I only talk about myself. Implied ethics are a natural aspect of human communication, everyone knows best how others should lead their lives but, apart from diet ( but even that really) I am disinterested in what people do or how they do it. Of course I think I’m doing things right but, then again, most people I imagine think they do too. So that’s it, year over.
In the dreaded medium of the musical I watched on of the highlights of the year, Next to Normal on the excellent National Theatre at Home. It was superb, five productions so far, all good, for a tenner a month.
Had a really good time at the festive break, spoke to the lads by video at their mums, they are very well, and at my gaffe Katie and Coyan stayed for a few days, very relaxed and the extension again worked well.
Still thinking about the biggest con in human history, the one so deeply ingrained in consciousness that it is vigorously defended by the units that it kills. The ideology responsible for more sickness and death than any other, and it’s just getting a head of steam up. Ultra processed matter sold for human consumption. I’ve followed with interest the evidence and the timid attempts to confront it. I have even tried myself and was subject to abuse when I said that modern baby and toddler foods were little more than poison (watch the Panorama programme on the beeb). So now I commit to eating, drinking, cooking, preserving, baking and thoroughly enjoying the experience of real, healthy, great food with almost nothing that is mushed up, chemicalised and flogged at ridiculous prices. But it takes a lot of effort over a fair amount of time and a lot, oh yes, of thinking about. Many stumble, as I have, over what UPF is. Well my slant is, if they advertise it don’t buy it. So when I shop for, let’s say, flour, oats, eggs, vegetables, fruit, dried beans, real butter etc none of it is flogged during a film on Netflix or at a train station. Good start if you want to have a go, which you won’t.
Just restrung my dreadnought with proper bluegrass strings and, early days, it sounds really good and, I think, the intonation problem has gone. I’ve always been a bit itchy about changing strings, no doubt going back a long way to when I used to fuck things up by not knowing what I was doing, well I’m a different person now, still make mistakes but not by thinking I’m no good at stuff. Ooh there it goes, the inferiority complex people put all that effort into installing.
Bit of an angsty day yesterday, got a bit tired but I still had a session whiting bashing on the (very) cold OC platform into the evening. Not complaining at all but it’s sometimes not easy on your own, particularly when you feel a bit tired. Do you know what though, it passes, sometimes during the day itself but almost always (bad shake if it doesn’t) after a goodnight sleep. And my new M+S 230 thread count Egyptian cotton bedlinen certainly helps the zzzzs.
Back to classic albums. Listened to some I’m not familiar with The Band, American Pie, Bob Dylans stuff and, nope, the arrow glides past. Others that I am familiar with, now that I don’t have to think that I’m bothering anybody, are a new revelation. And with this confirmation that I have elevated judgement, taste and class. Take Radiohead (although I would prefer not) I’ve tried again with OK Computer and the one before it and nothing, no, actually, not nothing I got annoyed that they are so highly regarded. Anyway I’m here to praise not to knock so let me elevate one band that should be on shoulders, Mansun. Three albums, all brilliant, great tunes, incredible lyrics and ideas, proper rock/pop musicianship. Honestly I could listen to all three one after the other and not skip a track. Superb music, well done. Dream of the Grey Lantern, Six, Little Kix.
Nearly up, the year that is not me, although, as the world stands, it will be in a bit. Carol is gone and with her the things we did together
One of many, many wrongs from modern thinking is the idea of a ‘bucket list’. So you’re going to die and you want to parachute onto the Taj Mahal while playing the violin, during or after chemotherapy can I ask? Let me have a guess, you will spend the time left just like you spent the time you wasted.
Actually went round to friends for tea on Friday – well really they were Carol’s friends – and it was pleasant. The conversation was varied and interesting, which is important, however, it is seamed through my character to prefer my own company and I am enjoying that very much.
So I’ve owned my new classical guitar (Cordoba C10) for a few weeks and realising that it will take a good while to understand how to get a good sound out of it. Radically my right hand nails have now gone and I am learning to play fingerstyle with pads. Coincidentally I have changed from learning bluegrass with a pick to playing it in the same way ie with pads. Also, for the latter, I’m back playing through an amp and, although a bit off yet, I’m pleased with the progress for both styles (my Fender is still in a lonely corner)
Katie came to stay for the weekend and it was very pleasant. Watched a couple of movies, chatted, had a chippy tea and trimmed up (a bit) for the festive season.
