As some of you probably got from my “Changing Down” thread, I’ve been having a slightly rough time of it lately. Started doing the whole therapy thing (so far very interesting: made a lot of connections that have helped me understand perhaps why I am the way I am). However, I’m still a bit bloody miserable a lot of the time and so I’m trying to focus on good things. Some of these are easy:
1) my kids are amazing and every minute I spend with them, the black clouds dissolve utterly.
2) Thea Gilmore tweeted me that she loves my band’s sound today.
3) I might get a new job one day soon.
4) I’m out with a really good friend on Friday. Can’t wait.
5) I bought a new piano. It’s a Nord and has lots of squelchy synths onboard too. It gets a couple of hours’ use every day.
6) The woman I love is utterly remarkable and I’m far luckier to have her than I deserve.
1) 2 dogs that want letting out, feeding, walking, feeding, stroking, feeding, etc.
2) A grandson who will be walking and talking soon. Then I can get him started on Thunderbirds, Laurel & Hardy and Pinky & Perky. I will wait until he is older (2) before I start him on Prog.
3) There is always a charity shop/auction with records I have never heard of. I have started picking up books too. Why did nobody tell me they could be so much fun?
I always feel a bit down at the end of the summer. The winter here is boring. This year is worse because I crashed my car (my fault). Will cost a fortune that I can’t afford to mend, so it’s bike from now on. And as I live in the countryside that won’t be much fun. I won’t be able to get to my gym/pool. Which is a real bummer as that’s what I enjoy most. I’m feeling homesick and wish I could afford to live in UK right now, but I can’t. And even if I could I’m sure the wrather would get me down even more. I have no loving parner or lovely kids to cheer me up. Although I’m not sure I’d consider myself “depressed” (more “bored” really) I can’t think of any reasons to be cheerful.
Best wishes, Gary – hope things start looking up soon. Try to find some sort of alternative exercise, because being deprived of those endorphins won’t help your mood.
Very sorry to hear you’ve been in the wars, Gary. Hope you are now on the mend. I recommend you hire a few movies. That’s what tends to keep me going. A bright spot in my week.
I’m sure a week or two in England in November would soon cure your homesickness and have you screaming to get back to Italy.
Many of us on this thread are (quite rightly) saying how wonderful our kids are. But it’s two-sided coin. Although I could not live without my family, I certainly often find it a struggle to live with them. We all drive each other mad half the time. Family life is a battle field.
24 hours in my own company or with pals is the greatest luxury I can imagine.
Well, Jim and KFD, you are, of course, welcome to your own opinions – and good for you for expressing them so frankly in a public forum – but I’d like to be the first to distance myself from your bizarre child-loathing pronouncements.
While most may adhere to the conventional contemporary morality of loving one’s own progeny, I find it refreshing (albeit despicable) that the pair of you have felt comfortable enough to admit to the assembled your sick feelings of frustration and rage at your respective offspring.
I’d like to take a moment to salute your misguided candor, and also to remind everyone that expressing these sorts of views on the internet can be both an enormous salve, as well as a tremendous opportunity to get to know your local social services better.
Now, if anyone would like to hear a story about Bingo Jnr being an irrepressible little angel in a manner that involved only minor property damage, you’ll be able to find it further down the thread….
Thanks, KFD. You’re a kind soul. I’ve been feeling very down recently, which I think has been a chemical reaction to going from extreme activity (gym + pool every day) to extreme inactivity (lying in bed recuperating). As Bingo says, the sudden deprivation of endorphines is not a good thing for a mood already darkened by thoughts of self loathing (the crash was entirely my own stupid fault), solitude (I usually like living alone, but it’s not so pleasant with a fractured vertebrae) and poverty (again, entirely my fault). But like Bob, I also feel the need for drastic change in my life before I get too old. I must say, Mr Saucecraft’s life appeals enormously right now.
If it’s any help, Burt has broadly given you his present location, and some helpful descriptors to enable you to really zero in on him. This would probably be an optimal moment for a well-planned identity theft….
Blimey Bingo! you’re a devious fiend. Everything is turning into a Hitchcock movie or a Ruth Rendell novel. Strangers on a thread? You be careful Gary! The charming Mr Little could turn out to be a Ripley. Perhaps he’s got an art heist planned in Italy and for some reason needs to be you?
1. I’ll spare you all the nauseating details, but… wife and kids.
2. I spent the whole of last week in Cornwall with my youngest brother. We surfed five hours a day, went running on the cliff tops, visited amazing restaurants and watched some decent movies in the quiet moments. We’ve been visiting Cornwall since we were little kids, and more than once I found myself being swamped with feelings of pure joy at being able to spend this time with someone I love dearly, doing stuff I love to do, in a place I love to do it. There is no better feeling in life than watching the sun go down from the top of a bobbing surfboard, physically exhausted and deciding whether or not to catch that final wave in to shore. I’m in a happy reverie this week, even though I’m back at work.
3. This touch, from Mesut Ozil: http://www.trollfootball.me/display.php?id=65583
Boring football, I know. There’s been a lot of talk on the blog recently about what constitutes “entertainment” in the game. I’d pay the price of admission to see a touch like that – I’ll be spending the rest of this week dreaming about being able to bring a ball down that way, under pressure.
4. Another old, dear friend of mine has just told me he’s expecting his first kid. If anyone has ever been made to be a dad, it’s him – absolutely made up for him.
Honestly, one thing that always makes me count my blessings is taking a long walk. Not for the meditative benefits of it but simply to remind myself how good it feels to be able to do so at all. I used to know someone who was paralysed in a motorbike accident at the age of 18 and once heard one of his rehab buddies saying that he would crawl through 8 football fields of shit if he would be able bodied at the end of it. No one there disagreed with him – they’d all have done it, and in his position so would I.
I broke a vertebrae in my back when I crashed my car. Had to spend most of August laid up in bed. Feeling much better now and it’s sure given me a renewed appreciation of the value of being able-bodied.
1. My wife and kids. After a crappy day at work, they make it all worthwhile, and bring a smile to my face.
2. I’ve just started coaching my son’s football team. We had our first coaching session yesterday. Its a group of 8 five/six year olds, so we aren’t using a lot of formations and tactics, but to see the kids have fun was a joy. I think I may have lost my voice though.
3. The weather is getting a bit cooler here in Houston after the dog days of summer, so its much nicer being outside.
4. I was sitting outside in my back garden on Saturday watching the kids play, relaxing with a nicely chilled glass of wine, hearing the birds sing. A simple delight.
