Did I tell you that I’m 63 on Sunday?
Am I too old to have a man crush?
Well I have
Jason Mantzoukas
Beard like a rabbit nest
I’m smitten
Have him wrapped up and sent round
Giselle
Sometimes we limit ourselves because of effort and boxes which we construct around ourselves. The broken handle on the back door is a case in point, I’ve lived with it for months now, and only recently has it got on my tits enough for me to fix it today.
And that’s satisfying as fuck!
Today I’ve decided that things need doing.
I read with interest that the National Ballet Company of Japan is guesting at the Royal Opera House in July. It performs Giselle and I’m bloody well going to the Saturday matinee, I suspect it will be a delightful experience so bish, bash, bosh , I’ve got me an ok seat and an early train to London.
I’m on a roll today.
Patterns
“John does find positive comments difficult to hear and has a tendency to be more comfortable with negative feedback, this continues to be work in progress for him.”
I am reflecting on this sentence. Just one from an excellent three page report from my supervisor , she’s perfectly right, that this continues to be a work in progress for me.
My 1970s childhood was devoid of parental praise and that’s why it feels awkward when I’m praised by authority figures. I’ve always understood that dynamic it’s the go to dynamic of me returning to negative praise that’s I’ve now understood more and more, even I though I’m a man rapidly approaching his 63rd birthday
Stopping yourself returning to what you know ( but also what you despise ) can be difficult but it’s perfectly doable with practice.
I’ve reread my supervisor’s report and have accepted the positives therein
Hey ho
It’s my birthday on Sunday ( Janet’s too) I think her birthday gift will feature another London trip or somewhere further afield .
Mary is back home, where she should be, Trendy Carol and her hubby, loved having her, I have a sneaky idea that they would love to adopt her
But she’s home Roger watching her carefully
A Good Day
Sometimes you make your own good day
Other times it’s made for you.
Today has been a bit of both.
I got up early, and amongst jobs cut roses and honeysuckle and euphorbia from the garden and put them in a gaudy Welsh jug that was doing nothing.
Roger and I went for a sausage breakfast on Colwyn Bay Promenade then went to the hospice to retrieve my emails as he tottered around the staff, bumming treats.
At midday I met up with some of the hospice staff for lunch and a haircut and a gossip .
They are a nice bunch, and I could feel their good ( and very black) humour lift my psychi
This evening it’s two video calls with friends in Manchester and Sheffield
It’s been a perfect day
Quite lovely
Pottering
Im sat in the forcourt of a busy garage and shop in St Asaph waiting to meet with my counsellor and her hubby who have my final report documentation for university.
Im feeling a bit like an over the hill drug dealer but they dont, im sure, eat McDonald's porridge with a cardboard spoon when waiting to meet
Ive bought her a pretty yellow lilly as a thank you.
Today has a flower theme as im delivering flower show programmes with Randy Roger in tow. Mary is resting under the gentle eye of Trendy Carol's hubby, a man who will spoil her rotton.
Ive had a long chat with my boss at work yesterday and have we have agreed to a phased return starting next Friday. This means I will effectively work one shift and two study day shifts in three weeks, enough time to see how I feel and more space to review my options.
My supervisor reflected that its been an awful year for me so far, which I disagreed with. I do however think that it is a pivotal one where work and choices are concerned
This weekend will be useful to contemplate my options
Hormones and laburnum
My laburnum is so in flower it can be seen from space….
Well that’s a lie, but it can be seen from the lane window
Which pleases me.
Roger has been affected badly from Mary’s “ final” and sudden being in season…it has now necessitated Mary’s immediate relocation to Trendy Carol’s house. Roger has now humped three cushions , my stuffed chameleon , Mrs Trellis’s red felt lobster and has attempted to mount Weaver with disastrous results
Oh lord
Help us
Where Does the Time Go?
On Wednesday it was Nu’s birthday
My touchstone , my friend , my bestie
Seeing Julia Fordham singing at the Royal Opera House last night reminded me of my salad days with Nu
When 1990 revolved around being a student, The Ledmill, too much alcohol and laughing
Where does the time go?
Was the soundtrack of our friendship in an rapidly evolving Sheffield
Tomorrow she travels by train in Norway, what fun!
I see her , on average three times a year
And she’s as necessary to me as oxygen
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