Chilling over Christmas...

 On Wednesday last week - the Wednesday before Christmas - I went down with a cold and cough. I remember feeling a little shivery on my way home from work and (fortunately) I was staying in what I call the Capsule (see previous post). Feeling unwell often messed with my sleep and anybody sleeping with me so I figured it best to be in the capsule until the illness was over.I think I timed things correctly (or I almost did). My cold was a little debilitating. I felt weary and I was coughing and sneezing and later blowing my nose too (a typical bad one if you ask me).

My first line of defence is always Lemsip and I'm glad to report that we had two boxes in the cabinet. All I had to remember was to stick with just four sachets in a 24-hour period. Not too challenging.

Andy outside Sheree's, we'll meet there on Sunday I hope...

I was in work on Thursday, feeling, it has to be said, a little down-in-the-dumps. There were a few people in and everybody was winding down. I managed to get done what I'd planned to get done, finishing an article that needed to be written. I felt good about that and left the office late knowing that it was all over for the Christmas break. I was feeling bad enough to ask for a lift from Purley Oaks and I was in no fit state to do the 2-mile walk from Purley station to Sanderstead that I'd been doing over the past fortnight. I got a lift from Purley Oaks and then embarked upon chilling out and trying to get better in time for Christmas. In all honesty, whatever I had made me feel down, very down and I felt as if I couldn't cope with the world. I certainly wasn't looking forward to any kind of interaction with other people. I did virtually nothing. In fact, sitting here now I'm trying to remember but can't. What did I do? I think we went out on Saturday, or was it Sunday, but I remember being in Sutton, in Starbucks and in M&S. My daughter had a haircut booked so we were simply killing time until she was finished and then we drove back home.

I've never enjoyed the commercialism of Christmas. In fact, I hate it. The greed, the pushing and shoving, those awful Christmas ads on the television and the fact that all we were doing was filling the boots of another Tory, another awful businessman. The family bit is all fine, that's what it's all about and, by and large, my Christmases (our Christmases) are family oriented. We have a big family get-together on the 'big day' round at Natalie's mum's and Boxing Day we tend to go to a pub for lunch and throw in a shortish walk, this time around Shere, the Surrey village where they filmed The Holiday. We found a great pub, The Bray, and I had what was arguably the best steak pie, mash and gravy in the world, all very filling, all very nutritious too. In the evening we played Trivial Pursuit, and I was fine but tired out, probably because I was still a little under the weather. 

Triggers by Glen Matlock is brilliant...

Today, the day after boxing day (it's amazing how quickly Christmas is diluted by the passing of time) I went over with the family to Sutton to see mum. We bought M&S sandwiches from a nearby BP garage and made small talk with mum and my brother who drove up from Petworth. We drove home and now we're chilling again, watching Tom Cruise in War of the Worlds. It's great chilling out as I never seem to relax and soon, within a few days in fact, well, after the New Year, the job starts again and it's a busy month of travelling, one trip I have to do and others I can take or leave (although I'll probably do one of them). But the last thing I want to do now is think about work. 

I haven't been in a fit state to ride the bike. The plan had been to go out on Boxing Day but there was no way I was fit enough. Hopefully by the weekend I'll be back in the land of the living. I'm hoping for a ride next Saturday and then on Sunday I'll go see Andy at Sheree's in Tatsfield.

I'm reading a great book. Triggers by Glen Matlock, a former Sex Pistol, although you could always say that once a Sex Pistol always a Sex Pistol. It's a great read for so many reasons, one being that his early years were very similar to mine, there are things he talks about that I remember too, like Sunday roast on Sunday and then cold meat on Monday (normally, in my case, served with tinned spaghetti and mashed potatoes). Then he worked in a department store. I did too. I was known as a 'mobile porter', somebody who could do any job in any department. My best job was operating the lifts. I knew how to get them stuck so I could spend time alone between the floors reading until the electrician winched the lift to the next floor. I also worked in 'small electrical' fitting plugs on to kettles and had a stint in the heavy electrical department shifting fridge freezers from the warehouse to the lorries. A great job it has to be said and here I am decades later, still working, still earning, although the job is a little more sophisticated and in line with what I'm capable of doing.