Being a glass-half-full kind of a chap, I don’t always think about why I’m feeling good about things. So you’ve made me think – and that doesn’t happen much these days. So here are a few:
1. We’ve just done a road trip – Sussex/York/Buxton/Llandudno/Ludlow/Sussex – and really enjoyed some wonderful countryside. York is lovely and the wife’s cousin who lives there is pregnant and blooming, so that’s very life affirming. The Peak District was so much more scenic and impressive than I had ever thought. As North Wales skirts the irish Sea , its castles keep surprising and delighting you. Shropshire too was entrancing and bucolically rural with its orchards full of fruit.
2. I’m still here and surviving, which becomes a more major achievement each year.
3. I take more and more pleasure from simple things, so the fact that the garden is still full of colour and not yet a leaf strewn battlefield gives me a real sense of contentment.
I’m with @davidks, the simple things often give the most pleasure.
1 and 2: Mrs Beezer and her equally forthright little doppelganger. They say they love me and that’s good enough
3. Our house. It’s rubbish inside. 25 year old bathroom fittings, grubby and outdated. Knackered kitchen. Pointless chimney breast makes 2 of the bedrooms oddly shaped. Too small by far. God, it’s great to put the key in the front door lock after another day at f**king work.
4. Standing up for myself. Work is a pain in the arse. I work in a place where everyone has too much to do. My current job I was press-ganged into when a swathe of folk took the chance of a pay-off to leave to meet departmental cut targets. I’m now doing 3 roles – none of which suit me. Technical and Financial Management. I took them on because I’m a nice guy. Now I’m hacked off and quite enjoying saying no.
I’ve not really been away. I read most of the blog in a lurky fashion. It’s more that I have nothing remotely diverting to say at the moment. This may have a lot to do with my No. 4 above.
I’m quite well. Not in any distress. Just devoid of repartee
1) Doctor Who.
2) A decent bottle of red.
3) Kids – both at secondary school now – flowering into fine people.
4) Chats with my wife (currently on a PGCE course) about teaching, which serve to remind me why I do it.
5) Doctor Who.
6) Learning to fence – sabre – getting better all the time. Charging down the piste walloping people with a sword is very therapeutic.
7) Peanut butter and marmite on toast.
8) Did I mention Doctor Who?
9) Curry.
10) My cat. He is bloody hilarious.
I’m grateful for a lot of stuff – I am well settled professionally, and I’m where I want to be in my rugby universe. My son lives hundreds of miles from me, and is 11 – his growing independent streak means his desire to FaceTime Daddy is diminishing, which saddens me a bit.
The thing that gets me through the bad days is my girlfriend; I just became her bidey-in. Compressing two households and vacating my old apartment was hard work, and difficult. Adjusting to living with each other is a journey of adventure and learning. But never once has she been anything other than wonderful. Thoughtful, compassionate, helpful, and encouraging; solicitous and caring. I also think she’s an incredibly beautiful woman.
Much like Bob, I feel very very lucky. And secure, and loved. And you can’t put a price on that.
Well apart from the obvious things like Family and Wales winning at Rugby?
Nature….Several times, walking across fields on a cold, clear, early sunny spring morning I have been struck by genuinely, transcendental happiness. I have that feeling that I could die then and there and still be grateful to be allowed by eternity to exist at that very moment.
Listening to Caravan’s second album, The Campfire Headphase by BoC, or A Walk Across The Rooftops by The Blue Nile in an unlit room as dusk creeps in.
Not wanting to let myself down, or those who invested so much time, love and care in me. I frequently fail but never stop trying.
Seeing my niece and nephews fulfil themselves and be happy.
Today, more specifically it’s hoping that Ireland go on and win the World Cup, though if they play as lamely as they did yesterday they’ll be done for.
Do you know, I’m not sure. Momentum, probably; I’m terrified of losing it and never being able to pick it up again.
Here’s a nice thing though. My daughter came back from university this weekend, mainly to go to a friend’s 18th birthday party. However, she also suggested that we could go out to dinner together. Which we did and it was lovely. Thing is, she’s spent the last 10 years avoiding being seen with me in public, so I’m seeing this as a turn for the better…
.I’m just about to finish a mindfulness course which has taught me how to sit with difficult stuff and use it positiveIy. My headspace is full of ideas and creativity but I’m not great at getting it out. Hence my sparsely populated blog… I do have a special person who gets me and I like to share my stuff but we never have enough time for it all. I mostly live inside my head and thankfully, I love it. I’m happy, for the most part, on my own, contemplating my navel.
My only child, a beautiful 24 year old girl, moved to London at the end of last year. My heart is still sore from missing her but I’m getting used to not seeing her and not speaking with her every day. When we do chat, she rocks my world. She’s coming home for a week in November and I’m beyond excited. She makes me very happy.
I’m turning 50 soon and am compiling my life in music, which I will share online for 50 days, finishing on my actual birthday. I’m loving the journey. Ofcourse, it’s still all in my head…. I Hope I thrive on the challenge of getting it out, every day. I bloody love music.
I’m a sucker for physical activity, always have been. I’m going through a bit of a purple patch just now. Older but still as competitive, I’m chasing down the numbers and it’s making me happy.
Despite recent challenges at work, I love my job. I try my best to make a difference. It keeps me turning up, with a smile, every day.
Lovely post, Bob. Thea has good taste – I like the sound of your band too. I should tell you that more often.
Bingo, I think we were just a few miles from each other, last week. We had 2 weeks in Padstow, had amazing weather, ate some spectacular food (Paul Ainsworth’s Number 6 is serving some of the best food you will ever eat – and we got invited into the kitchen, he knew who we were (we are vocal on Twitter about great restaurants) and was absolutely lovely.)
I’ve had a couple of wobbles this year, my mental health has tapped me on the shoulder a couple of times. I really needed that holiday. Then, on my 59th birthday, fuelled by a bottle of great champagne I’d been saving, sitting on a bench by the outer harbour wall, my gorgeous wife and I had the big conversation. Over two hours we talked about retirement, mental health, the future and where we might end up. And I felt the weight lifted, for a while. We spent the next few days walking the old town, the bit most people don’t see, of this lovely town. North Cornwall has been my holiday destination for most of my adult life but I never dreamed of retiring there. Now, if I can stick another 3 or 4 years of the 180 mile daily commute, work on my pension and shares, I really think we might make it work.
Last year, outside The Shipwrights Pub in Padstow, I was sat having a pint and a guy came and sat opposite. We got talking. He had retired a year before, sold up in the Midlands, moved down just outside of town, and settled. His wife is 10 years younger than him (so is mine), so she has found a job, 4 days a week. That income tops up his small company pension, while he waits a couple of years for his state pension to kick in. He was tanned, lean and fit. He looked just about the happiest man I’d ever met. “Most mornings I just walk over the fields, along the cliff top, come into town, get my paper and sit outside one of the pubs. I’ll make a couple of pints last 2 hours, especially if I get chatting to some nice people. It’s brilliant.” I shook his hand and left, but I have thought about him often.