Regarding sea fishing I am not an anvil chucker. My aim is to catch as many fish , and as many species, on as light a tackle as possible. So in winter the main species to catch is whiting and in summer it is lesser dogfish. The fishermen who disdain these species seem also comfortable in their ability to nit catch anything else. Well I don’t like blanking and believe, through experience, that big fish take smaller baits. Well I still haven’t had a bass from OC but the early morning session a few days ago was pretty good. One rod, my own lug (tried other baits and the bites were not comparable) and plenty of decent whiting on a home made two hook flapper. The views here, even at night, are wonderful.
Two albums tonight before football, Night at the Opera and Day at the Races Now I’m not the biggest Queen fanand the question is why not? dunno really because they are brilliant, maybe it’s because they got thrown under the kudos bus by punk in 76, entirely possible.
So I’m bluetoothed up, lounge – stereo – kitchen and upstairs good quality soundbars. I’ve started listening to quite a bit of radio, not podcasts I can’t take to those, but mainly radio 3 classical (actually it’s only radio 3 classical) Can’t say it makes me soar to the heavens but I am getting pleasure from it and, I think, building a foundation knowledge.
So let’s keep with the classic album of the week of which, this week, there are a few. The Vibrators Pure Mania, they didn’t do anything else but this was the classic pop punk album, love it (no need to say that anymore I love all of them. Television Marquee Moon, serious album and the greatest electric guitar music ever made. As with all of the classics the songs have got to be raised above and these are such. Mike Oldfield Tubular Bells don’t need to say anything about this really, like all of them just as impressive now as then.
Maybe a new personal tradition I don’t know, but phew through the new speakers in ultra HD, classic album every week, these mean so much to me. Here’s one you might not expect, Country Life by Roxy Music, categorically different from the saccharine plop of the later period, sensational.
Early morning winter session at Old Colwyn, conditions cold but good and, I’m pleased to say, I have the rigs/setup bang on for this mark. Losing the buttend of my travel rod was a blessing in disguise as the modified feeder rods are perfect for light sea fishing, the bites are clear and the feel is sporty. I think I had a couple of casts without a fish, and whoever says you can’t freeze blowlug is mistaken, it’s a great bait fresh out of cod storage.
It’s been a week since Carol passed away, a busy one. I can’t say being on my own is difficult or unpleasant, it has never been, there is a sense of peace which, I believe, is not uncommon in situations like mine. Also I am feeling relief in that I don’t have to witness, and respond to, the suffering of a person who did not deserve that hand of fate. So I keep busy and with clear focus.
Had a session whiting bashing which was a fish a cast. One of the lads next to me had a bass on lug which was very encouraging. I took a few whiting home as they were of a size and tried to fillet one, but it’s not my thing so I froze them and will use them for bait. They are gorging on shrimp I noticed. Got my Cordoba – a C10 – which is a lovely guitar but very different from my Tanglewood jumbo. So one is for classical and the other for blues/bluegrass, lots of mindful practice to come.
And the house needs sorting of course which is now for my benefit. Should I stay or should I go? For the forseeable it is certainly the former. As I mentioned previously the house is effectively two houses, with one being for the kids when they visit, and the other for me. We moved bedrooms when Carol’s mother vacated, a wonderful room, I’m writing this from in here, sat on a lovely armchair glancing at the sunrise and glimpsing the sea. More sorting out today. Each day I assign a few achievable tasks, today is to sort the garage area to accommodate more stuff that needs to be removed from the house.
The last two weeks saw a regression of Carol’s disease. Her sons in the past week have stayed over and given all the help they could. Yesterday Carol was taken to St David’s hospice in Llandudno in very poor state of health, she could hardly have gone to a better place, the staff and facilities are superb. Carol passed away peacefully holding my hand at 10.15 Thursday 20 11 2025. RIP sweetheart.
In the past few weeks the annexe has been put to good use, Carol’s sons (and family, Katie and Coyan, Daniel and partner, and Adam and Marika. The last (but obviously not least) two are presently enjoying a few days on Anglesey after visiting us, good for them.
Still making all my own food too (leaving out the occasional chippy tea) baking, batch cooking pickling. Still going for my morning walk too, does you good.