The best steak pie, The Bray, Shere, Surrey

It's now just turned 1900hrs and I'll stop writing for now. Alright, I'll continue. Somebody asked me the other day if I was still writing my blog. I am, I told them, but I'd slowed down somewhat, which is annoying. I used to write about every ride I took, but now I kind of amalgamate a number of rides into one post, but if I'm travelling, I always write up what happens each day I'm out of the country. It's my way of remembering what I did and when I did it, photographs thrown in for good measure.

Tomorrow we will be out and about visiting people and I'm really looking forward to it; there's a guy called Julian, I haven't seen him since this time last year and I'm looking forward to meeting him again. Perhaps this time we'll exchange numbers and try to meet up again some time in the new year.

Anyway, time to sign off and watch some television. At least I'm chilling, that's the main thing. I don't do enough of this, and I need to do more.

Random thoughts from Lazyville...

You know when you come across as depressed or down, there's always somebody there to remind you that there are others worse off than you are? Well, there is something flawed about that position as basically it's stating that if, for some reason (or reasons) you're feeling down or depressed or pissed off, that, in reality, you shouldn't be in such a state, that it's wrong, unjustified, unreasonable, and so forth. So, in other words, whatever is bugging you, you shouldn't be depressed or upset or pissed off about it because of old so and so or this or that person who has something 'real' to be worried about. I understand that entirely and I'm sure that everybody who feels a little down or depressed occasionally, knows of somebody who's in a worse position than they are and that those people deserve all the support they can get. Think of those in Ukraine, for example.

I'm in the basement, thinking 'bout the government

I'm feeling aggrieved, depressed, annoyed, angry, pissed off, down and dejected for all sorts of reasons, not least the state of the UK and the awful government which has presided over the country since the days of David Cameron, Britain's third worst Prime Minister next to Boris Johnson and (at the top of the list) Liz Truss. I feel powerless, there's nothing I can do about it and, as I write this, I realise that there are a lot of people in this country who, for want of a better word, (although I realise this will sound very arrogant on my part) are basically ignorant (in my opinion). I'm talking about those who really thought that Boris Johnson was fit to run the country and those who support the current Tory government.

Harry and Meghan 

Then there is all the nonsense surrounding the royal family and in particular Prince Harry and the revelations from his book Spare, which publishes tomorrow. He's really let the side down and for no reason at all. What has he got to moan about in the overall scheme of things? He's got money, he's wealthy, he hasn't got to worry about where the next meal is coming from, he's living in a huge mansion in sunny California, he's married, he has kids and yet he feels the need to moan about his lot when, in the UK at this very moment, there are people who are nowhere near as well off as he struggling to pay their bills, there are people living on the streets and even ordinary, run-of-the-mill people like me dealing with the cost of living crisis, the strikes and so forth.

Why are we all so gullible?

The media is so obsessed with Harry and Meghan because they know that their stories will sell newspapers, it's that simple. And why is that? Because of the gullibility of the British people and, indeed, the people of the world who lap this sort of stuff up, particularly women for some reason who like nothing more than a gossip over a cup of coffee. There's nothing worse than gullibility. Why are we all so gullible? Why are we happy to go out on the days leading up to Christmas to buy stuff from shops, at extortionate prices, and then, a day after 'the big day' the shops that sold us that stuff are suddenly selling things (and the stuff we bought) at up to 60% off? There was I yesterday looking at the goods on offer in a clothes shop in Sevenoaks, a place where I had bought an expensive jumper only a matter of weeks ago, only to discover that everything in the store was now far, far cheaper. Ironically, the jumper I bought was still the same price. Perhaps next year just a small present to put under the tree (for the sake of appearances) and then a return trip to the shop (and others like it) a few days after Christmas to get greater value for money, perhaps two jumpers for the price of one and so on. But no, everybody is gullible. I wonder how many people will buy that awful book by Prince Harry? 

