a few days until you've learned your lesson and buy chocolate biscuits to go with their tea. So after a day of no chocolate covered baked treats to go with my tea and being moaned at , I smartened myself up and headed off to the agreed destination.
I parked, locked the car and had just enough time to sucked the life out of a mint from the pack in my pocket, as I walked up to the local theatre. It has a coffee bar for those not interested in the Arts but instead need somewhere to go if it rains or they're meeting ex lovers after many years have past. 
As I climbed the steps I started to feel nervous. Was this a good idea, would it have been best to just leave things as they were, should I make my escape now? Before I could turn and run there was a, "Hey wait for me." It was Joy. Now what? a hug, handshake or hand over my passport to prove who I was. I managed a feeble "Oh hello, how are you?" "OK thanks" as she swept past. Maybe she's a little nervous too I thought or maybe she's building up for the big public slapping she's going to give me once inside. We join the queue in the coffee bar, I tried to remember the moves I'd been taught in Karate to fend off furious ex girlfriends armed with cafeteria trays. "One tea, one flat white please." We sit down and things are a little frosty. Way back then, before mobile phones and CD's. Yes it's really been that long. Joy could be a little quite and shy, especial with strangers around but I'd temporally forgotten this and was just keeping an eye out for sharp objects within her reach. We awkwardly manoeuvred around the usual.
"Did you have to come far?" "No."
"Was your journey ok?" "Yes."
"Are you sure you don't want cake to go with your tea?" "No, I don't"
Fortunately her sister and Terry arrived before the uneasy silence did. Now Karen takes talking as seriously as Usain Bolt takes the 100 metres and probably has a bigger trophy cabinet. So for the next 45 minutes things moved briskly. She occasionally asks Terry to confirm or share something with us and he usually manages two or three words before Karen finished his sentences. So no change after thirty odd years there then. In fact they hadn't changed, the three of them were almost the same as they were all those years ago. A little older round the eyes and Terry's ponytail was now grey (did he keep that just to make me jealous?) but other than that exactly the same. Karen and Terry left after about an hour. With the usual exchange of "Lets do this again, it was really fun." Terry had accepted he wasn't going to get a word in, so nodded, smiled alot and was probably wondering if Karen would ever be struck down with a severe case of laryngitis at some point in the near future and allow him the luxury to hold court and tell all of his near silent years spent with the lovely but never quite Karen.
Joy and I moved to the bar downstairs. Things were easier now. We both swapped stories. Joy about her various jobs. She had worked in fashion her whole career (if I haven't already said. We met while at Art College(s) and clever thing that she was/is stuck with it, unlike you author) so lots of travel. She updated me on friends back then and how they are doing. Most of them I'm happy to write are doing ok. She had no partner or children so I told her about my dysfunctional marriage and  dysfunctional kids. The weird bunch of jobs I'd had, primarily to pay the bills and keep the little ones in Disney videos. I think that made her feel better.
It was strange, sitting opposite someone who had been the first person I had consciously fallen in love with, who looked almost exactly the same. Had the same mannerisms and same kooky fashion sense. Talking to me as if a few weeks had past and not closer to four decades. Our time was over, I offered her a lift home but kept quite about the mints. She accepted and probably wondered if I had any mints. Driving or being driven is a good place to be when talking about delicate issues. You're close together but not looking at each other. Ones concentrating on driving while the other is trying to work out the odds on whether they'll survive the journey. I apologised to Joy for being such a twat all those years ago and she graciously said maybe she could of worked a little harder at the relationship and we should have talked things though more. Overal though it was a happy time for her. We swap phone numbers and agree to meet up again soon, this time without Karen and Terry. As I'm driving I get a text thanking me for a nice evening and hoping I get home safely. I still think I made the right decision not to mention the mints though.

Onwards and upwards, in pursuit of fulfilment :-)))

Ps we've exchanged a few texts over the last week and plan another tea, flat white and no cake very soon.

Sunday, 2 April 2017

Six years ago.