Early November. Carol has deteriorated and is now unable to get out of bed well, saying that, I’m writing this from the hospital carpark as we have had to come in because of various problems. Don’t know what’s next but we have contacted the palliative care team and they will do a home assessment. Throughout all of this I am still managing to retain purpose through music, art, fishing etc. As Carol’s mother is no longer with us I have managed to organise the annexe of the house into a very useful space for family with double bedroom, single bedroom, bath and shower room, small kitchen and lounge (it’s a big house) So far Carol’s sons and family have stayed and Katie,Coyan, Daniel and partner have also enjoyed a stay over.Adam is coming on Saturday with Marika and I am picking them up from the station – not when Man Utd are playing though.
October 15, sensational session at Old Colwyn and yet another re-evaluation of how I want to enjoy sea fishing. So, one rod, big fish bait (in a sausage) on a running rig, demolished by crabs in minutes, no bites. Second rod, two hook flapper with fresh pumped blow lug, crab bait again with just the odd whiting. Third rod, lrf, small sabiki rig tipped with lug, bites from the off, whiting, pollack and mackerel. Ans it was a fish – sometimes two or even three – a cast for the whole session. What was interesting was that I just had to keep the rig moving slightly and the bites came, even when there was a fish on (with the sabikis) I left it in and, more often than not, more bites would follow. Fantastic fishing just how I like it, I’m going to make my own sabikis with the idea that I will target the bigger pollack and whiting, I’d go again tonight if I could.
Had a couple or three sessions since the last post, actually had one last evening (2nd October pension month!) It got a bit breezy but nevertheless still caught and the mackerel are showing so I’ll be having a sabiki session. I mentioned previously a concern about my energy levels and put it down to becoming an codger, well, since partaking in a good, swift half hour walk every morning – as well as cycling and everything else (even started decorating) – I feel spiffing. What I eat and drink has an enormous impact on my health, of course it does, but I now realise I can’t limp about like I’m finished, no stuff that, this is the age of the new greys.
Managed a night session at Old Colwyn, from the off it was a bite a chuck, wasn’t really expecting it so I was only semi-prepared for a whiting session and they were only small so more difficult to hook. But, anyway, it’s my kind of fishing, super light and at it, like dace fishing on the Ribble. Also, didn’t cost owt in bait as I pumped my own for a complete session. Footy day today and rig making.
Still having a lovely walk each morning, about half an hour, along the prom, one day one way the next the other. I listen to classical music and for the past week or so it’s Beethoven.The scenery almost from my front door is superb and, of course, sea air is fantastic. For a while I can just forget about stuff, apart from Man Utd’s lack of pace in midfield.
An unfortunate episode. Carol’s mother, who has lived with us since we moved to Wales has, for a couple of months, been in a home following a fall. Carol’s brother and wife, virtually absent for decades regarding basic responsibilities, have had to take the mantle. The circumstances of the actual incident should give a clear understanding of their approach. On the day Carol’s son and partner were visiting with their baby girl, Carol’s mother fell, she was instructed to go to hospital, Carol’s brother was informed, he said he couldn’t help in case the traffic was busy. I took her to emergency (traffic was fine, of course) and Carol’s son stayed with her for 17 hours. 17 hours it took for her brother to travel from Preston. People knew then, clearly.
So she can’t look after herself as before. Something needed to be done, an alternative found and they needed to do it. Although the situation was transparent even to a fool, I still left everyone involved with no illusion that Carol’s mother could not return under these circumstances. Moreover, she would require nearly constant care. On Tuesday they sat in our living room and told us they were making plans for Carol’s mother to return here. I said, again quite clearly, that this was untenable. I asked them if they had considered the mental and physical strain it would place on Carol and myself if this were to happen. They said they had not. I then instructed them of my refual to help in any way if this happened. Carol’s brother’s wife then accused me of washing my hands of the situation (actual words used) They both then barraged me/us with emotional blackmail. And that was enough.
When they left our house they had been disabused of certain assumptions they may have held. Carol’s mother will not be returning to live with us.
Saturday in Manchester with the lads. They now have their own apartment in the northern quarter which is pretty impressive. Good day all round and I met Dan’s girlfriend Aanisaa. Didn’t take any snaps of me and Adam which is why there isn’t any pics of me and Adam, thought Dan took one but he didn’t.
Much the same with Carol’s illness which means, unfortunately, that it’s bad. Last chemotherapy this week, second blood transfusion last week yet, overall, she is presenting fairly well. I managed a few hours at Old Colwyn last week, wasn’t expecting much, pumped some bait the day before and away. Nothing on the big baits, which is the same for nearly everybody here and along the coast, although, down the side, on size 16 with ultra sensitive tackle I managed some sport with the smelts. These little fish, like all the other species that go unfished for at sea are – I think – really interesting to catch, a bit like dace from a river. Anyway had about a dozen and I’ll try again for them next time, no point throwing them back either I’ll take them for winter whiting bait or, maybe, for the table.
