※SpinalGap24 ※

After a day of struggling through a migraine and chest pains, I completed my lesson plans for my students, and sat down to watch Everton-Dinamo Bucharest (Dinamo Idetest).

As a Liverpool supporter, I was behind Everton, and even more so after DB showed that they cannot (only) play football but use every form of gamesmanship known to the world...and more. (I accept they have quality players and sometimes show raw talent.)
Everton, you can take heart, you restored passion against animals hell bent on causing injury. The challenge made on Arteta is one of the sickest aerial challenges I've seen since the infamous Schummacher 'kick-to-kill' on Patrick Battiston in 1982, when France were leading, and controlling Germany 3-1. The sight of Battiston so affected the team, and indeed Michel Platini in particular, (who can remember seeing him clutching the hand of an unconscious Battiston being taken off on a stretcher?). The savagery far overshadowed a classic game, perpetrated by a 'man' not fit to ever grace a football field, and France were levelled in more ways than one, 3-3 after extra time and defeat on penalties...the nice guys had lost. Though the outfield German team were gifted, it has to be said, Rummenigge in particular.

And so the most innappropriately named, Mihaita Plesan, decided to accelerate at the leaping Arteta, with back to himself, made impact with such ferocity, that Arteta's frame mimicked a car accident scene, the culprit a madman, like a hit and run, a scene fit for criminal proceedings. Arteta's body has helpless as he took the full unsuspecting impact and his head flopped and hit the floor at terrifying speed, hence the visions we've all scene of the need for seat belts from whiplash injuries. He suffered a fit on the pitch and needed 7 or 8 minutes emergency treatment, while Plesan watched on, with only a yellow card to his disgraced name.
There was real fear witnessing the trembling legs of Arteta who seemed out cold, but today we learn he came round, and may be OK soon, thank God. In hindsight, he is lucky that he was not permanantely injured, or even worse....it hardly bares thinking about...
James Beattie is not my favourite player, but I felt enormous empathy with him when he went into that challenge on the culprit, Plesan, afterwards. Yes, that is exactly how I felt too!!
But, Everton, naturally, and Neville in particular, looked shaken...as did everyone other than Plesan.

I would also like to praise the conduct of Everton players after such a revolting challenge...I would never have been able to keep my emotions under control. Plesan went in to hurt, in the 88th or 89th minute and he did so...I just hope when he sees the replay, he too will hurt for the rest of his career, it was shameful, unnecesary and the act of a footballer in need of help. He is clearly using football as an 'excuse' for something else. The wrong team progressed to the next stages...not for footballing reasons, but for the true spirit of football. If modern football is the world of actors, thugs, hit and run tacklers who are allowed to almost maim fellow professionals, then I turn off.
I love the aggressive game, hard tackler's etc, but when you see a team acting AND breaking opposing players in two...well...

Again I emphasise my allegiance to Liverpool, but show enormous solidarity with Everton after that...they have their respect, they have MY respect, and who are the real winners of that game...certainly NOT Dinamo Bucharest.

Everton, a climb up the table awaits, and above all, a speedy recovery for Arteta, a far more gifted player than Mihaita Plesan can ever hope to be...football will be restored shortly!!!

Colour: Blue and black
Music: Radiohead: A Wolf at the Door
Heather Nova: Blue Black
Chemical Brothers: Push the Button

With a shot of pain, aching through another sickening migraine,
You have lain beneath the vision I had,
but learn I have to see you in a new light hitherto unknown-
you're animal, poacher, seducer, cursed
with 'you-are-me' eyes, drawn in black ink...
growling, loving, soothing voice seeking my mother tongue
as I sought refuge in yours
rain thundering hard above us
in garden-green coloured decaying shelter
you upon my knee - and escaping nowhere was our empathy
raindrops sneaking through cracked Victorian slate
onto your cheek, and where our lips did meet
my coat, my hood, your wet, long jet black hair...
our time, our embrace, our bodies entwined
your koi-patterned top, you allowed to drop
there it fell, along with the rain and our love.

Colour: Grey/blue
Music: Tricky: Maxinquaye (an absolute masterpiece)
Mylene Farmer: l'amour naissant

So, the 'special ones' cancelled each other out, 0-0, surprise, surprise. Who would bet against the same scoreline at Stamford Bridge in the return leg??
But the Premiership fixture, I am convinced, will bring at least one goal...because now, in the three Champions League games between the two clubs have produced all of one goal, and how important that one was...as they said on 5 Live last night, 'Liverpool now have the measure of Chelsea' ...yes, they do indeed, and nobody else in England can claim that!

Apparently, the local news announced that a report has found that dear ol' Norfolk is one of the most expensive places in Britain to buy a pint of beer. Why....why us?? No-one is questioning the report, but we're all shocked.
Home brew my friends, home brew...~~~
It went on to say that we in Norfolk are also the nation's worst drivers...like hell we are...

My dream last night was symbolic, yet abstract, whereby I had been invited to my mother's home region of France, though family were not involved in the dream at all.
A 'meeting' had been arranged with a literary lady, French, and of some great mystery and respect. We met, in a beautiful tin can development, the pride of modern France, but inside, for our coffee, we were amidst basketball courts, and low lighting. Anyway we chatted about life, literature, books, queues, and people, as the sporty types hurled basketballs around us.

Colour: Autumn gold
Music: Mylene Farmer: Innamoramento
Reading: Rupert Brooke

Happy, happy was I to share what we could not deny
for you and I were ever chasing the tide
turned against us as keen as the wind
of change in our hearts entwined though they were.

You were slender in eastern sky blues shining in the whites
of my eyes, which in turn dived into the deepest
shallows of your all conquering black eyes
calling to our shelter beneath those pines

A love so alive, yet laid so low ...for so long
one smile, touch, glance, tone or ...kiss
unfazed by rain pouring down on those famous white cliffs
crawling to our shelter beneath those pines

Your blues and whites slipping so low
soft sounds enhanced with eyes closed
as precious moments shared have now
slipped from our shelter that was beneath those long gone pines.

2-1! Norwich managed a good performance, at least AFTER going one down on 84...seconds! But thereafter the performance which brought two goals before half-time was reminiscent of the Championship winning season two years ago. The second-half was a scrap, but they won and please let this be the serious start to the season. Huckerby had a very good game, and they really should have added a third before the HT whistle. Anyway, Norfolk is happy enough today...

Tonight it's Liverpool and Chelsea...the battle of the two 'special ones' and I feel Liverpool have to get in front tonight. I'm confident they can get another draw at Stamford Bridge, but tonight needs the spirit of that first-half performance against Juventus last season. Even a slender one goal advantage, I feel, will be enough to take to Chelsea in the return leg.
I do not know if Chelsea are any better than they were last season, or, for that matter, if Liverpool are...but I know in a Champions League fixture, LFC can win...and I keep my fingers crossed for that.
September and May are very different in footballing terms!

