Closing Time

Putting on my leggings this morning, I had a back spasm. I know a guy who had weeks of painful repercussion simply from picking up his daughter, another who turned his head suddenly and slipped a neck disk. Sometimes, however careful you are, this shit just happens. I’ve ingested the standard painkillers, will take it easy and won’t do anything strenuous until Wednesday’s PT session. Not only does this shit happen, but I am well versed with the means by which you deal with it. Lying around all day complaining is not an answer, though it might be a wish for some. For me, there is really too much to do. It really doesn’t matter we’re in half term either.

My career is not going to progress itself.


This morning I dropped my old car off for the last MOT I will have to pay for, as it is now consigned to the chronology of vehicles I used to own. It will still be driven for a while yet, however, but a replacement is ordered. It’s smaller and petrol, and I suspect might be the last fossil-fueled vehicle I ever possess. After that, it will be a tricycle or my feet, and that will be totally fine. My son has already professed a complete lack of desire to learn to drive, stating there are far more important things he ought to be doing. Public transport suits him fine, and I have a measure of empathy with this statement. I’d love to call time on this county’s obsession with cars as transport. Maybe my son could be the first step.


I’ve also got half a mind to start taking pictures every day from now on, just as a means to give my brain summat to relax with. The weekend was enormously stressful, and I would venture to suggest a lot of my body woes are wrapped around the trauma that created. Therefore having something to do other than working at a PC or a bike will be hugely beneficial long term. I ought to do yoga too, but that’s not really a half term pursuit. For now, the daily walk will get some air in my lungs, wake up the brain and give more content.

After that, we can busk the rest.

Your Cheating Heart


I slept last night in two distinct blocks, which means lying awake at 2.30am there was a lot to think about. Some of that will be dealt with elsewhere, but other bits cracked open deeply personal parts of my psyche. Dreams are, they say, the best means by which one can understand what it is that you really desire in life. If last night is any indicator there’s a lot breaking free from my past that perhaps I have not really dealt with in an appropriate fashion. Maybe the time is coming to start dealing with that.

Also I am wondering how long it will be before my husband regrets encouraging me to have an interest in Strictly Come Dancing.


Okay, there’s tons to do and not much time to get it done thanks to lack of daylight.

I’ll see you for a bigger post tomorrow.

Life Through a Lens


The plan, starting tomorrow, is beginning to take form. I will, every day, make time for a new personal header image all the way to December. Tomorrow is my first Blood donation since surgery, so I’ll be forced into maintenance mode in terms of exercise: my Trainer’s gonna give me advice on how I do a week like this, meaning I’ll be back to full capacity on the 6th. Next week I’m gearing up for NaNoWriMo, plus getting some new things ready to roll.

I am cautiously optimistic at the way forward.


The end of my Haiku project is coming up, and I have enjoyed it so much I think I will do another series in December, with Christmas backdrops. There are other projects to do too: making Christmas gifts, organising my wardrobe (finally) and setting some new Health goals for 2018. I don’t need to wait for January 1st to do all this either. It can happen next week, or tomorrow, or even right now. Spontaneity is finally returning as a viable option. I’d forgotten how much fun that was too.

Right now, it is time for a much-needed rest day, a lot of domestic faffing plus a lot of backlogs to finally deal with. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.



Just uploaded three months worth of NEW IMAGES to Flickr (go take a look!) so I can start making some new headers. The last time I did this was earlier in the year, and there’s lots of lovely stuff to look at. THEN I need to find a way to organise imagery better via WordPress, but I suspect that is a task for the Christmas holidays. I could use it as displacement activity but, let’s be honest. there is plenty of that going on already and not enough work.

I crossed an important threshold yesterday, however: the Patreon stuff is almost complete for the month, and I’m taking November to regroup and effectively re-plan the campaign. The short story I wrote got feedback too, and not bad stuff, so that’s a definite sign of progression. I’m currently sitting with Calender planners for the next two months, making sure everything I need to do is at least written down somewhere. After that, it is a case of hit and hope.

By Monday, I should be organised enough to start sharing my ideas going forward.

This Woman’s Work


Last weekend, I watched the last episode of the current season of Dr Who. I didn’t mean to, it just happened, and even though the whole season’s only been absorbed via synopsis, I stayed to the end and was rather glad that happened. The last 45 seconds was so far out of left field as to be a genuine surprise: I won’t spoil it as this is still relatively recent, but fans have a very interesting situation at play, knowing at the end of the Christmas Special we’ll see another regeneration. However, I’m sticking to the assertion that unless the show’s creators break the mould so firmly it is indistinguishable from what has come before, my time with the franchise remains pretty much done.