Middle of August. Up and at ’em for the past week, not massive walks but a good mile or thereabouts at a nice pace, and it does a lot of good. What a place to do it as well, straight out of the front door and on the prom, left to the Little Orme, right to Rhos.
Can’t say things are ok at present. Carol, although in most respects is doing well, is suffering chronic fatigue, which means walking or doing most activities people take for granted, is off the agenda. Her mother is in the care home and will be for the forseeable. Of course her brother and Co are hoping she regains enough mobility to enable her to return here but, given the circumstances, this seems unlikely. I will ensure we don’t get pressured into agreeing a resolution that fits someone else’s agenda.
Mmm, bit worried about my energy levels, maybe the stress of the situation is having an effect, probably is, also the exercise has tailed off to very little – well for me very little – so I’m going to work it out. Walking is the biggy and as I am looking after Carol full time I’m not getting anywhere near enough in, this will be rectified. Where there’s a will, and there is a fucking will.
I find talking to people, especially ones who may describe themselves as acquaintances, intensely awkward, to the extent that I become a person I am not, usually a joker. If at any point I get close to revealing snippets of my real self I regress to paranoia and regret. I wish then that after the encounters I could dispell the disagreeable feelings but, sadly, the aftertaste is bitter and durable. Even in solitude I relive many of these moments and the experience is often close to the original moment. And you ask if I’m lonely.
Cookery programmes are great on tv, proper chefs producing wonderful meals with fresh produce. Then what happens? Its mass produced in factories like pet food, marketed like fuck and sold back at full whack to zombies. Holiday programmes are great on tv.
Having to adjust to very limited sojourn outdoors. Carol can walk only a few yards without becoming uncomfortably fatigued, this means I need to be around all day. You might think it follows that I would have more time for painting,drawing, guitar etc but it hasn’t panned out like that. I do everything which takes big chunks of the day. However, I am now sat on one of our lovely comfy chairs, in an upstairs room, glance left sea view, glance right Bryn Eirin…don’t look ahead because Sarah has got another skip on her drive!
Nice to see the lads over the weekend, boy things move fast, Katie bought an apartment in Manchester last year and, this Friday (mid July) they are moving into one they have bought in the Northern Quarter. Well done to all three, doing very nicely.
Things a bit upside down. Carol’s mum has fallen and is in hospital, Carol herself is profoundly tired and enduring second-line chemotherapy plus radiotherapy. The bottom line is that I’m it, not to worry just crack on. Bread made this week as well as flapjacks, trifle (for Carol) soup and my mega tropical mix.
Everything is home made. That is to say virtually nothing is hyper-processed. You know this is not a hippy-dippy lifestyle, it is the fundamental starting position of any kind of health or wellbeing, physical or mental. And I wouldn’t have declined the knowledge decades ago. The latest addition is bara brith, first attempt and it is just so delicious. Next up, although I don’t eat a lot of it, home made pasta.
Holyhead yesterday just a couple of days after the inland sea. It is quite a physical day but I am pleased that, not only am I comfortably able to do it, but that the more I seem to do the stronger I feel, and approaching 67 that isn’t too bad a tin of tacks. The fishing was very good. Not the slightest interested that dogfish and wrasse are less sought after by the bass and ray snobs – this is just like chub and grayling were to trout snobs – I love catching them on very light tackle. Oh, couple of things to note. One, the bigger bait rig worked very well, in preparation for barbel fishing, worked a treat, just one hook length much longer than previously and with a new bolt-rig format. Two, my fresh pumped blow lug worked great for the bigger wrasse, some stonking bites. Overall a top day, lovely weather too.
Off we go, to the inland sea, Valley, Anglesey. I’ve got me worms, freshly pumped, rigs made, and I know where I’m going – or do I? Right, so on YouTube it shows the mark right opposite the train tracks which, I thought was the station. Well it’s not. So the walk to it (with full tackle) was about a mile and a half which kind of scuppers the idea of an easy to get to spot. Also it wasn’t the best time to go with the wind gusting over 20mph, one angler walked past me and then walked straight back. And it’s rocky, not to fish in but to get to the water. So I reckon I’ll stick to Holyhead for the day out (although the Severn at Shrewsbury is beckoning) The journey to Anglesey on the train is a delight and I now view the whole day as much more than the catching of fish.