As Jan and I strolled back to our rented cottage, after seemingly planning out the rest of our lives, energised and excited, we past the Shipwrights. I smiled and said to Jan, “Remember me telling you about that bloke, last year.” She squeezed my hand. “I’ve never forgotten it,” she said. And, as we rounded the corner, there he was, sitting outside, rolling a fag, nattering to a holiday maker and nursing a pint. “That’s him,” I whispered. She looked at him and grinned at me. “That’ll be you, too.”
I went back to work today. I am going to find a way to make this happen, sooner rather than later. I’m not stupid, I’m also famously careful with money, so I’m not going to do anything silly. But I HAVE to do this.
So, young Bob. Keep hold of those you love most. Find the good in each day and focus on that. Make time for you. And keep making your lovely music. It gives a lot of people so much pleasure. There is no better gift.
This put a real smile on my face. I was indeed in Polzeath last week, right round the corner from where you were. As has long been a tradition amongst my brothers and I, we began each day with a run across the beach and along the cliffs to Rock, for breakfast at the Blue Tomato, staring over the water at Padstow. With the tide out, you could virtually walk across.
I’ve been going to North Cornwall with my family since I was 8 years old. As far as I’m concerned, it’s god’s own country, and I’m never more relaxed than when I’m there and in the sea. We’re already trying to work out how we can make these surf pilgrimages a little more often (there’s a couple of weeks a year in summer with the entire extended family all under one roof, but it’s not enough), and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t occasionally considered simply packing it all in, upping sticks, moving down there and surfing every morning the waves would allow.
On this most recent trip there was a middle aged man out on a board with his three teenage lads. Sun coming down across the water, all four of them mucking about together. He looked as happy and fulfilled as anyone I can ever recall seeing. He wasn’t a bad surfer either.
I say go for it, Niall. It sounds like it’s the place that makes you happy, and life is for the living. I may well end up joining you in due course.
Lots of reasons for me…permanently happy (and amazed) that I’ve ended up in Oz of all places with a wonderful woman who keeps me on my toes in all sorts of ways. Healthier and fitter than I’ve been for decades, what with walking, no booze, gardening and going to the gym twice a week (the irony that this is mostly happening because I have a life-threatening disease is something I ponder often).
Above all, my son came out for a couple of weeks recently. I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much quality time with him. Sometimes we talked and talked, sometimes we walked and didn’t talk, sometimes we just read in companionable silence. And it was great, and we gave him a great holiday. We haven’t always had the most comfortable of relationships, for one reason or another – nothing too dramatic, just not much to say to each other (especially since his mother died), and I feel very happy that we’ve moved on.
A good friend of mine has been getting more and more health problems over the last year, to the point where she just expects to feel ill all of the time. I met her last Wednesday and she looked really sick, could barely breathe and complained about a swollen leg, but when I said that she should go to the ER she claimed that she could wait because she had a scheduled doctor’s appointment a week later.
I gave her a long speech with a few worst case scenarios thrown in to scare her, and in the end she promised to go in as soon as possible.
A few days later she called me from the hospital, turns out that she had a thrombosis in her leg, two in her lungs and heart fibrillation and had been admitted immediately when she got there Thursday morning.
I’m glad I managed to convince her to take it seriously, I’m very happy that she’s alive (though still very weak) and I’m thankful that my own health is good – and I’m VERY happy that my back sorted itself out completely after in total three weeks of increasing torture, so happy that I find myself dancing while I do my chores at home, just because I can.
My lovely dad wanted to see his kids enjoying his money while he was still alive and well, so he gave us part of our inheritance in advance. Well, there’s six of us and he’s no Donald Trump, so it’s not a fortune exactly, but it has allowed us to buy/do a few things that our normal budgets wouldn’t cover.
I’ve been replacing everything that’s been falling apart lately…a phone, a watch, a good camera, a new printer, and my teeth… And after that I’ve spent the rest on art: one Pencilsqueezer commission and a couple of small pieces of photographic art from the Affordable Artfair this weekend.
Dad’s very pleased every time one of us calls him to tell him of another thing his money bought us!
I had a fantastic day with my sister this Saturday, we took a five hour long walk all over Stockholm in the wonderful weather. Talking both in-depth serious stuff and complete bollocks. Taking lots of beautiful autumn nature photos with my great new camera. Next week I’m taking another long walk with one of my other sisters – it’s really fantastic being sisters, and the older you get the better it gets.
And the usual stuff: music, books and cooking. Three things tailor made for autumn (my favourite time of year, so that in itself gets me out of bed and feeling cheerful).
– Wife and kids being utterly scrumptious while simultaneously doing my head in natch 🙂
– Newly acquired rickenbacker (see profile pic) that has me at least convinced I sound like Roger Mcguinn
– Rugby World Cup thus far (though it could all get messy when we face the Aussies on Saturday)
– Realising I’ve only really dipped my toes into Neil Young’s back catalogue. So much more to explore
Good stuff, bad stuff. Can’t have one without the other. Wouldn’t be living the lovely if I hadn’t surfed the black wave; which will probably rise again in its own good time.
As a kid, I used to think grown-ups had it made, grazing the warm, sunlit uplands. Learning that life gets tougher, and that you do too, is what nobody can teach you.
But this “place”, for all its niggles and nags, is one reason to be cheerful. Friends I’ve made but haven’t yet met. Teh lulz. Oh yes – teh lulz.
Life gets tougher as a grown up? Not my experience. Chief among my reasons to be cheerful is that I will never have to be in my mid teens again. Of course you could see this as accentuating that life is a one way trip, but that’s a price worth paying.
1. Discovering New York for the first time.
2. Rediscovering concerts again after a break.
3. Being sober for one year.
4. My beautiful 10 year old son who has empathy and humour in spades.
I like middle age. I’ve become less ambitious and less materialistic (although you could argue it’s a lot easier to say that when you’ve done and got a lot of stuff). I’m more content in my fifties than any other decade, I think. You get more delight from smaller pleasures that were always there, but you were always looking beyond them.
So my R to be C is being in the brief arc of weightlessness between the climb up and the inevitable glide downwards. The important thing is to know that you’re there and enjoy the view.
Little things make me cheerful. The big things are often so anticipated or require planning and/or effort that they are often a tiny bit of a let down. So the following things have made me cheerful recently:
– my 7 year old son insisting that we have a sleepover in the log cabin office in our garden on Friday. The smile on his face as we lay on the hard floor snuggled under a duvet was magical.
– the dog wagging her tail so hard when I get home that she is practically waving her back half.
– walking in the same place over the course of a year and seeing the changes the seasons bring.
– dinner out with friends
– text messages from my lovely wife when I’m at work feeling put upon reminding me that home is there at the end of the day.