Before I tell you what happened six years ago I need to go back a little further. I've kept in touch with my school friend Sue for years. There have been gaps but outside of my family she's the one person I've know longest. I've known her husband almost as long. Vic is loud and funny. A hard working "working class" boy from North London. He's smart and reasoned and stands up for himself. Something I don't always do and I so admire him for that. Being married to Sue though, means you have to be. She takes no prisoners. About eight or nine years ago Vic admitted he was an alcoholic. He'd spent all their savings betting on horses. Manly because he was drunk at the time and when not sloshed, in a vain bid to recover his losses. Sue phoned me up and gave me a blow by blow account. At the end of the call I asked her was she going to kick him out. There was a pause and then she said, "Don't be so f##king stupid, I love him." To this day it's probably the nicest most powerful way anybody has declared their love for someone that I've ever heard.
Over the coming months I spent some time with Vic and he told me how he was doing, his AA meetings, the characters there and how AA works. One of the steps. Apologising to those close to you, about the hurt you've brought them, stuck with me. I wondered who I would apologise to. Two people came to mind. A boy called Mohinder, who I wasn't very nice to at school and Joy. My first long term girlfriend. We went out for over three years. She loved me and I her, deeply. At one stage it looked as if we'd marry but things didn't work out that way and eventually I ended it. Very cruelly as well. I don't and didn't regret the ending but I've always deeply regretted how horrible I made that ending.  
A little over six years ago I looked her up on Facebook. I didn't contact her. I remember Vic saying that you had to think long and hard who you apologised to. You're not doing it for your benefit but theirs and if it might cause them more pain, hen best move on and leave it alone. Instead I sent a message to her sister. Telling her I hadn't been very nice to Joy and I'd like her to know how sorry I was. How it was one of the biggest regrets of my life and if she felt it right would she share that with Joy. There was no reply. So I concluded, that her sister had decided this was something best left unmentioned.
Three weeks ago, I get a "friends" request from Karen, Joy's sister and a note on how she hadn't seen my message, until she'd used another computer to log onto Facebook. There buried deep amongst the gossip was my unopened mail. She was still with Terry, the boyfriend she'd had all those years (35+) ago and Joy was fine and lived not far from them and not far from the house they'd both grown up in. We swapped messages for about a week when Karen wondered if I'd like to meet up. I said, it felt kind of strange after all these years and I'd only ever intended for my apology to be past on but yes, lets meet. Then another message with the rendezvous and that Terry would like to come, was that ok. Yes sure. The day before we checked with each other that we were still free to meet and "Oh can Joy come too" tagged on the end. I couldn't refuse but now felt very nervous about the whole thing. How was this going to go?
I can't spend all day on here so you're going to have to wait till later......

Onwards and upwards, in the pursuit of fulfilment :)))   

It's been a while!

It's been a while since I've written. Lots has happened but my old laptop finally decided it's days of dealing with my awful spelling and my complete disregard of the basic rules of grammar were enough. It refused to switch on despite my protests and trying to type on the phone or kindle just doesn't work for me.
Luckily a secondhand laptop of the same make and model turned up on eBay. So once again, I can record the mundane musings of an ageing old fart and when my second purchase (a bunch of wires and plugs) arrives. I hope to recover my old photos and paperwork.
I'm giving you advanced warning, the year or so of enforced silence has not led to any improvement in content or writing style. My talents for procrastination and fiscal ineptitude shows no signs of waning. It's bad enough that I have to reread this drivel before pressing the publish button. The knowledge that you are leaves me with a heavy heart. Add me to the long list of things you've managed to quit. Drugs, booze, cigarettes and James Blunt Cd's

Onwards and upwards in the pursuit of fulfilment  :)))

Friday, 15 July 2016


   I've been blogging for a while now. At first I knew it was simply a diary. No one was reading it, it was a daily record on how I felt. Then I became aware there was the odd casual  reader and occasionally they posted a comment (and just for the record Aims, Pixie, Pres and the lady from Pleasantville it was wonderfully up lifting and I hope and wish you well because you are part of what I am now). I have to admit I was slightly swayed by the idea that people actually read the rubbish I was publishing but that was soon put into check, when other blogs I was reading at the time (not the four mentioned) started saying things like "dear readers." So I got grounded pretty quick and returned to what I knew best. It's a real shame Pres doesn't blog anymore and Pixie and the lady from P do rarely. Aims bless her, posts non stop. I have struggled to find blogs good enough to replace these. Why? Well because they were heartfelt and didn't spare the blushes or the tears or the angst. So my post today is dedicated to those four bloggers. I wish you well and I wish you good things.