This week, the 10th, finds us at the hospital on several days. Carol’s condition is deteriorating and the chance of surgery, which was a faint hope, has now passed. This leaves another round of chemotherapy, with the addition of radiotherapy, so this means a fair few blood test, consultations etc. On Wednesday though we had a grand day out in Snowdonia.
I regularly encounter the idea that very intelligent people are destined to a life of anxiety and unhappiness. Assuming this has truth then, as always, I would ask why? The human mind is the most powerful piece of kit in the universe, and we ask it to do a lot. Fortunately, we have control mechanisms yet, unfortunately, no user manual. Therefore we have to figure it out as we go along. Well, imagine you were in charge of an ocean going cruise ship, no crew, only the faintest inkling of how it operated, loads of buttons and switches and no operating instructions. And you’re moving. You press a button and it slows you down, good. But after a few hours the ship moves faster, oh dear, never mind, keep doing it at least there is a few hours respite. You could always do nothing and hope for the best. Wouldn’t it be amazing if you could gain some control of the vessel, maybe change course, or guide it safely through a storm, not crash into rocks, manoeuvre it into a port. Better or worse?
Adam and Daniel are in Malaga for a swift holiday.
Classical music mix on radio 3, half an hour every day with half a dozen or so pieces of music from all aspects of the art. Today I tried to identify approximately (ie within 25-50 years) the date each piece was written, just from listening. Some are straightforward, for instance, Bach or Mozart, but many are complex. One, for example, hinted at early medieval, choral chanting, but it sounded too modern which would mean quite modern not, for instance 1927. Anyway, with a little self geared latitude, I managed to approximate them all. Good game, try again tomorrow.
Quandary. I’m in the Co-op and the mouthwash I usually get (cheapest) was out of stock, the others were an eye-watering £4-5 quid. I know fuck that for diluted toothpaste. So, made my own. Most recepies suggest baking soda however, as I use this in conjunction with white vinegar to clean drains, I thought nah. So made one with apple cider vinegar and mint, tastes totally dissimilar to any mouthwash I know of but, it costs nothing, does the job, so it stays. Also made batch loads of mushy peas and gravy.
Yep, the bait pumping is turning out very good, not so good is the fishing if the platform at Old Colwyn. First, after a great start to the season the last three or four day sessions have been trousers. Second, it is getting popular, which means frequented by people, which is a yalloping no-no. Therefore, I will persist (always a sound method when it comes to sea fishing) but, probably, not during the day; late evening maybe, or very early morning. Tell you what, I can’t wait to drop some of my lug over the side at Holyhead, or even the inland sea.
Always been economical, try to do stuff myself and hyper-aware about letting money seep without it contributing to the benefit of me. Such a lack of thought and, well, lies and self-deception, regarding the acquisition of money; this mirrors, I think, how little focus people have about what they are doing. I’ve said it many times but I hated working for money and my plan was always FIRE. So, I wasn’t going to let the good stuff be marketed off me. Therefore the little things add up. Fishing bait for sea = mackerel £3.75 (usually catch my own) squid £4 (use it sparingly) lungworm and ragworm £3.50/£4.50 (use quite a bit of it. It’s the last one that costs, so, I’ve got a bait pump and had a go when I got here 4 years ago but now, when I’m exclusively sea, it’s time to have another bash. Of course the YouTubers make it look a piece of piss and it isn’t. First job then fix the pump. I’ve tried before and failed but this time -using home-made flipflop washers I did it. First time out I actually got a few nice worms and, today, I got a wrap in a short period of time. And it was fun.
Haven’t really mentioned the room and, in it, the elephant. Since last April – so over a year now – we have been trying to adjust to Carol’s stage 4 lung cancer. The adrenal metastatic has not responded to treatment and we are now going through the tests to ascertain if surgery is feasible. Either option ie surgery or not, is very serious and of late Carol has been feeling quite unwell. Some of the appointments are in Wales but most now are in Liverpool where I am now writing this, tough days.
Started sea-walking (aka paddling) so, I nip down to the beach on the bike – it’s Sunday so watch the daytrippers – park up and walk in the sea knee-high for about half a mile. Wow do you feel good after that!