– the sound system in my new car. It’s loud and good which makes the commute more than bearable.
– my daughters laugh. It’s just a really good, enjoying herself laugh. And it’s loud.
– my eldest son settling down into College. He likes it and his lecturers have told us he’s doing really well.
1. Wife and kids. Obviously. Although there are occasions when I could throttle the little buggers…
2. Travel. My job is rather dull, with lots of petty annoyances, but it does pay me enough to be able to travel to interesting places. So far this year, I’ve been to Paris, Dubai and the Kenyan coast, as well as shorter trips to a nearby lake, where we’ve camped, fallen asleep to the sounds of hippos snorting and watched giraffes and wildebeest run through our rented house’s garden. Next month I’m off to Kigali and Johannesburg.
I’ve just realised that comes across as boastful. It’s not, it’s just that I am fortunate to be in a position to do all that. I don’t want material goods, I just want to have interesting experiences. And that is what keeps me going.
As of today, lost three and a half stone since September 2014
Feeling fitter
Nobby & Angus
Long walks in Wells Wood (with or without Yellow-browed warblers)
Live football – not your TV bollocks
Not having to work unless I want to
Half Man Half Biscuit…
But most of all the most wonderful woman in the world.
The saintly Mrs KFD and the kids and our flat. No place like home. Even if it is over-full of books, DVDs, toys, robot spare parts and heaven knows what else.
Next a big thing . Both our kids are currently happy at school and in their different ways, slowly making progress. Both have teams of very dedicated teachers who to my astonishment seem to be rather fond of them.
Beautiful sunny days and autumn colours.
A local cinema five minutes walk away with an excellent repertoire and cheap prices. (Last weekend I won a ticket to see Natural Sciences, an Argentinian film which will be on my Best of 2015 list.)
An enormous forest 10 seconds from home. And an occasional dog that I can take for walkies.
Knowing a lot of nice people in our hood. One of my pals is a walking Encyclopedia on obscure Nordic jazz. Always a pleasure to run into him in the local square on the after-school run and have a natter.
The wit and knowledge of the AW community. Some comments can keep me smiling all day.
Finding a boxset of the Fast Show in our local charity shop.
Friends, several of whom will be coming over on Saturday as it’s my birthday. Sixty bloody two!
The bad news is that Mrs KFD is off to Barcelona for the weekend with some of her chums. The good news is that DuCool is hopefully coming and will doubtless be bringing a large pile of Dick’s Picks, atonal jazz and ambient Icelandic reggae. Everything’s bound to go with a swing.
Looking forward to tomorrow night as I am meeting Big Kelly for a beer or six… he’s been me best bud for over fifty (50!!) years and we hook up a couple of times a year. Coming over all Jeremy Beadle, what BK does not know that we are to be joined by McGillicudy, a good friend of both of us from the late 60’s/early 70’s. Now, due to geographical reasons, Big Kelly has neither seen nor spoken to McGillicuddy since 1982sh, and he has no idea that McG is in the vicinity…. promises to be a good night…..
1) ganglesprocklet turns two on Sunday. He is a happy, ebullient, joyous wee soul and I can’t quite believe that someone this lively, lovely and just wonderful came partly from me.
2) In about two weeks the contract for my current (awful) job will end. I took the job only because the appearance of sprocklet cracked my brain making me incapable of thought for about a year, and I figured I could do it on the three hours of sleep I was getting a night at the time. This was true. The problem was when I started to get a healthy amount of sleep again, I suddenly realized I was trapped in a shit job. I no longer am.
3) My old freelance clients have welcomed me with open arms again and I am booked till January.
4) Today I had an interview for something potentially actually brilliant.
5) My wife is a wonderful person who I dearly love.
6) I have a cd by Cymande on. If you’ve never heard them, this is brill. (They’ve reformed and are playing Kentish Town Forum in December. Can’t go probably, but that’s thanks to sprocklet, who I’d have over Cymande any day.)
1) Despite 5 (that’s FIVE) major wildfires in our county this year, including the third most destructive in California history, and two evacuations, we still have a roof over our head.
JustB says
As some of you probably got from my “Changing Down” thread, I’ve been having a slightly rough time of it lately. Started doing the whole therapy thing (so far very interesting: made a lot of connections that have helped me understand perhaps why I am the way I am). However, I’m still a bit bloody miserable a lot of the time and so I’m trying to focus on good things. Some of these are easy:
1) my kids are amazing and every minute I spend with them, the black clouds dissolve utterly.
2) Thea Gilmore tweeted me that she loves my band’s sound today.
3) I might get a new job one day soon.
4) I’m out with a really good friend on Friday. Can’t wait.
5) I bought a new piano. It’s a Nord and has lots of squelchy synths onboard too. It gets a couple of hours’ use every day.
6) The woman I love is utterly remarkable and I’m far luckier to have her than I deserve.
What’s getting you through the day at the mo?
ianess says
Bob; if you have 1) and 6) plus good health, then you’re rich beyond measure. No material bullshit can compare.
bricameron says
What’s your band? Do you need a drummer?
Beany says
What gets me out of bed in the morning?
1) 2 dogs that want letting out, feeding, walking, feeding, stroking, feeding, etc.
2) A grandson who will be walking and talking soon. Then I can get him started on Thunderbirds, Laurel & Hardy and Pinky & Perky. I will wait until he is older (2) before I start him on Prog.
3) There is always a charity shop/auction with records I have never heard of. I have started picking up books too. Why did nobody tell me they could be so much fun?
4) I might win the lottery this week.
James Blast says
What gets me outta bed is not having to get outta bed of a morning.
Beany says
Is that a riddle? I guess you sleep on the floor. In a coffin? In somebody else’s bed? It’s a bed but not a bed…a FLOWER BED! A meringue?
James Blast says
A FLOWER bed?
duhd dudhd – If you go down to Willow Farm…
minibreakfast says
Bob Dylan is getting me through today.
Come to think about it, he’s getting me through the year.
Gary says
I always feel a bit down at the end of the summer. The winter here is boring. This year is worse because I crashed my car (my fault). Will cost a fortune that I can’t afford to mend, so it’s bike from now on. And as I live in the countryside that won’t be much fun. I won’t be able to get to my gym/pool. Which is a real bummer as that’s what I enjoy most. I’m feeling homesick and wish I could afford to live in UK right now, but I can’t. And even if I could I’m sure the wrather would get me down even more. I have no loving parner or lovely kids to cheer me up. Although I’m not sure I’d consider myself “depressed” (more “bored” really) I can’t think of any reasons to be cheerful.
Bingo Little says
Best wishes, Gary – hope things start looking up soon. Try to find some sort of alternative exercise, because being deprived of those endorphins won’t help your mood.