Then on Wednesday, I read this in the Guardian:


Okay then, so is this really a possibility? Phoebe has been in a number of critically acclaimed drama series but is hardly a household name. That gives her solid credentials off the bat (in fact I am reminded of David Tennant coming from Casanova to the TARDIS) and now I’ve done some research, yes she’d be absolutely perfect. Reminded that Mr Capaldi used the f-word as Malcolm Tucker more than a few times, Ms Waller-Bridge using the c-word in Fleabag seems almost acceptable as part of the entrance exam. The problem, of course, is that BBC3 hit comedy is going to be filming a second season in November this year which might put her off the radar in terms of availability… but hang on, why am I even considering that this woman could be the Doctor?

At some point, one of these so very British, male-dominated bastions has to be stormed.


If you’ve paid any modicum of attention to my writing journey, you’ll know I’ve had a go at redefining the 00 Section in my own way. That sea change is probably even further off long term than Who is, lets be honest, but the fact that actors of colour and race are considered and summarily dismissed shows that hey, at least in that regard I’m not alone in wanting change. The problem, undoubtedly, is the notion of canon and traditionalism: Who and Bond remain very much a product of the ages they were created in. That age, for many people, is not to be disturbed or altered in any way, shape or form. For 007, the notion of insouciant masculinity as attractive clearly still rings true, but sadly the form that now takes is becoming less and less palatable. Only when that is deemed unacceptable by mainstream media, then perhaps the wind will change. Don’t hold you hopes out, though.

With a rapidly ageing population, many of whom are resistant to change (and if the Brexit vote is any indicator very much against anyone trying to make them European) the suggestion that you could have a Bond who didn’t sleep with anyone unless it was absolutely necessary and maybe cared more about teamwork than working alone is going to be met with very short shrift. In fact, when I hear many men talking about a female Bond it is in the context of simply changing this misogynist man into a sociopathic woman. That’s not actually an improvement, fellas, it simply gives you a whole new wank fantasy.  Real, developmental change involves you thinking outside of the bedroom, or outside the TARDIS, depending on your point of view.


Dr Who used to be a fairly asexual affair until the Moffat bloke got involved. Now sexuality is an issue, that makes the woman/man lead role shift even more awkward for the Who people. Except, watching the last episode of Capaldi’s Doctor, and the two Masters effectively flirting with themselves? There was so much potential subtext to be read into that episode: countless references to how women and men do things differently, that sexuality is largely irrelevant in just about anything once you gain the ability to look past the people involved. Honestly, of the two bastions of Britishness, Who seems the one more likely to crack first.

Now I have to hope it will come sooner than later.

You’re Not Alone


This is the worst things have been since surgery. It isn’t the pain, or the stuff going on with my body (of which there is a lot, it must be said) but my simple inability to cope with the way life has irreversibly changed. It doesn’t help that my inner ears are still not 100% functioning as they should, that I can’t sleep in more than four hour blocks, or that I’m tired in a way that has never been experienced before. All these are surmountable with the support I have. What isn’t happening is recovery at the speed I’d hoped. However, with that said, I feel confident I can walk to and from the Gym tomorrow. That’s the next step in rehabilitation.

This is a day I just have to push through.

I didn’t wake up on Tuesday and suddenly feel better. This surgery has not instantly lifted a weight from my mind either. I’m still afraid of what I eat, but for different reasons. A previously healthy body is in a fair amount of turmoil that I didn’t want and now have to deal with. Mostly I am as miserable as fuck with tons of pain where none existed before, and that’s the most depressing part of everything. Fortunately, I remember this happening before, and the consequences of those three months on the whole of my life, and I will NOT allow the hovering dark cloud to consume me. I’ve come too far for that. It won’t happen. I am stronger than that, and this will pass.


The most important task today is to get my sleep pattern back to something approximating normal. If it means pushing through, then I will. I am putting a lot of effort into focussing on tasks and not allowing mind to wander.

Today will not beat me.

Every Kind of People

It is decided: #50Kin50Days restarts tomorrow. Where I can I will walk to and from the Gym, and it was only today that I noticed that the bridge across the main road I used to enjoy climbing up and down has vanished (they’re digging up the road around the junction and presumably needed the space for construction.) I’m now wondering if it will be back or not, but I have until late February to wait. Today is the most Wintery day we’ve had so far: grey, dark and a persistent drizzle that makes everything wet and slippery. No matter, I did both ways and a 2k jog/run before an hour of weights. I should be back to Cardio next week too, which is great, meaning it’s been only three weeks to get myself back to fitness, which is undoubtedly some kind of personal record.


This week is mental, what with it being the one before my fundraising 12 hours on Saturday and last posting days and Xmas generally. I should get everything done, I hope. I’ve got a far better chance to do that if I stop writing here and start actually doing stuff so…