This morning is again beautifully clear and sunny, a glorious September is upon us here in the far-east of England, and I started my day with Jordan's Country Crisp, my daily does of coffee and tounyuu.
Actually, every day I start with a lot of water, a cleanser, and then an hour later, a conventional breakfast. I miss lunch sometimes, but never can pass on my breakfast...this is, as many say, the most important for me. Whether it be toast and cheese, wholemeal bread and salami, cornflakes...or (from a recent suggestion), porridge.

Yesterday, I seemed to have a blackout on my stairs, and fell...I can't remember how or why it happened, but fall I did, and lucky I am...I must have fallen from the turn of flight, and twisted my knee and ankle, as that was heaving with pain after I came round.
...but one hour later, a nice warm hug from a friend helped get me back on me feet!!

= If you try to fail, but succeed, which one have you done? =

Colour: Burlywood
Music: The Specials: Do Nothing
Reading: "The Game" supplement

Simple food today did me well...for breakfast toast topped with a slice of Maasdam, and some coffee with Chinese soya beans added, and that was fine to start my working day...lunch is almost always rice, but today I went head first for good old English and made myself some sausage, beans, and fried egg with milk! (My friend said that nobody drinks milk anymore...but I dispute that.)
I enjoy my food very much these days, because I chop and change regularly, eat simply, and sometimes not at all, so when I do cook, or eat out, it is seldom extravagant, but always nice.
I can't abide waste, and worse than that, seeing people at buffet restaurants, scooping up termite nest-sized portions, only to leave most of it. WASTEful.
Only as much as is necessary is my motto.
Last night my gregarious student, looked upon my friend, the hedgehog, as a meal, and made a lunge for him...thank goodness I interceded and saved the spiked visitor.

Has anyone tried balot

Colour: autumnal golden brown
Music: Electric Pulse: White Noise
Reading: Poets of the First World War

Heavenly food that simply disappears from your plate
dreams that uncannily reappear as your fate
re-reading your words that echo away my days
travelling in your memory through a drunken haze

stirring the cup where your lips lay
drinking the same sencha from this cup of clay
-my lips where your lips lay-
stirring my senses this very day

The hum of washing being spun proficiently
typing thoughts wistfully
police siren beyond sycamore shield
Norwich, September morning thus does yield...
...to the haze above the trudging wheels
and thoughts a plenty of undone deals
incomes sought beyond feelings fraught
on roundabouts we're hopelessly caught
quick-charge! between bus and corner-cutter
this life is, God forbid, my bread and butter.

Colour: White and blue
Music: System of a Down: Chic 'N' Stu
Reading: Rupert Brooke: The Collected Poems

What makes you happiest...
good food or good money?

(When I say 'good food' it can be an apple...a fish caught by someone who only seeks a meal, or well prepared hand-picked, hand-caught foods, like fish dishes....my principle is the food around us in this world, the basics, however well-prepared they may be. Food in the traditional sense.)
I know my answer as clear as anything!

Listen up! I want to call the ones with tears in their eyes,
fears in their inner recesses,
To those with laughter and smiles from ear to ear and...
the ones I've loved, love, and the ones I should love more,
to those of you I hurt,
helped, saved and cradled...
the ones who I stopped from doing the most final and dreadful of acts...
...I'm SO glad to still see you with us, oh so glad,
to my music buddies, to Friday hungry tummies, soccer friends...
so ridiculous, hilarious, paranoid, insane and annoying,
and the precious, hilarious, lovable and most highly respected...
fellow bloggers, and blog buddies...
my words hereafter are plain and very simple...
I want to drink with you, and tell you that you all have played a rôle in my world.
Thank you, ALL.

(I'm drinking ONE whisky, but I mean these words so sincerely, and truly. I'd never have written them otherwise....the sip of Mekhong just gave me the push to say it...at last.
I lay myself down, as human, with failings, with hopes, loves, sacrifices and ambitions,
cravings, longings, yearnings a plenty,
moods and blues, helter skelter again,
...going too far to fall short,
...I'm human, only, merely, simply...because tonight I truly WANT to be!!)

Colour: Caramel
Music: Mads Arp ft Julie Harrington: Slow it Down (Mathilda mix)
Reading: you

Part of you is genius while another is absurd,
part of me seeks perfection while the other is reserved
I give my unreserved attention,
to your absurd imperfections
-ingenuously we seek...
...in each other

Today started cold, with a beautiful sunrise illuminating the early morning dew, trickling off the snail-trail-marked greenhouse glass, and onto yesterday's freshly cut grass, still filling the crisp air.
As the sun touches my plants one by one, the autumn sun never seems in a hurry, it appears that Spiderman paid me a visit, with cobwebs abseiling across the entire garden and house from sycamore and limes, dark with the glare of horizontal sun rays...the autumn light is indeed fascinating.
It appears that everything is more alive now than in the manic growing days of spring, and heightened crops of summer...as September is a month where we ALL notice and expect change, which will touch us all, with varying certainty.

Last night I was lured by my summer purchase in Hamm, Germany...so I had some Mekhong Thai whisky with peanuts, and it burnt some happiness right through the very heart of me. Thank you Mekhong, thank you Thailand.
And some good news was forthcoming, Sainsbury's have started selling Candia milk...my childhood favourite...so there goes another secret~~~

This afternoon, I'll find a quiet spot, to draw, with pen and ink. It's been lacking of late as taking photos, teaching, and physiotherapy have ruled the roost regards time.
So, with that in mind, I'll try to finish off my sketches, some going back to last autumn in Japan, where I sketched in Chiba, Tokyo, and especially in Kyoto. Now I want to finish off the last remaining ones.
My good friends and I all sketched in our unique ways, added rhymes for our hidden sighs, and displayed our work with collected pride...if only because we did it all together, the three of us. My two friends storybook style is wonderful, and shows purity, and mine was added for politeness sake only...but a memory of tremendous value all the same.
My Shizuoka friend promised me a February picnic, in England...!!!

Colour: Red
Music: Stereophonics: Dakota
Reading: Japan's Underwater City

Damn!
A third puncture since June, and this time it annoys me significantly more, because on the cycle route some thoughtful lad decided to devote a fair few minutes to laying a pack of drawing pins, upright of course, and slightly submerged in the sandier parts. As I reached the suburban roads, I heard a very regular tik-tik-tik...and it was only when I got home, 5 minutes later, that I realised I had a golden drawing pin smiling at me. Mozzy pin maybe.
But even now, the tyre is fine, but the whoosh of air as I pulled out this pin is not on...however, the local cycle shop know me pretty well now.
It brought back visions of Stanley pulling something similar out of Ollie's car, blowing his hat off. My hands held outwards and upwards to the sky was my instinctive and immediate, unconscious Stanley impersonation!