Gary says
Thanks Bingo, you’re very kind. I’m hoping the cycling will be a substitute excercise as well as a necessity.
Sewer Robot says
Cor! Your local pool has endolphins in it. No wonder you miss it so much!
Kaisfatdad says
Very sorry to hear you’ve been in the wars, Gary. Hope you are now on the mend. I recommend you hire a few movies. That’s what tends to keep me going. A bright spot in my week.
I’m sure a week or two in England in November would soon cure your homesickness and have you screaming to get back to Italy.
Many of us on this thread are (quite rightly) saying how wonderful our kids are. But it’s two-sided coin. Although I could not live without my family, I certainly often find it a struggle to live with them. We all drive each other mad half the time. Family life is a battle field.
24 hours in my own company or with pals is the greatest luxury I can imagine.
Jim Cain says
Well said KFD. My kids are wonderful but they’re also sometimes a pain in the backside. Ha!
Bingo Little says
Well, Jim and KFD, you are, of course, welcome to your own opinions – and good for you for expressing them so frankly in a public forum – but I’d like to be the first to distance myself from your bizarre child-loathing pronouncements.
While most may adhere to the conventional contemporary morality of loving one’s own progeny, I find it refreshing (albeit despicable) that the pair of you have felt comfortable enough to admit to the assembled your sick feelings of frustration and rage at your respective offspring.
I’d like to take a moment to salute your misguided candor, and also to remind everyone that expressing these sorts of views on the internet can be both an enormous salve, as well as a tremendous opportunity to get to know your local social services better.
Now, if anyone would like to hear a story about Bingo Jnr being an irrepressible little angel in a manner that involved only minor property damage, you’ll be able to find it further down the thread….
Gary says
Thanks, KFD. You’re a kind soul. I’ve been feeling very down recently, which I think has been a chemical reaction to going from extreme activity (gym + pool every day) to extreme inactivity (lying in bed recuperating). As Bingo says, the sudden deprivation of endorphines is not a good thing for a mood already darkened by thoughts of self loathing (the crash was entirely my own stupid fault), solitude (I usually like living alone, but it’s not so pleasant with a fractured vertebrae) and poverty (again, entirely my fault). But like Bob, I also feel the need for drastic change in my life before I get too old. I must say, Mr Saucecraft’s life appeals enormously right now.
Bingo Little says
If it’s any help, Burt has broadly given you his present location, and some helpful descriptors to enable you to really zero in on him. This would probably be an optimal moment for a well-planned identity theft….
Gary says
Not a bad idea at all. Bingo. I wonder if his wife would mind a more handsome but far less witty replacement?
Bingo Little says
Burt and Gary, three weeks from now….
Kaisfatdad says
Blimey Bingo! you’re a devious fiend. Everything is turning into a Hitchcock movie or a Ruth Rendell novel. Strangers on a thread? You be careful Gary! The charming Mr Little could turn out to be a Ripley. Perhaps he’s got an art heist planned in Italy and for some reason needs to be you?
Bingo Little says
Me and Gary, three weeks ago….
Locust says
You were rehearsing a doo-wop number?
Bingo Little says
I’ve heard it called that….
Jim Cain says
1) We’re all dying from the moment we’re born.
2) Bargain booze
Bingo Little says
Sorry to hear that, Bob. Here are mine:
1. I’ll spare you all the nauseating details, but… wife and kids.
2. I spent the whole of last week in Cornwall with my youngest brother. We surfed five hours a day, went running on the cliff tops, visited amazing restaurants and watched some decent movies in the quiet moments. We’ve been visiting Cornwall since we were little kids, and more than once I found myself being swamped with feelings of pure joy at being able to spend this time with someone I love dearly, doing stuff I love to do, in a place I love to do it. There is no better feeling in life than watching the sun go down from the top of a bobbing surfboard, physically exhausted and deciding whether or not to catch that final wave in to shore. I’m in a happy reverie this week, even though I’m back at work.
3. This touch, from Mesut Ozil: http://www.trollfootball.me/display.php?id=65583
Boring football, I know. There’s been a lot of talk on the blog recently about what constitutes “entertainment” in the game. I’d pay the price of admission to see a touch like that – I’ll be spending the rest of this week dreaming about being able to bring a ball down that way, under pressure.
4. Another old, dear friend of mine has just told me he’s expecting his first kid. If anyone has ever been made to be a dad, it’s him – absolutely made up for him.
Jim Cain says
Bingo, you’re the yin to my yang.
Bingo Little says
The Fred to your Wes.
ianess says
The Fred West to your Rosemary.
H.P. Saucecraft says
What a charming picture you conjure, Ian!
ianess says
The family that lays together, stays together.
Bingo Little says
It wouldn’t have been a “reasons to be cheerful” thread without you sprinkling a little of your own inimitable sunshine around the place, Ian.
This yellow stuff is sunshine, right?
ianess says
There’s nothing more guaranteed to cause my misanthropy to surge.
niscum says
Honestly, one thing that always makes me count my blessings is taking a long walk. Not for the meditative benefits of it but simply to remind myself how good it feels to be able to do so at all. I used to know someone who was paralysed in a motorbike accident at the age of 18 and once heard one of his rehab buddies saying that he would crawl through 8 football fields of shit if he would be able bodied at the end of it. No one there disagreed with him – they’d all have done it, and in his position so would I.
Having an able-body is a wonderful thing.
Sewer Robot says
Great posts like this one⬆️
Gary says
I broke a vertebrae in my back when I crashed my car. Had to spend most of August laid up in bed. Feeling much better now and it’s sure given me a renewed appreciation of the value of being able-bodied.
pencilsqueezer says
No preamble.
The astounding kindness of friends.
Painting.
Autumnal light.
Bookshops.
The astounding kindness of strangers.
Twang says
I’n not especially cheerful. Grim necessity gets me moving.
Bingo Little says
Grim Necessity, the seminal 80s Thrash Metal band?
I’m totally with you, dude.
Gatz says
Afterword T-shirt slogans (front and back) right there.
davidks says
1. My wife and kids. After a crappy day at work, they make it all worthwhile, and bring a smile to my face.
2. I’ve just started coaching my son’s football team. We had our first coaching session yesterday. Its a group of 8 five/six year olds, so we aren’t using a lot of formations and tactics, but to see the kids have fun was a joy. I think I may have lost my voice though.
3. The weather is getting a bit cooler here in Houston after the dog days of summer, so its much nicer being outside.
4. I was sitting outside in my back garden on Saturday watching the kids play, relaxing with a nicely chilled glass of wine, hearing the birds sing. A simple delight.