Onwards and upwards in the pursuit of fulfilment :)))

Sunday, 12 June 2016

....... ation

   So what you been up to my procrastinating chums?  Yes me neither. Although I have been doing a bit of half hearted reading. I'd call it research but that would be laughed out of any court in the land. So let's just cut to the chase. Or let's cut to a slow stroll with plenty of stops.
    Procrastination is a really really long word to say let alone type and it's the label given to people who have a problem finishing something and/or give up early. It's from the Latin "to delay." I have a picture in my head of a bunch of Latin scholars dressed in sheets, gathered round a table in a downtown Athens tavena. Nibbling on olives and goats chesse while knocking back the local red. Seeing who could come up with the most outrageous and or the longest word to discribe some of lifes low blows. Intoxication (poisioned) not something to say quickly when your sober let alone drunk and what a party they must of had on the back of  Dyslexia and Dyspraxia
   Back to the here and now. My research (hoho) uncovered amongst other things, that too many of our modern day conveniences can easily distract one. Mobile phones, computors, the TV etc always get a mention and I wonder if those of us that fill our lives with lots of different things are more susceptible to price as...... To test my theory I'm making an effort to limit myself to as few distractions as possible. Gone is the wall of TV screens, tuned to stations across the globe. The Porsche. I know it looks nice but you try filling it with 10 metres of tiles a bath and a bundle of 15mm copper tube. The personal chef, the fitness trainer and girl Friday will all go and I'll swap the mobile for two tin cans and a long piece of string.

   I shall leave you with Deoxyribonucleic! any ideas on that one without reaching for a dictionary?

Onwards and upwards in the pursuit of fulfilment  :)))


Thursday, 12 May 2016

Blogs on procrastin............

   Anything about procrastination I can find online, has become my breakfast reading of late. Absorbing the words as well as my eggs and coffee. There's a ton of stuff, on how to beat it. All are kind of interesting but after a while, I get fed up with their "It's so simple, write your to do list, pat yourself on the back, rewrite your list and go on give yourself another pat on the back. Every five minutes," approach most take. Then there are the odd articles on and by people with good jobs who are serious procrastinators. Haven't filed their tax returns for years, miss work deadlines etc but they so skillfully poke fun at themselves. It's funny. They make me look like a workaholic. However these are difficult to find, either because people in good jobs can't afford to procrastinate in the main or they are procrastinating and have finished the article they're supposed to be writing on procrastinating.
   So then I hit on the simple idea of looking for a blog on the subject of, yes I know, you're tired of reading the word, I'm tired of typing the P word. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. However I found a couple and read away and would you believe it, they gave up after six or seven posts. So if any of you are currently reading a blog on the P word . Written by a conscientious, industrious procrastinator please let me know.
   While we're on the subject and as it's me pounding the keys we're staying on it. I read about this guy who counted off 150 paperclips into a cup. He then started his day, cold calling customers. After each call he takes a paperclip and moves it to another cup. He knew it wasn't his pitch or the product that paid him but making enough calls. It was simply a numbers game. For me it time spent on the job. I don't use paperclips but I do have plenty of brass olives. Little rings used in compression joints. So now, as I complete each hour I pop one into an empty container. I'm not sure if its going to work as well for me as the paperclips did for the telephone salesman but they make a wonderful noise when you shake them up and down. Just listen to how hard my day has been!
   That's not my only weapon in my fight. I like a nice snappy quote. Something I can write at the top of my to do list for the day. Together with the cheerful clanging of several olives in the background it will drive me onwards and upwards. Well I've had a few false starts. Great one liners but they just don't hit the spot. Until I found "Doing comes first." Written by, I forget who but illustrating that sometimes there is no motivation to do certain things. Emptying the bin, folding the laundry etc. You just do it and sometimes it's difficult to find the motivation for the important stuff but if you start doing it, it will come. Ok I've off to shake my olives.

Onwards and upwards in the pursuit of fullfilment :-)))