Pleased to say the heaviness in my legs seems to have gone. I think obviously it was/is due to genetic varicose veins which I have had since my late teens, they aren’t normally bothersome apart from the aesthetic consideration but, lately they have become more of a problem. Maybe, although I walk daily, it is not quite as much as I am used to because Carol is limited. So I’ve been supplementing this and yoga with calf raises, also, a couple of days back I had a paddle in the sea which was lovely and will be repeated. So I went to Holyhead, it’s a good walk, and on the way back I was striding out like a good ‘un, could have walked over the Orme without bother.
Pleasant weekend, the weather here is amazing, feels and looks like holiday vibe everyday. Katie visited for a couple of nights, great to see her, all my kids are doing very nicely.
So I went back. This time with mackerel and, yes, plenty of dogs, always good sport on light sea tackle. Nothing down the side yet but I did have a nice pollack.
Wasn’t sure whether or not to go. Since Holyhead last Thursday my legs, specifically the right one, has been a bit heavy. Even though I reckon my diet is excellent and I get a fair bit of exercise in my varicose veins are getting worse. Not that bothered with the appearance but I can’t have them aching so, sooner than not, I intend to get them seen to. Anyway, 6ish and, of course, I did go, fishing that is, to the platform. And there was someone there already. Turns out I’m glad there was because, although I only brought mackerel gear, the bloke next door was pulling doggies out so I thought, hello, this could be fun. I only had a couple of scrappy lug but I got one and tomorrow I will be back with fish baits. Like whiting in winter, dogfish are frowned on by some sea anglers who, I think, regard not catching the right type of fish as a successful day out.
1st of May, gorgeous weather and off to Holyhead. Bites and wrasse from the off, grand sport on very light tackle, tried the bigger baits and sabikis further out but only a doggie. Bit far to travel but great when you get there (still miss the pier tbh)
There are changes going on in the world, biggish ones, then again, there always is. The supersized change is one that has effectively been assimilted into the ideological norm and, as such, is no longer a mainstream narrative, if it ever was. People are malnourished. Just look. Ultra processed western food and the meta-socialisation fused into its consumption (Just Eat) is the biggest change in recent world history. It kills you eventually. But before that it changes how you think, how you feel, how you act and, of course, how you look. Eventually it will introduce you to its closest friend, the pharmaceutical economy. This will be quicker than you think, you are probably already taking something, maybe your children are taking meds for ADHD. If you have to take a trip to hospital, book early.
Started making ice cream again, three ingredients, properly delicious. Oh and I’ve started pickling, the red cabbage was great and I’ve done some peppers.
Daytrip to Holyhead for a spot of wrasse fishing. Bit uhmming and ahhing as it is still early in the season and, with things as they are, I haven’t been doing as much cardio as I would like. Needn’t have bothered about either as the walk was pleasant and comfortable – about 4 miles either way with tackle, and the wrasse were on from the start. Had a quick go for the mackerel but stuck with the ballans, new rigs worked an absolute treat.
If I was inclined it is likely I would pass a grade 4 classical level guitar exam, maybe with extra effort a 5. In addition I can play some blues, some jazz, some chord melody pieces you would recognise and, at the moment, some bluegrass flat picking. If I was inclined I could probably join a group – or form one – and perform live. And all this without a morcel of originality. Can’t write songs, can’t write music.. yet, I expect, you would refer to me as a guitarist or even a musician. Is it the same with art? Is it buggery. I don’t trace, I don’t use artificial methods, I hardly even use ruler or orbital formers. All by hand, pencil, charcoal, brush. I am inspired by other (original) artists and I replicate their work through my eyes and hands. I have done work of my own and will do more in the future but, mainly, I get motivated by the work of others… yet, would you call me an artist, you better.
Literally hundreds of millions of words, countless blurbings of advice, every generation thousands squared, philosophy, religion, ideology, politics, all aiming to put you on the path of leading a good human life. Well here’s something from me…stop eating crap processed food, it makes you feel bad and will make you ill; ultimately it knocks years off your life but, by then, you shouldn’t really care. Now fuck off I’m busy.
Beautiful day, where to go? so much choice. Decided on a stroll up the side of the Great Orme, walking past the wall where I’m going to try a session or two evening fishing maybe this coming week. Got to say I feel really fit and healthy, 65+ and not on anything, no ailments, doing all the stuff I want to and need to do. I have now virtually eradicated ultra processed food from my diet, this means some of the produce people take for granted, like store bought bread, anything in a jar, spreads etc obviously no crisps, snacks or drinks. If I want a pizza I’ll make it myself, base and topping, I buy good quality cheese, make my own sauces (apart from an odd splash of 🌶 and I eat a lot (oh yes) of fruit, vegetables, legumes, nuts and beans. Well, there ya go!