On the radio just now they were going through THEIR most annoying songs, and one that was selected was "Together in Electric Dreams" by Giorgio Moroder and Phil Oakley...without wishing to give my opinion on that hit, ( ~^,^~ ) it is one of those tunes that sticks around like a wasp...however hard you sweep the mind's floor, or swat the irritation, the tune touches down again and again and again.
Have you got any songs that immediately shut-down the brain?
Songs which you hate so much they intensify while in your mind?
Those songs that enter the head, and just will not go away, however hard you try?
Tunes that feed on thought, halt work and reduce you to standstill, like admiring a great tree in the evening, and as you get closer, find yourself amidst a cloud of flies that take to you instantly...or worse, a bluebottle falling into your coffee...(worse on TWO fronts that one!)

Food feast, and a party for the taste buds was today's highlight. That and buying underlay for the kitchen! I thought I should buy System of a Down's new cd, but funked it...next time for sure.
Last night, I cooked my favourite meal...omelette with very thinly sliced onions, five eggs, mushrooms, parsley and formaggio grattugiato cheese. Not over done, on the contrary, I prefer it underdone to allow the freshness to mellow in nature's own time. This added to Thai rice was the meal for my homestay student and myself...and I set the table, called him, when, unexpectedly, a friend called at my back door to see Morris Womble Blogflirt and 'shyeye' Rodders the guinea pigs. So I introduced them with glee.
Well, it lasted all of 5 minutes, and when I returned to my table, I was aghast...empty seats, empty glass, empty plate, and ... empty everything...all my omelette, ALL the rice cooker full of Thai rice...gone. Where the hell does HE put it all???
He also smokes a pipe, and it got blocked yesterday, so he grabbed my 35 cms long pine needles souvenir from a temple in Kyoto to unblock it...I saw red~!
I sought solace in an apricot slice crumble washed down with Twinnings orange, ginger and honey tea.

My dream last night, after that crap, was bizarre. It all started well enough...I nodded off to the sound of Black Hole Sun and pretty soon, the land of nod took me to Switzerland, and the new Euro-style city architecture before me...orderly, pristine, suitable, functional without anything being singularly outstanding...though the overall effect was impressive. There was a river running between concrete embankments, trees were new and none within the dreaming eye's vicinity were more than 10 years old. It was, at a guess, late August and I was, kind of, house-hunting. Hills gave way to distant mountains, and pedestrian ways to a sensibly planned area of appartments. I felt one was 'home' on a third floor of four. By this time, on foot, my parents appeared behind me, and a partner who never spoke a word...strange.
Without ever reaching or seeing 'my' appartment, (which had been the purpose of the walk), I had an nagging need for...yes, a Post Office what else!! I was seeking a yellow PO sign, and was lured into a library area, which too was not such an old building. This building had a high ceiling in one part, the older structure, but had a walkway, near a beautifully sunny courtyard which was busy with contentment and trotting locals. Through another walkway, all well-ordered and silent, an archway was passed through, and into some form of cathedral. Within a milli-second long queues opened up before our eyes, and I followed the PO queue, which moved forward, slowly, in dull light and silence, always at right angles...until what seemed to be a cloister broke the forward movement. The queues were all single file, and at the cloister point, my grandmother sprung forth, expressing 'the way of things in here'. My grandmother speaks no English in real life, and in this dream she spoke no words, and yet her message was clear...because just beyond her, was a dead-straight queue, breaking up my own Post Office queue...this other queue, again single file and silent, was heading into a darkened area, seemingly a prayer area...and it spelt some sort of trepidation.
I was totally unsure as to how to cross this line...and it was my grandmother who told me the way and manner in which to do it...

Each new day we are awoken by it's presence
it gives us light a plenty, for the time of brightness,
is limited by it's own continuation
it turns to shine on others while outside our gaze,
those moments, darkened and restless
Sensitive - a time of reflection...
everything that I am, has been illuminated by you
even those still moments watching you,
intimately setting from my bubbled bath
or a tree-lined path,
you've shadowed me all my known life
especially in the days of my youth-
when you seemed to shine endlessly, watching over playful innocence,
you altered (a) little as years passed, your warmth always welcome
you can dazzle, you can oppress, burn, invigorate, heal or kill
but I know, tomorrow morning, I'll be looking out for you

Music: Groove Armada: Goodbye Country (hello nightclub)
Colour: cream
Food: Belgian waffle biscuits filled with vanilla. Oh my~~~
Reading: La Zizanie

A water mark on the reverse of a long-forgotten cd case
a moment of carelessness, thoughtfulness, focused...
in a time past, thoughtlessness travels fast,
being who you were listening to the music that overcame your blue,

what do you feel now, as you listen and
clean away the stain of those years past?
now crisp, clean and immaculate the outside gleams
as the music recedes again, returning when the dust itches away at your subconscience.

Music: Zazie: Dans la Lune

it speaks to me when I hurt,
and seethes at me when I work,
piles on the day glowing through the dirt
and melts away the underlay of Nemisis

calling when a clue is sought from frosts at dawn
elusive as the sun searching the ground through pines,
abundant is the dawn chorus which awakened my first post,
as the last post never ends for those that never saw

laughing at what might have been, and what was
in the wades of our summer loving
falling over you, into you, for you, ...with you...
was to come one with THE one

sharing when all hope is lost in the flicker of early autumn winds
a shuddering beat from september's lost heat,
ensuring the clearest of big skies can succumb to the sea,
as my greatest feelings come from the music within me。

Music: Portishead: Dummy
Reading: Matthew Parris: A Castle in Spain, (extract)

show it to me, now, come on, please,
and I'll show you mine also,
it's the only time, now or never,
so please, never say never,
because I'll say it,
never again

My French Grandmother now finds herself stuck for the remainder of her life in a large, brash nursing home, and her house, which was filled with thousands of memories, the family meeting place, annual summer home, my teenage years were spent there, and the chime of a 1930's clock ringing forevermore in my mind.
Grandfather died a year ago, and it destroyed my Grandmother who now cannot recognise any of us. It has in turn, hurt my mother more than she'll ever show. To travel from Norwich to France, visit your mother and be told, by her, (my grandmother to my mother), "who are you?" is very, very hard. To see her face crumbling with realisation was torturous. If a family means anything, it'll be felt deep in the heart.
The remaining days were spent with the dispersal of her 'effects' (I loathe this word now), and thus honouring her wishes. Seeing such familiar items as a beehive-shaped honey pot, some nesquick breakfast bowls, a pastis bottle-top measuring piece...each bring back countless stories, crystal clear memories, perfect snapshots, relatives departed, and the roots in France, weakened and exposed.
I could look at my Grandmother's photo only the once. The vision is as strong as any.
'Lauren6' is in honour of my departed relatives...they live on, and so do I, for now, with love.

