The extra bits...(Under construction).

Thursday, 27 March 2014

Target one.....

     Methinks the time away last weekend has indeed done this ol' pirate the world of good, I'd even go as far as to say that me timbers have been well and truly shivered! There is something truly special and soothing about walking in the wild places with Bear, it's difficult to put into words but suffice to say that it gives a troubled and tortured mind some solice and eases the darkness, helping me to look forward for brief moments instead of behind all of the time. It is made all the better for having the Bear as a companion with all her antics threatening to crack this permanently frowning face of mine with smiles and, dare I say, sometimes a chuckle.





      Indeed the all too brief time in the lake district has given me a tiny bit of hope and some focus that I may one day be the man that a loved one sees in me and not the gutless and monstrous being I see reflected in every mirror that I happen to glance into. 

      So I have given myself a target, one at this time that seems a distant dream. It is to simply walk the length of striding edge on route to Helvellyn in the lake district. 

Oh bugger.....
     It seems a distant dream because of several factors:- my weight, extreme lack of fitness, a profound fear of heights (well the falling and the landing bits) and my inability to follow anything through in the last few years with my own fears, self loathing and the black dog always dragging me back.

     But if I can do this before the snow returns to the tops this year perhaps it will prove to myself that I am not as worthless as I think that I am. Only thing about this target that is Bear won't be able to accompany my as I feel it is far to dangerous for her, damn going to miss her company on this one.

     Till the next time, take care of yourselves. 

John 




Wednesday, 26 March 2014

Pictures from the lakes

     Just thought I'd post a few pictures from the lakes as I don't have the words to describe the landscape. 
















      Legend speaks of a headless hound around these hills but I'm not so sure.... 

Till the next time, take care....

John 

Monday, 24 March 2014

Taster....

     Trying to grab some z's afore the return to the fun factory tomorrow but counting sheep just raises the wrong results for this Welsh man. So I thought I'd just post a ickle taste of the Weekend.... 




Night all,

John

Friday, 21 March 2014

The Chits...

I  Well I guess it's time for an allotment update before I head to the lakes in an attempt to reduce my girth and clear my cluttered mind a tad. 

     I've actually got quite a bit done within the few hours spare I had this week. I've finished clearing paths, the leaf mould bin is complete and I've dug about half of the first bed removing copious amounts of nettle, dandelion, skutch grass and the like. I have got my earlies and seconds chitting, sown runner beans and sweet corn in those funny little pots that are supposed to degrade. So all in all tis coming on, slowly but surely. 


Chitterlings 

More to come.. 



     Well guess that just about covers all things plotting. Till next time take care.

John

Thursday, 20 March 2014

Warning signs....

     Or as my counselor would also say "heads up you're heading back into the hole" or, alternatively, as I would say "you fat bastard!". Let me enlighten you to theses perhaps cryptic words. As I have tried to make clear upon these pages of my blog (yes I still prefer real books) for some time now I have been aware of the fact that I been suffering from severe depression for several years although for quite a few of these years I was oblivious to this fact. Now I'm not after sympathy, hugs nor the wailing and gnashing of teeth from any of you, assuming that is there is more than one reader of my blog. No far from it, what I'm hoping that perhaps my words and admissions of the shit I've caused loved ones and family may help some people realise that they are not alone in the darkness and there is help out there. 

     Ah speaking of help I am a fine one to talk of seeking the professional help that is so important to fighting depression. It has taken me a long time to seek help and even longer to heed the advice given. But after ping ponging back and forth between help, be it from loved ones or professional aid, I am finally taking heed and following some of the guidelines given. Words, and tablets if I'm honest, were soon forgotten when I was high on life and also when I was down in the darkest depths. Only when I was coming out of the dark back into the light of living would I except I still was very ill and seek help. This succession of extreme highs and lows has caused so much pain to others who have given me all their love only to have anger, scorn and pain thrown in their faces. It is a wonder that any would entertain even the notion of talking to me in the future. But there is hope, even for people as lost and as wrapped up in themselves such as me. It has taken such a long time but the finality of perhaps losing a loved one has made me sit and take notice and it's time to move on and leave the hurt behind. 