Time, health and money. Regardless of situation these are the three big bags of life, other stuff is very important (like football) but the peripherals are as seasoning to the meat. Question is which – time, health, money – takes up most of our effort, nurture and worry and which one do we leave behind.
Even though sea fishing from the shore is not great at this time of year I braved the early morning cold and managed to avoid the blank again.
Walk to the top of the Bryn, took a couple of pics of the ancient ruins for a pen and watercolour sketch, and listened to bluegrass music there and back.
Step Inside Love by Paul is another masterpiece song from one of his golden periods. The chords aren’t in my Beatles Complete because, I don’t think, they ever did it. It was a song he wrote for his mate Cilla and she did it justice because she was a soulful singer. Let’s have a look at YouTube then, bloke who got the guitar part bang on reckons it was a bit tricky which, I suppose, it is. However, just watching him a couple of times I identified all the full chords – including dominant and minor 7ths – all the triads including the inversions. Got to say I’m pretty chuffed.
On the subject of songs I don’t write anything but can play a few and even put a tentative slap of my own onto them. For instance I worked out a chord melody arrangement for Ticket to Ride which I like. Quite obviously I’m not trying to state a speck of originality with it other than the pleasure, and solid satisfaction of being able to do it. With the drawing and painting though I always feel that, rather than admitting inspiration, I have a tinge that some may say it’s copying. Well it’s not, it’s my drawing from the original and my painting…people do it in galleries all the time. One of the French impressionist said that before you can do anything original you need to become technically competent, that’s where the work is.
Good couple of walks, nothing massive but some elevation as Carol, commendably, wanted to try something a little like she could easily do pre-diagnosis.
Further to the last post, many times I’ve wondered why I haven’t connected with great classical music well, obviously, it is my failing and I’ve tried to rectify it numerous times over decades. For whatever reason, state of mind being high on the list, I am being transposed (a more accurate description than merely enjoying) by Schubert. What a sensation, and so exhilarating to think that this can happen.
Listening to a lot of music, more than I have ever done, different genres and some new stuff. Quick word on the new stuff, it all sounds great and is obviously very well produced, the songs are usually well constructed and it is pleasing to listen to, but, there isn’t something there. When I listen to other stuff, for example Stevie Wonder from the 70s – which is new to me – it gets to you on a different, better way. Oh the reason I’m listening to so much is I’ve got the streaming service Tidal, really impressed.
Had a couple of days out, indoor bowling at Prestatyn, good fun, and a walk from Llandudno to Deganwy. We go for a decent walk every day but this was a bit further, obviously no problem for me but a bit more of a challenge for Carol, she is doing very well.
Although the fishing is poor all along the coast (it’s February) the tide and weather looked good for a few hours. Lovely evening all round but no bites…well apart from the last cast when I got a new species, a 5 bearded rocking.
The myth of Sisyphus, like Portuguese Fado music, depends upon how you take it. If a cowed over Christian, or one of the 9 million people in the UK who are on prescribed antidepressants, it can comfortably be taken as a right bleeding downer. However. What about. Here is a bloke who, everyday, gets to roll a massive boulder down a mountain – people would pay to see that – then, he has a lovely stroll, all downhill, on a nice day. At the bottom he feels a bit listless, like life is a bit too easy, so he would like something to do and, if possible get a bit of exercise as well…nowthen. Before he sets off he sees around him all the people who can’t be bothered, he shrugs and wonders why. Halfway up – it’s tough but he is enjoying it – people are tumbling down around him, giverupers, he shrugs and wonders why.
Indirectly I have acquired the music streaming service Tidal and it is very good indeed, listening to all sorts of stuff and I woke up this morning as eager as an electric lemon. Fortunately I have a pair of good headphones which makes familiar tunes sound like they have been polished, but even through a basic plug in speaker the quality is great. Next step , a new laptop and a pair of quality desktops.
A snippet from a couple of days ago. Bloke in America driving his truck, heard a song on the radio, Carole King, It’s Too Late. He had never heard this song before and it got to him. He pulled over and cried heavily. Now there are literally millions of new songs produced, many of them tuneful, well sung and nicely produced, however, there is an ingredient which is very real that has to be there to create an effect like this. I believe a class of human beings, regardless of any other considerations, have reception capacity to connect with certain artistic creations that transcend. And then there is a tiny fragment of individuals who can create the art (it could take any form) The ingredient is real and of true value, it is the reason for living for many. I tried to unravel this thought in my PhD.