Fifer says
Being a glass-half-full kind of a chap, I don’t always think about why I’m feeling good about things. So you’ve made me think – and that doesn’t happen much these days. So here are a few:
1. We’ve just done a road trip – Sussex/York/Buxton/Llandudno/Ludlow/Sussex – and really enjoyed some wonderful countryside. York is lovely and the wife’s cousin who lives there is pregnant and blooming, so that’s very life affirming. The Peak District was so much more scenic and impressive than I had ever thought. As North Wales skirts the irish Sea , its castles keep surprising and delighting you. Shropshire too was entrancing and bucolically rural with its orchards full of fruit.
2. I’m still here and surviving, which becomes a more major achievement each year.
3. I take more and more pleasure from simple things, so the fact that the garden is still full of colour and not yet a leaf strewn battlefield gives me a real sense of contentment.
I’m with @davidks, the simple things often give the most pleasure.
Beezer says
1 and 2: Mrs Beezer and her equally forthright little doppelganger. They say they love me and that’s good enough
3. Our house. It’s rubbish inside. 25 year old bathroom fittings, grubby and outdated. Knackered kitchen. Pointless chimney breast makes 2 of the bedrooms oddly shaped. Too small by far. God, it’s great to put the key in the front door lock after another day at f**king work.
4. Standing up for myself. Work is a pain in the arse. I work in a place where everyone has too much to do. My current job I was press-ganged into when a swathe of folk took the chance of a pay-off to leave to meet departmental cut targets. I’m now doing 3 roles – none of which suit me. Technical and Financial Management. I took them on because I’m a nice guy. Now I’m hacked off and quite enjoying saying no.
Jim Cain says
Reasons to be cheerful:
1) The return of Beezer!
Beezer says
What a pleasant thing to say. Thanks, Jim.
I’ve not really been away. I read most of the blog in a lurky fashion. It’s more that I have nothing remotely diverting to say at the moment. This may have a lot to do with my No. 4 above.
I’m quite well. Not in any distress. Just devoid of repartee
H.P. Saucecraft says
Beezer!
Poppy Succeeds says
Bingo Little says
Fantastic stuff.
Poppy Succeeds says
I’m grooving on the new, or newish, Ed Rush & Optical mix for Fabric.
I literally haven’t had this much fun with D&B since Wormhole came out.
timtunes says
Yep, that cheered me up
adman says
1) Doctor Who.
2) A decent bottle of red.
3) Kids – both at secondary school now – flowering into fine people.
4) Chats with my wife (currently on a PGCE course) about teaching, which serve to remind me why I do it.
5) Doctor Who.
6) Learning to fence – sabre – getting better all the time. Charging down the piste walloping people with a sword is very therapeutic.
7) Peanut butter and marmite on toast.
8) Did I mention Doctor Who?
9) Curry.
10) My cat. He is bloody hilarious.
Sitheref2409 says
I’m grateful for a lot of stuff – I am well settled professionally, and I’m where I want to be in my rugby universe. My son lives hundreds of miles from me, and is 11 – his growing independent streak means his desire to FaceTime Daddy is diminishing, which saddens me a bit.
The thing that gets me through the bad days is my girlfriend; I just became her bidey-in. Compressing two households and vacating my old apartment was hard work, and difficult. Adjusting to living with each other is a journey of adventure and learning. But never once has she been anything other than wonderful. Thoughtful, compassionate, helpful, and encouraging; solicitous and caring. I also think she’s an incredibly beautiful woman.
Much like Bob, I feel very very lucky. And secure, and loved. And you can’t put a price on that.
BigJimBob says
Well apart from the obvious things like Family and Wales winning at Rugby?
Nature….Several times, walking across fields on a cold, clear, early sunny spring morning I have been struck by genuinely, transcendental happiness. I have that feeling that I could die then and there and still be grateful to be allowed by eternity to exist at that very moment.
Listening to Caravan’s second album, The Campfire Headphase by BoC, or A Walk Across The Rooftops by The Blue Nile in an unlit room as dusk creeps in.
Dodger Lane says
Not wanting to let myself down, or those who invested so much time, love and care in me. I frequently fail but never stop trying.
Seeing my niece and nephews fulfil themselves and be happy.
Today, more specifically it’s hoping that Ireland go on and win the World Cup, though if they play as lamely as they did yesterday they’ll be done for.
Kid Dynamite says
today…
spending an hour discussing what might happen in next week’s Doctor Who with my daughter
finding out that I’d won a bluray of Fury Road
an email that says one of my stories has been accepted for an upcoming anthology
going out to see Mercury Rev in an old church tonight
Bingo Little says
It’s your world, KD, the rest of us just live in it.
Kid Dynamite says
Well, that is about six months worth of good things by my usual standards, but by chance they’ve all happened today. It’s going to be a bleak winter.
Lando Cakes says
Do you know, I’m not sure. Momentum, probably; I’m terrified of losing it and never being able to pick it up again.
Here’s a nice thing though. My daughter came back from university this weekend, mainly to go to a friend’s 18th birthday party. However, she also suggested that we could go out to dinner together. Which we did and it was lovely. Thing is, she’s spent the last 10 years avoiding being seen with me in public, so I’m seeing this as a turn for the better…
todayoutof10 says
.I’m just about to finish a mindfulness course which has taught me how to sit with difficult stuff and use it positiveIy. My headspace is full of ideas and creativity but I’m not great at getting it out. Hence my sparsely populated blog… I do have a special person who gets me and I like to share my stuff but we never have enough time for it all. I mostly live inside my head and thankfully, I love it. I’m happy, for the most part, on my own, contemplating my navel.
My only child, a beautiful 24 year old girl, moved to London at the end of last year. My heart is still sore from missing her but I’m getting used to not seeing her and not speaking with her every day. When we do chat, she rocks my world. She’s coming home for a week in November and I’m beyond excited. She makes me very happy.
I’m turning 50 soon and am compiling my life in music, which I will share online for 50 days, finishing on my actual birthday. I’m loving the journey. Ofcourse, it’s still all in my head…. I Hope I thrive on the challenge of getting it out, every day. I bloody love music.
I’m a sucker for physical activity, always have been. I’m going through a bit of a purple patch just now. Older but still as competitive, I’m chasing down the numbers and it’s making me happy.
Despite recent challenges at work, I love my job. I try my best to make a difference. It keeps me turning up, with a smile, every day.
Life’s ok really, thanks for asking chums ❤️
niallb says
Lovely post, Bob. Thea has good taste – I like the sound of your band too. I should tell you that more often.
Bingo, I think we were just a few miles from each other, last week. We had 2 weeks in Padstow, had amazing weather, ate some spectacular food (Paul Ainsworth’s Number 6 is serving some of the best food you will ever eat – and we got invited into the kitchen, he knew who we were (we are vocal on Twitter about great restaurants) and was absolutely lovely.)