Looking out from Sheree's in Tatsfield Village, 8 January 2023

Cost of living crisis

The cost of living crisis is a nuisance. Every time I go out I have to fill up with petrol, restaurants are now charging extortionate prices (I say 'restaurants' when I mean cafes, snack bars, traditionally low-spend establishments). Tea at almost £3 a cup, sandwiches for around £8 - with a sad-looking salad garnish and some crisps so we all think the high prices are justified. Rail fares are going up. Can you believe that? All of last week there were no trains and we've all been inconvenienced, but they have the audacity to put up the fares, which are already extortionate. Once the weather improves and the evenings get lighter I'm going to ride to work like I did last summer, except I'll start earlier this year and make the most of it. I've bought waterproof trousers and shoes and there's nothing stopping me but my own lack of motivation, which is probably exacerbated by a lack of exercise brought on by the bad weather, those endorphins need to be stimulated but instead I'm sheltering from the rain.

Pot of tea at Sheree's in Tatsfield

Sunday 8th January 2022

Well, not today! Yesterday (Saturday 7th January) I'd checked the iphone weather app and realised that today (Sunday 8th January) there was a window of dryness that would enable Andy and I to get out there and ride the bikes. Now, it's worth pointing out that unlike me, Andy has continued riding throughout the bad weather using his trusty trainer in his garage. I should buy one too but I'm not sure it would provide me with much more motivation than a real bike to get out there and exercise despite what Andy says about how he warms up fairly quickly and even has to shed clothes as his exercise continues. I'm sure that's true. In fact, I know it is because whenever I jump on a stationary bike in a hotel gym I leave the place drenched in my own sweat. It works. But going out into a cold garage on a cold day is not easy and Andy understands this and it's good to know that somebody has my back and wants me to keep fit. Believe me, that means a lot. And the options are there: start swimming, by a trainer device, buy an exercise bike and put it in the conservatory, ride the Nobbler of an evening, all six miles of it, rain or shine, hot or cold. The easiest is the latter and the crucial ingredient is, of course, motivation. The best thing, of course, would be if the bad weather lifted, like it did this morning. I'll say this, I've felt on top of the world today and I put that down to the ride, the exercise. Remember: my last ride prior to this morning was Boxing Day. Something has to be done and Andy's right to bring it up. The other problem, of course, is the dark. If I opt to ride to work (and believe me I've seriously considered it for tomorrow (Monday 9th January) it will mean riding in the dark and that in turn will mean charging up my lights (both of which are USB-chargeable). Then all I need is some high-Viz clothing, but the lights should be enough. Am I going to ride to work in the morning? No, I'm not, but I might just get on the bike and ride the Nobbler when I get back home. It's no more than 35 minutes of hell and then I'll be back in the house with around six miles under my belt and that lovely feeling of achievement.

Tuesday 10 January 2022

It's Tuesday night, it's raining and I haven't been out since Sunday. I've checked out gym/swim membership at a leisure centre close to where I work, it's £34/month, not bad when you consider I could spend £8 per day on lunches, totalling £45 in a week, so if I take sandwiches then I save and can spend the money on the membership. But will I go? Or won't I? I might start off with all the good intentions, but then things will fall by the wayside and I'll stop, like most people do. I might not, of course, and if I can go just three times a week (and throw in a couple of lunch time swims while I'm at it) then it could be worthwhile. And when the days brighten I can ride to work and all will be well with the world. I might not need the membership for more than a couple of months. Either way I need to act, perhaps tomorrow, or the day after, I can't do anything as it's Tuesday night, it's 1919hrs and I'm waiting for dinner. I'm hungry. I've already eaten a toasted Marmite sandwich, two slices of toast and honey, one hot cross bun and that's all because I only had a peanut butter sandwich for lunch and a cup of tomato and basil soup. I don't know why I ate so much on coming through the door, but I did and, fortunately, that hot cross bun has done the trick. I won't eat any more until dinner is ready, in about 40 minutes or so (chilli con carne with rice). Then I'll be fine, I'll probably have my Snore & Peace tea, watch the box (or read) and then hit the sack.