Two days in Alvaston hall spa and, have to say, thoroughly enjoying it. Same group as Bodelwyddan (Warner) but different class all round – or is it me, not sure. Anyway pleasant train journey here, great old hotel, very good pool area with sauna and trimmings and edible food. Yep, turned me blog into a third rate travel guide, might as well have a photo…
Eremition: the act of gradually fading from the lives of others, not out of malice but a desire for solitude or renewal.
Watching Old Grey Whistle Test on YouTube and clicked on Dire Straights. Big band in the 80s but I never liked them. A main reason for this is honesty or, perhaps more accurately, genuineness. Now, when I heard bands singing about American stuff like Chevvies or diners (Thin Lizzy ugh!) I instantly turned off. Similarly, a band like The Clash – who were gods to me – when they started singing about Spanish politics then goodbye. Why do they do it, don’t really care I’ll listen to bands like Supergrass instead, they’d never do that. Anyway the point is that I listened to Sultans of Swing which still is regarded as a decent bit of guitar work. Until quite recently his technique and licks would have been a mystery to me, not any more. First find the key, most of the licks and the starting chord is in Dmin with the major being F. Play the scales and the arrpegios and you have almost all you need to work it out, and I did. Not every bit of it but, in quarter of an hour, the nuts and bolts of the playing, fingerpicking required of course, quite pleased.
I would have been about twelve or so, and I remember it clearly. Saturday morning, the rugby team was playing some grammar school team (we were a comprehensive and always got slaughtered) and I had to get up, get my kit, get the bus, and get shit up and humiliated. My bed was nice and warm and I was just starting a new H.G.Wells, fuck ’em. About an hour or so later the door banged, Russell Morgan or Brian Gardner – with the rest of the team in the minibus outside – knocking me up. I felt like they had stolen my time. So many times I’ve had that feeling since that it became a normal condition. Gradually, by circumstance and practice, the feeling is drifting off, like detritus. It’s now just gone six in the morning, Jan 21, fishing this evening (followed by footy) guitar practice and art before that, done my yoga, time for a brew and a read. Try knocking on my door now see what you get.
Just found a photo from 2019 when I did the 10k in Manchester, trained for it as I had never properly run in my life, always hated it although I can trek and hike or ride a bike alright. I did it in just over an hour (if I recall) don’t do a massive amount of cardio atm but I intend to pick it up again asap.
Learning Bossa Nova guitar, as well as the other music theory stuff. It is a cool thing, the blues is alright but it has been done to death since the 60s, and I really don’t think it’s got better since the early delta/Texas/Mississipi stuff. But the Bossa Nova is just great to play, if you know about chord progressions all music is a lot easier to understand and, if you understand it it is much, much easier. One thing I have learned from it is tritone substitution. Essentially this is a dominant V a triton down and it is a cool resolution to cadence, gonna practice some more!
“It’s easier to fool a person than convince one that they have been fooled”
Been doing some pen and ink sketches which I think are alright, they are in the sketchbook page. As I’ve argued countless times it is the doing of a thing that matters together with the practice. Is it enough to just to get up, eat, piss and shit, fuck, watch a screen, sleep and rinse/repeat? Well for many the answer is yes. That isn’t a harsh view. For trillions of people past and billions now, to be able to do those things in peace and comfort is a high bar. But now, in affluence, it is, I believe, wasteful in extremis not to attempt a creative endeavour that fits your personality. At the end of your life the regret of it may be your last thought.
Got a session in. Tide high at half eightish, three quarter moon, calm, bites nearly from the off, missed loads of good bites, but managed a good number of decent whiting and a dab.
Here we go. Thinking about another session at Old Colwyn, I could go to Holyhead, however, the reality is that in winter you are going to catch whiting. Now I like catching whiting, on tackle as light as possible it is good fun, well I think it is. Holyhead is good for herring – never caught one – so the species list would gain a click, so I might go on a nice day, it is a lovely day out for me on the train and a good walk so, yeah might do. The majority of my fishing time is spent at home, making rigs, thinking about methods, watching Youtube etc which is a very good thing and, come to think of it, it’s the reason why I’ve gone over to sea fishing.
Michael Leo Parker 