Music: Jam & Spoon ft Plavka: Kaleidoscope Skies
PiL: Public Image
Zazie: Zen, Au Diable nos Adieux, J'envoie Valser.

Les troubadours, les malandrins.me suivent de près.quand je vais dans la salle de bain.les canaris et les serinsm'envient ce doux bruit.que je fais le matin...les troubadours le savent bien.qu'importe l'humeur.toutes les heures.sonnent bien.ils sont pas sourds comme les voisins.qui pensent que je déménage.que je vais pas bien.qui veulent que je déménage.parait qu'c'est pour mon bien...je chante la la la.sur tous les airs.et sur tous les tons.tu n'es pas là là là.et y a guère.que l'écho qui répond.et j'ai le la bémol.plaqué au sol...depuis j'attends le jour.où, l'air de rien.tu viendras me faire.de la mousse dans le bain.tu sais que les mots d'amour.ça s'entend de loin.comme les scènes de ménage.et les bêtes en cage.comme les bruits de casserole.et les rossignols...ça fait des la la lasur tous les airs.et sur tous les tons.tu n'es pas là là là.et y a guère.que l'écho qui répond.je chante la la la.des notes en l'air.et des sanglots longs.tu n'es plus là là là.et la sirène.se change en poisson...et j'ai le la bémol.plaqué au solet j'ai le la mineur.plaqué au cœur

-Zazie, La La La

I learnt today that 1-in-5 people using the internet, do so with the radio on, (seperately)...and that would include me.
I would have thought it was higher than that actually...wouldn't you?
The internet is full of scope, though a touch lifeless sometimes, (but becoming more personal recently, on a positive note, as opposed to hitherto impersonal computers)...and the radio is a perfect accompaniment...as is tea...it all goes together, routinely for me, the only detail being which station. Though I do also have music too...
For now, it's BBC Radio Norfolk, with the Norwich City report...(they won 2-0 tonight!).

Has anyone seen the Japanese housewife's dream invention, of a smallish cubicle which can be fitted, tastefully, in the main room of a home, fitting all of the man's 'rubbish toys' such as PC, papers, hifi, games etc), and thus leaving the home uncluttered with HIS crap. It is also soundproof and can host up to 5 of HIS friends, complete with fridge and beer compartment! It is surely a sad answer steming from division, but may also be a saving grace too?
Maybe.

Another interesting thing....when I do my cycle therapy, I have worn various t-shirt's, but the different reactions I've had from the Italian t-shirt, (white with blue lettering), and the Deutschland t-shirt, (white with black), is amazing. The Italian t-shirt has been greeted with warmth, smiles and general happiness...but the Deutschland one, which is actually cooler in my opinion, has had a 'stand firm' attitude from fellow cyclists and walkers. Well...it's still me...hmm, ...don't answer that!

I've returned from l'hopital and heeded a friend's email advice...that is to stay away from my beloved salami. I refrained from buying any...so thank you last week for that...your words have helped change a small part of my diet, thus protecting my heart.

Now, I must tackle this 'outbreak' of red ants attacking my keyboard, ...where did they all come from??
今、眠たい。。。おやすみなさい。

Music: High Contrast: Remember When
Tosca feat. Anna Clementi: Oscar
Gorillaz: Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Music: Massive Attack: Risingson
Book: Toyohiko Kagawa: Songs from the Slums

You came with your partner in late snows,
To discover the offerings of our table,
Shyly you did scuttle,
by side fence and path,
but recently your visits have increased,
as your partner has ceased
being anymore than a glorious memory,
and for you I offer food a plenty

you're up, you're down,
we're sick, we're proud,
you're here, you're there,
we're lost, you're found,
you're hot, I'm cold...
I was dreaming, I'm awakening...

...to a gorgeous sunrise, full of reds, yellows, oranges and that taboo word, magenta, over Norfolk reedbeds, bus-free-car-free-bus-lanes tempting us, ever more..
cars before us,
and ever later am I
sure this is the only way to go.

Right! Now, I'm awake...

Last night, my student seemed to want a 'man's talk' over my home-made lasagne.
Well, last week he told me he was a happy virgin, but last night he told me how well he can 'keep it up' and usually scores '7shots' most nights. Huh? Bit of egoism there, with that turnaround in one week.
Either that, or Norwich has a lot going on these days!
But he is looking bloody knackered every morning, and his lethargy, tomcatface, and eating habits have changed considerably in one week, (and his cheese craving has, at last, subsided), confirming a changed lifestyle, if not a changed 'man'.
I've now hidden my waffles and cheez-whiz in my garage.
How many of you have hidden food?
I've just admitted it, so you can too!!

Music: Gorillaz: Dare
Bauhaus: Double Dare
999: Emergency
+Buzzcocks: Sixteen Again...

Feeling like I’m almost sixteen again
Layin’ ’round doing nothing like all my friends
Play it cool don’t get angry count up to ten
Just like I was sixteen again

Everybody gets the lowdown right from the start
Everybody gets the showdown right from the heart
But that’s all that’s on the menu and life’s a la carte
I don’t know

Things in life are not played for keeps
If it makes you happy it’ll make you weep
And if you want some more practical advice
If you can’t think once then don’t think twice
Cos things won’t seem so nice
You’ll wish you were sixteen again
Oh no

Feeling rather strange when you’re sixteen again
Things don’t seem the same the past is so plain
This future is our future this time’s not a game
This time you’re sixteen again

Always on your own when there’s nobody else
Asking myself would I be someone else
But after all life’s only death’s recompense
I don’t know

Things in life are not played for keeps
If it makes you happy it’ll make you weep
And if you want some more practical advice
If you can’t think once then don’t think twice
Cos things won’t seem so nice
You’ll wish you were sixteen again
Oh no

Look at me here I am for your eyes
Mirrored proof of what you recognize
I know I never will feel quite like you
And I know you won’t treat me right till I do
But at least we’ll know it’s true
That we’re sixteen again
Oh no

Feeling rather strange when you’re sixteen again
Things don’t seem the same the past is so plain
This future is our future this time’s not a game
This time you’re sixteen again

Always on your own when there’s nobody else
Asking myself would I be someone else
But after all life’s only death’s recompense
I don’t know

Look at me here I am for your eyes
Mirrored proof of love’s suicide
I know I never will feel quite like you
And I know you won’t treat me right till I do
But at least we’ll know it’s true
That we’re sixteen again
Oh no

Sixteen again
Sixteen again

You know, I am at breaking point with these f--- kitchen phone calls. The double-glazing f's have gone into folklore, but the recent kitchen company ones are nauseating squirts, or in Norfolk, squits, (which is another matter!)
They seem to offer a splash-out, flash-stinking-rich kitchen 'all for you my dear' on condition that the house becomes a 'hidden detail' showroom, a prime commercial space, how a typical kitchen can look in a REAL home, for the public to view at anytime...like hell it does.
'Why, why, why sir, you not like new fitted kitchen of modern taste that delights the heart?'
=because I have a brain, albeit small, but it works!
'But sir, you not say yes, you will not know the cuisinary works of art that you can create and can befit you and your lifestyle.'
=Hey, you know me, you know what I cook, (can I cook???), and you know I invite people here???
'But you sound like you do.'
=Oh yeah...my deepening tones, and cracking knuckles indicate as such do they?
'Well, it is all for you, really, all for you, we only seek comfort and enjoyment for people like you. It is our belief that every family should have this right.'
=To never get to ones own kitchen, because of the Tokyo-tube-train-like crowding??
'Oh, but sir, but sir, you miss the point...'
=No, no, noooooooooooo more....
etcetcetc.