     So back to the plot, my counselor has reminded me of a list of warning signs that was spoken about probably over twelve months ago now and to which I paid no effing heed whatsoever. But now I have this list with me all the time and I read it every morning as the first thing that I do, before bathing, eating or even a brew! I don't always take in the words as they swim before my eyes but one line hit home the other morning, not when first read but when finally the bathroom was free and I climbed aboard the scales. I didn't weigh myself for any reason, it was more a robotic reaction to seeing a set of scales left out. As the numbers swam before my eyes my brain must have taken the information before them and sent a short message to my barely aware conscious bit...the message being 'you fat bastard Wooldridge!'. It was then one of the bullet points I'd read before dragging myself sloth like from my bed drew me sharply into focus. The line read "Look for signs of not looking after yourself physically or hygienically", and as I gazed at myself wobbling away, and yes also with a perhaps over ripe odour hazing around me, I realised that the dog had been biting and once again I'd let it drag me down causing pain to others. I do have an idea what triggered this particular dip and that is Bear has been extremely ill lately and once the focus of looking after her after the immediate danger had eased I withdrew into myself, with not even the relief of walking with Bear as she recovered I dipped and threw living a life away once more. 

     That's the thing about depression, when you're being smothered in darkness you don't see it yourself. Indeed you don't see anything apart from the odd chink of light that sometimes spears through the dark. This time, for me, it was as simple as climbing aboard a set of scales and having my memory jogged that I was failing to even do the most basic things to care for myself. It's a thin line for me between living and being enveloped in darkness but one that's getting slightly easier to follow. 

     Oh and my weight for those nosey buggers.....fifteen stone dead on, bugger. But spurred on with the realisation that I was dipping once more I've pulled my socks up and been more than active in the few hours when I'm not working. Also, to help both of us feel alive once more, I've scrubbed the overtime for the next few days off and we're heading for the lakes, I'll take pictures.

Take care, 

John

    

Monday, 10 March 2014

Not always down...

     Just to prove that I'm not always a housebound miserable bugger......




Take care now,

John

Tuesday, 4 March 2014

Forgotten treasure...

     So there I am, down in the mouth, once again contemplating yet another move. Tis indeed slightly wareing upon the soul at my age feeling that roots long since ripped up have yet to settle. I must say that this small welsh village where I have found myself of late feels the sort of place roots could hold me but I'm so use to drifting tis hard contemplating thoughts of a simple life in just one place at the moment.

     Anyway my rootless lifestyle is not what I intended scribing about this brightly lit yet bone chilling day. But there is a thin connection betwixt oncoming movement and this post. Realising that I have still many boxes to sort and lighten my load for each move I pushed myself one more to delve into the boxes that contain my past life's belongings. Now if you have indeed read past posts you may recall (if you managed to remain awake that is) that I'm starting to not only rid myself of modern, throw away, trappings but that I am replacing said items with older, more crafted items. I'm not the sort to buy old items just to boast about them and lock them away in dust filled drawers to be occasionally taken out and pawed at as my precious. These items are to be used as intended, given back their old life if you like. 

     One of the items purchased is a split cane fishing rod, a right little beauty if I say so myself, and I briefly mentioned it here. As I trawled through the 'boxes of my past' I came across a forgotten treasure gifted to myself by my sister nearly forty years ago as herself and husband took me out on my first course fishing adventures. 


A Pflueger 822 with spares

The Pflueger mated to the split cane

      I have many happy memories of using this small reel and the fish it helped me catch, from tough fighting Tench to the piratical shoals of marauding Perch. It seems to suit the split cane with its red highlights reflecting the rods reel holder's colouring and it also gives the rod balance in my hand. This year I'm hoping to use this combination of old fishing tackle, using traditional baits, to make some fresh happy memories. Of course I'll be sure to report back the successes and the failures of these adventures. For now take care of yourselves.

John