I’ve had a couple of wobbles this year, my mental health has tapped me on the shoulder a couple of times. I really needed that holiday. Then, on my 59th birthday, fuelled by a bottle of great champagne I’d been saving, sitting on a bench by the outer harbour wall, my gorgeous wife and I had the big conversation. Over two hours we talked about retirement, mental health, the future and where we might end up. And I felt the weight lifted, for a while. We spent the next few days walking the old town, the bit most people don’t see, of this lovely town. North Cornwall has been my holiday destination for most of my adult life but I never dreamed of retiring there. Now, if I can stick another 3 or 4 years of the 180 mile daily commute, work on my pension and shares, I really think we might make it work.
Last year, outside The Shipwrights Pub in Padstow, I was sat having a pint and a guy came and sat opposite. We got talking. He had retired a year before, sold up in the Midlands, moved down just outside of town, and settled. His wife is 10 years younger than him (so is mine), so she has found a job, 4 days a week. That income tops up his small company pension, while he waits a couple of years for his state pension to kick in. He was tanned, lean and fit. He looked just about the happiest man I’d ever met. “Most mornings I just walk over the fields, along the cliff top, come into town, get my paper and sit outside one of the pubs. I’ll make a couple of pints last 2 hours, especially if I get chatting to some nice people. It’s brilliant.” I shook his hand and left, but I have thought about him often.
As Jan and I strolled back to our rented cottage, after seemingly planning out the rest of our lives, energised and excited, we past the Shipwrights. I smiled and said to Jan, “Remember me telling you about that bloke, last year.” She squeezed my hand. “I’ve never forgotten it,” she said. And, as we rounded the corner, there he was, sitting outside, rolling a fag, nattering to a holiday maker and nursing a pint. “That’s him,” I whispered. She looked at him and grinned at me. “That’ll be you, too.”
I went back to work today. I am going to find a way to make this happen, sooner rather than later. I’m not stupid, I’m also famously careful with money, so I’m not going to do anything silly. But I HAVE to do this.
So, young Bob. Keep hold of those you love most. Find the good in each day and focus on that. Make time for you. And keep making your lovely music. It gives a lot of people so much pleasure. There is no better gift.
Bingo Little says
What a lovely post, Niall.
This put a real smile on my face. I was indeed in Polzeath last week, right round the corner from where you were. As has long been a tradition amongst my brothers and I, we began each day with a run across the beach and along the cliffs to Rock, for breakfast at the Blue Tomato, staring over the water at Padstow. With the tide out, you could virtually walk across.
I’ve been going to North Cornwall with my family since I was 8 years old. As far as I’m concerned, it’s god’s own country, and I’m never more relaxed than when I’m there and in the sea. We’re already trying to work out how we can make these surf pilgrimages a little more often (there’s a couple of weeks a year in summer with the entire extended family all under one roof, but it’s not enough), and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t occasionally considered simply packing it all in, upping sticks, moving down there and surfing every morning the waves would allow.
On this most recent trip there was a middle aged man out on a board with his three teenage lads. Sun coming down across the water, all four of them mucking about together. He looked as happy and fulfilled as anyone I can ever recall seeing. He wasn’t a bad surfer either.
I say go for it, Niall. It sounds like it’s the place that makes you happy, and life is for the living. I may well end up joining you in due course.
mikethep says
And lovely post Niall!
Lots of reasons for me…permanently happy (and amazed) that I’ve ended up in Oz of all places with a wonderful woman who keeps me on my toes in all sorts of ways. Healthier and fitter than I’ve been for decades, what with walking, no booze, gardening and going to the gym twice a week (the irony that this is mostly happening because I have a life-threatening disease is something I ponder often).
Above all, my son came out for a couple of weeks recently. I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much quality time with him. Sometimes we talked and talked, sometimes we walked and didn’t talk, sometimes we just read in companionable silence. And it was great, and we gave him a great holiday. We haven’t always had the most comfortable of relationships, for one reason or another – nothing too dramatic, just not much to say to each other (especially since his mother died), and I feel very happy that we’ve moved on.
JustB says
Thanks, Niall – and right back atcha: what a lovely post. 🙂
retropath2 says
Wilma, my dog, yesterday.
retropath2 says
Eek, no it isn’t….
http://i1353.photobucket.com/albums/q678/Xuxi58/12118790_1003693952994474_9145856835491219946_n_zpspvvhzqmq.jpg
But this should be….
Locust says
A good friend of mine has been getting more and more health problems over the last year, to the point where she just expects to feel ill all of the time. I met her last Wednesday and she looked really sick, could barely breathe and complained about a swollen leg, but when I said that she should go to the ER she claimed that she could wait because she had a scheduled doctor’s appointment a week later.
I gave her a long speech with a few worst case scenarios thrown in to scare her, and in the end she promised to go in as soon as possible.
A few days later she called me from the hospital, turns out that she had a thrombosis in her leg, two in her lungs and heart fibrillation and had been admitted immediately when she got there Thursday morning.
I’m glad I managed to convince her to take it seriously, I’m very happy that she’s alive (though still very weak) and I’m thankful that my own health is good – and I’m VERY happy that my back sorted itself out completely after in total three weeks of increasing torture, so happy that I find myself dancing while I do my chores at home, just because I can.
My lovely dad wanted to see his kids enjoying his money while he was still alive and well, so he gave us part of our inheritance in advance. Well, there’s six of us and he’s no Donald Trump, so it’s not a fortune exactly, but it has allowed us to buy/do a few things that our normal budgets wouldn’t cover.
I’ve been replacing everything that’s been falling apart lately…a phone, a watch, a good camera, a new printer, and my teeth… And after that I’ve spent the rest on art: one Pencilsqueezer commission and a couple of small pieces of photographic art from the Affordable Artfair this weekend.
Dad’s very pleased every time one of us calls him to tell him of another thing his money bought us!
I had a fantastic day with my sister this Saturday, we took a five hour long walk all over Stockholm in the wonderful weather. Talking both in-depth serious stuff and complete bollocks. Taking lots of beautiful autumn nature photos with my great new camera. Next week I’m taking another long walk with one of my other sisters – it’s really fantastic being sisters, and the older you get the better it gets.
And the usual stuff: music, books and cooking. Three things tailor made for autumn (my favourite time of year, so that in itself gets me out of bed and feeling cheerful).
welshbenny says
To October and beyond hopefully:-
– Wife and kids being utterly scrumptious while simultaneously doing my head in natch 🙂
– Newly acquired rickenbacker (see profile pic) that has me at least convinced I sound like Roger Mcguinn
– Rugby World Cup thus far (though it could all get messy when we face the Aussies on Saturday)
– Realising I’ve only really dipped my toes into Neil Young’s back catalogue. So much more to explore
ianess says
Which era of Neil’s catalogue?