The original kitchenshitnonconformist

In two weeks time our suburb will have a council meeting to discuss...lime tree deposits.
It is actually a very serious issue. These beautiful trees are depositing enough 'syrup' onto our cars, houses, and grass, to corrode all in it's wake...my grass is burnt and dead, my Japanese willow is growing only on one side, my car wipers, neighbours also, refuse to wipe unless they are bathed first, (I know that feeling!), and the worst, is this blackening of everything, (indeed, the repair of the car's bodywork is now a costly business)...the gates are sticky black instead of reddish brown, the Norwich red brick walls have blackened, the windows have a black hue every morning, and my window cleaner said, it looks like this whole area has been torched outside the houses.
When a councillor drove in my neighbours car, he said, 'By crickey, how the blazes d'ya drive with winda's like dat?'
Neighbour was quick to try the wipers which heaved and puffed with no movement forthcoming. 'Because they are bloody stuck with lime syrup, that's why!'
Councillor then went red and arranged this upcoming meeting!!
Now, I must say, I love trees, and make a point of planting at least 50 every year, which I have managed since I was 12. And NOBODY wants them cut down...this is very important...we only want a neighbourhood syrup-free zone and trimmed branches. Simply, nothing more.
I guess it'll also be a scurvy-free zone too...???

Music: Soundgarden: Superunknown, (esp. Head Down, track 6)
Gorillaz: Demon Days
ABBA: Mama Mia...because of the TV in the background

Music: Hildegard Von Bingen: Vision

Sunday football today...and I single out the Premiership as a yawn.
Liverpool, tightened up defence, and no attack...Leeds did this when George Graham took over, but I have considerable faith in Benitez!!
Owen has already scored, and reached the same total as the entire LFC team put together...I knew it would not be difficult for Michael. Watch the final end-of-season stats for the Chester lad...16+ goals, I'm sure. Liverpool might reach 30-45 goals as a team, but as was the case last season, their Champions League form is filled with tactical brilliance.
But this season, the reports share a similar story...unfilled Premiership stadia and more defensive tactics, plus Chelsea's clinical start, it is not making me alter my schedule to see matches as was the case years ago. Football is part of my life, but not quite MY life.
(I should give a Premiership nod to Sunderland and WBA who are giving their all, much as Norwich did last season...go for it you two, and Wigan as well!!).

Anyway, the Championship is a different story...
Norwich finally getting an away league victory for the first time since May 2004 at Crewe when they completed their Championship winning season to reach the Premier league. This time Ipswich were the perfect victims, and what a cracking match. Many errors, (Huckerby's miss), much excitement, (Huckerby's subersub goal), and a nail-biting finish. Like so many, the lower leagues, (and local loyalities!), offer more than money can buy, and that is not a cliche.

Last Friday, a metallic crash woke me, and I thought it was from the back, but my neighbour today confirmed the reason for the distortion of our bus shelter was in fact a white car that did something nearly impossible with the now obiously possible. That is destroy a bus shelter between two lime trees and still drive away. By chance Norwich buses are on strike at the moment, so we can exclude them from blame. Just lucky no-one was waiting in there...so even a strike has a plus side!

While writing lesson plans for my younger students, I was prompted to call my mother, due to a tightening chest and shortage of breath which is becoming all too common of late. I'm not sure if red wine is wise, but that's what she gave me, and an hour later some relief was reached. But even now, I feel like something has struck my chest...such is the pain. I am unable to use my left hand at these moments, and the light headedness becomes near suffocation. Therefore I've not done my spinal physiotherapy for 4 days.
But, but, but, onwards...everybody hurts, and no complaints for this here life, right!
Everyday I want to learn something new, and feel something new, accepting the errors in my ways, which I want to right; I'm here in part because of my own choices, but it's also true that it's not entirely my fault to be who I am - where I am - as I am, and it is as a humble human, that I write, teach, draw, share, live and hope.
If you're willing to walk with me, I'm happy, if not, I don't mind...anymore.
It's just as OK to be me, as it is for you to be you.

Now...Groove Armada (Dusk You and Me), take my evening away~~~

Music: Mission: Heaven on Earth
Chemical Brothers: Setting Sun
Susumu Yokota: Symbol of Life, Love and Aesthetics
Chris Spheeris: Joy of This Longing
Masakazu Yoshizawa: Zen Garden (2001)

Chelsea win again, no goals against, and there they go...
I heard on 5 live today various renowned commentators welcoming Rooney's sending-off...saying the 'lad' needed it. Yes, he did, and now I'll say no more on a subject which bores me slightly, if only for the fact that an unruly-but-talented 'man' gets away with it.

I cycled through the western fringes of a sprawling Norwich, which I knew so well as a relatively unchanging valley, where once a Scottishesque manor once stood and which hosted Victorian Royalty. I took some photos as it is in this area where the inevitable northern by-pass will be laid, cutting through, in my opinion, the loveliest part of the Norwich fringe. There is no-one to blame, and no hostility felt, only regret that our booming city has led to this problem.
Who would have thought that Norwich would have it's own 'orbital' to play with.
But it is a fact borne on progress that, regrettably, no one can deny the traffic problems within, (and sometimes outside) the city centre; sometimes 40 to 50 minutes to cross from one side to the other.
In my first spell here, late 70's through 80's, we never thought of Norwich as having 'sides' but now, we certainly do, as appointments made per phone are met with, 'which side are you coming-in from?'
Only 160,000 apparently, but increasing with age.
The mall nearly complete, and the simple 'trip to the city' is now called commuting...in Norwich...wow.

I've been called to go to Japan, but...I'm still in waiting for this MRI and other more urgent checks...the timing is getting tight. I will go...but the time that I go will determine what I can do over there...teaching, working, primarily, but I miss my friends, and the life there so much.
Other than England it is most homely of all the countries I've been to.
But I will also travel with my family next year, in Philippines. That will be for 4 weeks, pure holiday. I've been overworking for several years now, so it is something I want to do. And travelling makes me love it here all the more.

The guinea pigs now reside outside in a new hutch. They seem fine sheltered by clematis and mile-a-minute, where I can see them anytime from my windows. Not sure what the hedgehog thinks of it all though...he has a sprint of late.
I must tackle my autumn garden...I have some pumpkins and beans still doing ok. And a few blackcurrents also, but they are poor this year. Snails, for such a slow creature, always beat my neighbour and I everytime.
We compare notes and ailments these days.

Now I'm heading to the wine bar with my friend...

今日ははれです、でも、イングランドでは秋の天気はとても変わりやすいですな。
今朝、スポーツセンタに行った、物理療法をしました。すこしたいへん。
後で、サーキットで友達に会って、かのじょうはさみしい。。。
今夜　ワインバーに行くと重いいま～す。

Music: The Cult: Phoenix, (1985)
Franz Ferdinand: Do You Want To. (2005)
The Korgis: Everybody's Got To Learn Sometime. (1980)
Susumu Yokota: Symbol (2005)

Awoke with my late grandfather on my mind...my dream was at a health spa, with my parents and grandfather who had his usual humour, and he even managed one sentence of English, which never happened in real life, but he smiled gloriously. Comforting indeed.

Yesterday I was given a huge chocolate cake, from one of my work colleagues, which is delicious and terribly sweet. My stomach has given over to Asia and now finds English cake so heavy...but so tempting! (Now one room is more 'popular' than it should be.) I'd helped myself to three tabloid-sized slices when my student gave me a bottle of laid back ruby which was perfect. This I shared with my pet-loving friend who improves her English while studying 'trade' as I study Japanese, helped by laid back ruby and her good self.
I'd by then just finished a long conversation with my American friend about teacher's attitudes...he'd jacked it in years ago, but I'm not done yet.

I digressed, as I wanted to give a shout to my student, who also told me that during one of the heavier downpours in Norwich, he ran to an old lady who was leaving Starbucks without a coat...yelled in his stern accent, 'excuse me' and handed her his umbrella. He told me the lady was hysterically pleased and went on to say that in his mother land of the UAE, rain is rare, so he wanted to fully enjoy the downpour!!
I was impressed with his deed, but as for his opinion on British rain...what of October...November...December...???
The delights to come.^^

Hey, it's sunny outside, I should do my cycling before work, and visiting the Chinese store for my soya beans...

Music: System of a Down: Toxicity

The sudden and very welcome incursion of warm continental air on the 28th to 31st saved August from the distinction of being that rare feature of our current climate - a significantly cool month.

Even with this warmth, peaking with a reading of 30.2c on the 31st, the mean, or average, temperature of the month was slightly below normal.

A feature of August was the complete absence of any sustained warm weather, (something that we have erroneously allowed ourselves to expect every summer month), and the generally rather cool nature of many nights.

The month was favourable for the harvest, and providentially we were situated on the boundary of two very contrasting meteorological regimes, causing serious drought and heat over Iberia and much of France, and excessive rain's and serious flooding over parts of central Europe. This is not particularly unusual, as central Europe, especially in alpine regions, is prone to heavy rains in August.

The drought in Spain, and in particular Portugal has lasted for many months, and combined with unusually hot conditions, has created ideal conditions for widespread forest fires.

The severity and extent of the wind-induced damage and subsequent flooding caused by hurricane Katrina is almost impossible for us to fully comprehend.
The swathes of destruction and floods in parts of the states of Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama cover an area larger than the British Isles.

The severity of this dreadful storm was well forecast - indeed I cannot recollect ever hearing more apocalyptic warnings.

We must not assume that the intensity and associated destructive power of Katrina is indicative of global warming. It is true that hurricanes derive their energy from warm sea surface temperatures, and that tropical storms have doubled their destructive potential in the past thirty years due to a warming of ocean surfaces. However, this appears to be merely part of a natural cycle that reaches a peak every twenty to thirty years, the next peak due around 2020.

It must also be borne in mind, that part at least, of the increase in damage caused by hurricanes is due to the ever-increasing development of often rather flimsy properties in exposed locations.

With massive implications to coastal areas of Norfolk, the false economy, (or criminal negligence), of 'saving money' by not maintaining or upgrading sea flood defences, has been tragically apparent at New Orleans.

A 300 foot breach in a levee or dyke was the main contributory cause of the flooding of the city. In spite of long-standing warnings last year US federal budget cuts had halted work on at risk levees for the first time in 37 years.

August 2005

Total rainfall: 44.1mms
Wettest day: 10.8mms 24th
Days with rain: 15
Coolest day: 16.8mms 8th
Warmest day: 30.2c 31st
Average temperature: 16.2c

-NB

A hungry pair...Morris Womble Blogflirt and 'shyeye' Rodders eating beside...yes...loo roll.
Who thinks 'shyeye' Rodders, (far side), looks like Ernie Wise in his prime???

[This pic is for you. ^_- ]

It doesn't matter how you came,
it's how you go that matters.

I'm home, but it's only a temporary grace.
I'll surely enjoy the days I have remaining, as the best of my life. As I've been reminded at hospital, how precious and maybe short life can be. It'll be bumpy from now on, I know.
So, I'll share with only the truest from this day forth...those who show warmth and a genuine smile, and those who are exactly what make a human, human.
I'll cut back, preserve what I have left for the best in the rest.
I'm done with giving time to ^&*(*&'s...

'Smile' is the word, and the one that leads to a thousand other words, feelings, and should be welcomed, not always questioned.
A smile should not be beaten to a pulp...a helping hand from a hurt soul should not be snapped off, or bitten...but seen as a genuine attempt from a victim, to help and give something BACK to society, to try to rebuild their life, and confidence again. If a person appears weak...we should ask ourselves, "why?"' and not, attack them for it! This is a dreadful human failing, to pounce on weakness and kill it, destroy it, soil it and rubbish it...please, stop and think...next time, why is the soul weakened? They probably exelled once, as a mighty leader, and some happening(s) struck them down.
I said once before, on my blog, NEVER underestimate the power of words...they can be wires, daggers, perverse interogators, and swords reaching deep, to dig up the most vile memories in a person.
They can even push someone over the edge.
We must be careful with who we talk to, and how we use our words, sometimes, however tempted or emotional we ourselves may be...in the heat of battle, the war can be lost.

I'm with the underdog, the downtrodden, and despise judgemental, dissmissive shite aimed at defenceless victims.
To all those who kick sand in our eyes, damn you to hell!

言わぬは言う二勝ル
Iwanu wa, iu ni masaru.

Music: Depeche Mode: It's No Good.
Massive Attack: Angel, Dissolved Girl (Mezzanine, tracks 1 & 6)
You are not my savior
But I still don't go

My blog - an attempt to face the world,
after deep hurts, my body broken...
comatose and balancing the same note,
through not one
but two tunnels
and light so bright it made me hesitate
Shy was I the survivor thrice
tentative was I the blog writer thus
determined am I the person hence
I'm ONLY human living my life once

[Thanks Muse: Time is Running Out, played while writing.]

written before going to cardiology, 9am, Friday, September 16th.