Johnny Concheroo says
As Cole Porter wrote in 1943, You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To
http://i.imgur.com/O8mde6J.jpg
Twang says
Now you’re talking. I need to update my sofa shot.
Johnny Concheroo says
Thought you’d like that @twang
H.P. Saucecraft says
Good stuff, bad stuff. Can’t have one without the other. Wouldn’t be living the lovely if I hadn’t surfed the black wave; which will probably rise again in its own good time.
As a kid, I used to think grown-ups had it made, grazing the warm, sunlit uplands. Learning that life gets tougher, and that you do too, is what nobody can teach you.
But this “place”, for all its niggles and nags, is one reason to be cheerful. Friends I’ve made but haven’t yet met. Teh lulz. Oh yes – teh lulz.
Johnny Concheroo says
Posting at 6am? Looks like the jet lag has kicked in good and proper.
Gatz says
Life gets tougher as a grown up? Not my experience. Chief among my reasons to be cheerful is that I will never have to be in my mid teens again. Of course you could see this as accentuating that life is a one way trip, but that’s a price worth paying.
Clive says
1. Discovering New York for the first time.
2. Rediscovering concerts again after a break.
3. Being sober for one year.
4. My beautiful 10 year old son who has empathy and humour in spades.
chiz says
I like middle age. I’ve become less ambitious and less materialistic (although you could argue it’s a lot easier to say that when you’ve done and got a lot of stuff). I’m more content in my fifties than any other decade, I think. You get more delight from smaller pleasures that were always there, but you were always looking beyond them.
So my R to be C is being in the brief arc of weightlessness between the climb up and the inevitable glide downwards. The important thing is to know that you’re there and enjoy the view.
Leedsboy says
Little things make me cheerful. The big things are often so anticipated or require planning and/or effort that they are often a tiny bit of a let down. So the following things have made me cheerful recently:
– my 7 year old son insisting that we have a sleepover in the log cabin office in our garden on Friday. The smile on his face as we lay on the hard floor snuggled under a duvet was magical.
– the dog wagging her tail so hard when I get home that she is practically waving her back half.
– walking in the same place over the course of a year and seeing the changes the seasons bring.
– dinner out with friends
– text messages from my lovely wife when I’m at work feeling put upon reminding me that home is there at the end of the day.
– the sound system in my new car. It’s loud and good which makes the commute more than bearable.
– my daughters laugh. It’s just a really good, enjoying herself laugh. And it’s loud.
– my eldest son settling down into College. He likes it and his lecturers have told us he’s doing really well.
Ahh_Bisto says
This video
Kaisfatdad says
Hilarious. Home life chez KFD in a nutshell.
ratbiter says
1. Wife and kids. Obviously. Although there are occasions when I could throttle the little buggers…
2. Travel. My job is rather dull, with lots of petty annoyances, but it does pay me enough to be able to travel to interesting places. So far this year, I’ve been to Paris, Dubai and the Kenyan coast, as well as shorter trips to a nearby lake, where we’ve camped, fallen asleep to the sounds of hippos snorting and watched giraffes and wildebeest run through our rented house’s garden. Next month I’m off to Kigali and Johannesburg.
I’ve just realised that comes across as boastful. It’s not, it’s just that I am fortunate to be in a position to do all that. I don’t want material goods, I just want to have interesting experiences. And that is what keeps me going.
Harry Tufnell says
As of today, lost three and a half stone since September 2014
Feeling fitter
Nobby & Angus
Long walks in Wells Wood (with or without Yellow-browed warblers)
Live football – not your TV bollocks
Not having to work unless I want to
Half Man Half Biscuit…
But most of all the most wonderful woman in the world.
Kaisfatdad says
Lots of small, local things.
The saintly Mrs KFD and the kids and our flat. No place like home. Even if it is over-full of books, DVDs, toys, robot spare parts and heaven knows what else.
Next a big thing . Both our kids are currently happy at school and in their different ways, slowly making progress. Both have teams of very dedicated teachers who to my astonishment seem to be rather fond of them.
Beautiful sunny days and autumn colours.
A local cinema five minutes walk away with an excellent repertoire and cheap prices. (Last weekend I won a ticket to see Natural Sciences, an Argentinian film which will be on my Best of 2015 list.)
An enormous forest 10 seconds from home. And an occasional dog that I can take for walkies.
Knowing a lot of nice people in our hood. One of my pals is a walking Encyclopedia on obscure Nordic jazz. Always a pleasure to run into him in the local square on the after-school run and have a natter.
The wit and knowledge of the AW community. Some comments can keep me smiling all day.
Finding a boxset of the Fast Show in our local charity shop.
Friends, several of whom will be coming over on Saturday as it’s my birthday. Sixty bloody two!
The bad news is that Mrs KFD is off to Barcelona for the weekend with some of her chums. The good news is that DuCool is hopefully coming and will doubtless be bringing a large pile of Dick’s Picks, atonal jazz and ambient Icelandic reggae. Everything’s bound to go with a swing.
geacher says
Looking forward to tomorrow night as I am meeting Big Kelly for a beer or six… he’s been me best bud for over fifty (50!!) years and we hook up a couple of times a year. Coming over all Jeremy Beadle, what BK does not know that we are to be joined by McGillicudy, a good friend of both of us from the late 60’s/early 70’s. Now, due to geographical reasons, Big Kelly has neither seen nor spoken to McGillicuddy since 1982sh, and he has no idea that McG is in the vicinity…. promises to be a good night…..
ganglesprocket says
1) ganglesprocklet turns two on Sunday. He is a happy, ebullient, joyous wee soul and I can’t quite believe that someone this lively, lovely and just wonderful came partly from me.
2) In about two weeks the contract for my current (awful) job will end. I took the job only because the appearance of sprocklet cracked my brain making me incapable of thought for about a year, and I figured I could do it on the three hours of sleep I was getting a night at the time. This was true. The problem was when I started to get a healthy amount of sleep again, I suddenly realized I was trapped in a shit job. I no longer am.
3) My old freelance clients have welcomed me with open arms again and I am booked till January.
4) Today I had an interview for something potentially actually brilliant.
5) My wife is a wonderful person who I dearly love.
6) I have a cd by Cymande on. If you’ve never heard them, this is brill. (They’ve reformed and are playing Kentish Town Forum in December. Can’t go probably, but that’s thanks to sprocklet, who I’d have over Cymande any day.)
ruff-diamond says
That Cymande track is fantastic! Off to Amazon I go…
ganglesprocket says
Their collection “The Message” is astonishingly good.
ruff-diamond says
1) Despite 5 (that’s FIVE) major wildfires in our county this year, including the third most destructive in California history, and two evacuations, we still have a roof over our head.
2) Hockey season is back, back, BACK!