So Liverpool did well, again it only took a few minutes of intense action to get the result.
And an early goal at Betistanbul, (^^), was perfect, so no-one can deny Benitez CL tactics.
I do wonder though, the team are not often outstanding for any length of time, and frequently under the cosh, but results go their way...as a Red I feel deservedly so, (we have tremendous spirit), but I would like to compare England's results, (before the last three appalling performances), and Liverpool's.
Eriksson was doing 'ok' before Denmark...to the extent that nobody seriously called for his head. (Now come on admit it, you criticised but didn't want him out did you? Poor James had more criticism than Sven.) Results just about came and England were on track, muddling through.
Liverpool last season? Early results showed absolutely no possibility of reaching any final...though the play was ok, results merely satisfactory, BUT also, on track in the C'sL, if not the Premiership.
Liverpool exelled and won the damn thing, and I'm still not touching ground yet, but England have faltered, and Eriksson is villafied...and to quite a degree - rightly so, but look at the whole picture as to how a few results change the entire outlook. We've all become so 'here and now' unable to see broader views...it is the same with the weather...
so many say, 'never known a summer/winter like it', but usually, (nearly all of the time), we all have!
With more facts than ever before us, we still, sometimes, can't see further than the ends of our noses.
Anyway, there are always exceptions, which is why I love this country!

I'm fascinated by Englishness again...I know it is not something to rave about anymore, or so we are subliminally informed, but this nation and it's wonderful people, barmy are some, ridiculous are others, silly am I, but recently I love us!!

My blood, like so many others, is not pure English at all, far from it, but I was born here, raised here, and only recently returned here. This island is unique, and, weather (sometimes) apart, an extremely wholesome and inspiring place to be...
not always the sunniest, not always the prettiest, certainly not the cleanest, but also, not the rudest, not the coldest and not the worst...I can associate with you England, more than I ever realised before.
I once threw my heart to another in another country very far away, it was cherished, used, then thrown back in my face, dirtied.
Now I awaken an Englishman once more, please forgive me England, I should never have thought less of you, for it is you I love.

I quote late 80's Mission lyrics for my feelings;
You raise me up
When I'm on the floor
You see me through
When I'm lonely and scared
And I'm feeling true to the written word
And you're true to me
And still I need more
It would tear me apart
To feel no one ever cared
For me
For me
For me
You are a tower of strength to me

To me
To me
To me
You are a tower of strength to me

I think this is all I feel, and all I want to say today, with thanks to The (UK) Mission, 1988, and love to England.

I am weakening by the minute, and contemplating letting Morris and 'shyeye' Rodders take over this blog for a while. Just a thought...

The greatest libraries are those that are read
-the most important words
are those that are never said
I am bugged by what I heard and never read;
hurt from my past - warmed by tomorrow,
my present wish - to help a friend safely ashore

Everyone can do it!
-survive,
-overcome...
...come what may

only...sometimes we lose it
all for the love of another
-heaven on earth
we are blessed, but it hurts

you can give the earth,
walk the earth for a lifetime,
and the earth will feed you,
free you and rejuvinate you

the bleeding heart
alas, takes another path
because it is far more precious
than any other on this earth!

[Written while listening to The Mission, "Butterfly on a Wheel"]

Today's musical therapy;
Mettle Music: capture pt.1
Killing Joke: nightime album
Tiesto: in search of sunrise 4
Buzzcocks: 16 again
Mission: heaven on earth

I remain nameless, so I shall say this only once, name me!

I feel you more deeply
every time September comes around
your memory kisses me
through sunbeams, below pines

I feel it so intently
every time evening draws-in
your kisses still mesmorise me
through moonlight, under stars

That filtered September sun,
searching through pines and birch
landing close to me
unable to pick up those fallen pieces
which went down
south in that glorious summer
when I could fly
and face the sun head on
now I turn, and hug myself
-it's enough for me
enough for me
yes-
enough for me..
now that September comes too soon
you rose like a sun
and went down when I was burnt
you saw another horizon
and kept your rays ahead
leaving me stranded and cast aside
in the faded light of day
Still feeling you
I stop to hug myself
-not enough for me
not for me
no-
not for me

----------

piece by piece I feel
all of you
from every piece
of me

Weekend past, and was it good?
Well, last Thursday and Friday were much better, Saturday and Sunday were simple days over the weekend, nothing more, nothing less.
Working and studying nihongo.
But Norwich City did get their first league win of the season, and Liverpool, drew 0-0...so that's three games, one win, two draws, ONLY one goal and none conceded.
Cisse is rightly upset, and Owen is on the other side of the Pennines...with none of our regular strikers having found the net in the Premiership yet. But early days, early days~~~

I'm listless today, lacking the joyous energy of the tail end of last week. My friend demanded so much of my time, and took so much of my energy, that I'm limping through the morning now. Helping another's emotional problems is a good deed, I believe, but in order to do our best, we ourselves get emotionally involved and totally drained.
Anyway, Morris Womble Blogflirt is by my side...

It's funny, but last September, Paul Oakenfold's, Southern Sun (Solarstone after hours mix) marked the whole territory of that autumn for me, and out of the blue, so it has this week too.
Listening to this song, in my car, by Yare Valley sunsets, and harvest moon delights, I'm spine-chilled beyond any words,
Seeking a past in every sunset, I see you each time, like a haunting, silhouetted cloud staring at me, before the golden sun slips away.

piece by piece
I release
what once was mine

The more you speak, the less I see
and the more I see of you
the less I speak to what's in front of me,
now silence and emptiness obscure the view

If I were you, in the mood I see in you,
My tears would surely stop,
us from falling apart,
and the mood you presently see in me,
would awaken the senses we 'see',
as opposed to the pain in-between,
breaking the happiness of our being-
...heard but never seen.

We shared, with no care of what would be,
The first meeting,on July's hottest evening,
11pm - bus station - you in white,
myself in black and white,
stony handshakes, but gloriously warm smiles,
language was, amongst other things, no boundary,
as we crossed path after path,
and met with one where we would lay...
under summer's spell,
Sentences were short, thoughts were deep,
on your beating heart I did sleep,
you became a butterfly in your first embrace,
sneaking a glance at your blessed face,
eyelids became wings unwilling to fly away,
your butterfly 'wings' flickered with longing,
and I lost all sense of belonging

Oh that August,
beneath biplane skies, and summer flies,
You tore a gaping hole through my heart,
Which I gleefully accepted,
Meeting you by park gates, and city lakes,
Seeing you wearing my coat,
And feeling your arm 'round me...
...holding your union jack umbrella,
we walked together, under southern rains,
a season of blissfull shelter.

I am accompanied tonight...by the loveable one...
Morris Womble Blogflirt...
who cuddles up to my chest as I type with right hand only.
I had just put my bicycle away and came perilously close to treading on a beloved hedgehog in the garden who feeds on bread.
MWB, (I credit two delightful suggestions, (thank you!), and one my own, for this name), seems to have got over the shyness, at least for tonight. With the brewing thunderstorm expected later, tomorrow may be a little reserved. He'll need a mother's pampering by then, no doubt.

It's getting a little late now, as the moon pulls the curtain open,
and I'm thinking this gloriously warm September...

このモルモットはとてもかわいいですね。

I am guided by your smile,
and the words you write
The way you don't always talk to me,
and the soothing sounds from your soft english,
-I've learned to copy your sounds,
and go with all your moods

Guided by your eyes,
and the steps you take
The way you don't always walk away from me,
and the soothing sounds from your soft kiss,
-I've learned to copy your style
and go! (along) with all your dreams

There are many reasons and occasions to feel out of it, to be lost, deliberately or otherwise, to feel wronged, hurt, and needing to run, it is all too common.
But while we are 'in flight' we can discover so much, and feel a type of inner power...however, there is a point where we are out on a limb, a tad too far, and that is the time to come home...and hold on to what we hold most dear. Even the most flighty people have a stronghold somewhere!
In loneliness, we are never truly alone.
And the further we run, the further we have to eventually travel back again, though our refuge, our space, "...the place that you go...", is essential for modern living, certainly for those with sensitivity.
But I fully admit that the pain of feeling like you don't belong, one which I've fought for years before, is an arduous, uncomfortable and most unwelcome visitor that calls at horrid times...in the midst of a joyous evening out, at the movies, on a bus, during sleep, through our most important daily events. It takes but a second to cast our whole persona in shade, but a whole lot more to bring back the sunshine...often hazy at that. This is where our inner strength must come into it's own, if we are alive and with the living, we must show it when we really need it, however hard and tortuous that may be.
No-one must ever underestimate themselves, nor the feelings they have...the best way is to admit to ourself what we truly feel, work it through our system, become open to it, and share it, if at all possible. Denial is often damaging.
Acceptance even harder, but more fruitful in the longrun.

Even if we never realise it, there is ALWAYS someone who cares very much about us.
Some of us need more attention than other's,
...some get more than other's.
As I've written before, the power of words and actions are immense...it can take but one word or action to turn our whole life around!

From my humble corner view, I don't profess to have any answers, but I do hurt, I do try, and I do care.

Come along
the music will cheer us
add substance to our imaginations
I'll drive - anywhere...there? wherever
the destination is irrelevant
only you and I matter
The beat captivates us -
no words
the car steers us -
no words needed...
it never felt so good
to be behind the wheel,
to be beside you
guided by uplifting words unspoken.

It was one of those magical days, when all falls into place...such a rarity...when mind, body and soul are all on the same wavelength, all in sync' and an energy I've not felt since my first day back from Japan last autumn.
This is what living is all about, moments like this, when we feel we can do anything, for tomorrow I maybe cannot, shall not, or will not...but for today, it's all within reach, if only for this moment, it is what I strive for in life. I can recover when days like this fall, please send me another!

I've had so many hard times in the past two years, too many, but that's life, (my friend says it 'sux', and so it does, but I don't want to dwell on that side), and even one occasional day like this, will be enough to make me realise that our energy can come from within ourselves...
It's not bad at all, being YOU!

Oh, who wants me to post a photo of my (nearly-named: thank you for THOSE suggestions!) guinea-pigs?

Work! ...was completed and I headed out again, I love the peace, space, trees and...this place to breath in the counter-balancing goodness all around.
I strenuously teach at home, (and I enjoy it), often with no free space, and a spine that constantly gets jealous of my wishes to be ... me.
But pushing my bike to the road, getting on carefully, and peddling in the God-given safest position my doctor declared, I go...go for miles, on paths, cycle routes, dreams and in search of something reassuring.
Wondering why dog poo is shunned upon, whereas horse poo never trodden on...and on...

-I steer my wheels somewhere between the two, incidentally-

I had a bizarre dream last night...actually, the deepest part was just before waking at 6.10am...so deep in fact that, unusually for me, I was unable to speak for a good 20 minutes after shut-eye had ebbed away. Part of me was still 'out there' and I wanted it back for my day ahead.
I was in an airship, over Hampden Park, in the 1930's and my dream was in sepia...it circled the packed stadium, without cover, spinning past over 100,000 fans, with green pastures to one side, cows showing no interest, as the airship headed right through the northernmost stand and into a high-tech, darkened and well-ordered library, the proud possession of...Rangers FC!
'We' (I do not know who I was with, but they were with me all the way), headed for the thin slice of the meterological library, (all sections were in 'almond-slice' order, the met library being second from the huge window overlooking the football pitch...which must now, presumably, have been Ibrox?), seeking some data, and though the area was darkened, colour was evident.
A Robin Cook type gentleman guided 'us' offering courtesy, but heralding the immediate departure of all other's with a knock and shout from the said librarian.
Within seconds the data was found, and 'we' were off, to the sound of morning, and here, right now...

Firstly, congratulations Northern Ireland, that was quite outstanding...as much so as England were poor.
This season seems to be seminal for the Premiership, super-league wages and the England national side. I remember 1981 being a bad year for the national team, and for the old First Division, (the "missing millions"), but in 1982 England did rather well in Spain...but this is the third very bad national team performance in a row, and I'm listening to Alan Green's R5 live views...but England are the Brazil of the north, or is that Sweden??

I was all set up for my cycle therapy and made it 4 miles outside the city, when my phone shot a message from my pocket and signalled a halt to the adventure..only 5 photos, and a maximum 8 miles was disappointing. But what great warmth this autumn...no rain here for over a week...
...a perfect time to find my friend offering me two guinea pigs! One was called 'fluffy' huuh..but any suggestions for a chestnut coloured one?

you came to me again,
this time for real, and not in my dream,
your words touched me just as before,
you reached me again,
where my heart left you the key,
-it's been flying lost without you,
over our precious places where we once lay,
and through the skies, in dreams, in all my days,
I am still reaching you,
holding on to something so precious.
3pm and your words ring through me,
was I dreaming, or did you touch my heart one more time,
you still beat within me
though I am living a life far away
the vision is feint, the voice distant, the life remote,
but somehow we relate,
over the miles,
over the lands, stretching painfully, joining hands,
your voice echoes through me, closing my eyes,
never wanting to see today,
treasuring all that I hold in my hands,
one side warming me,
the other warning me,
within is without,
without is within,
to begin, without a finish,
to finish, with or without,
motions stop...autumn overtakes me,
hesitating, awaiting the place where the leaves shall rest.

Tuesday dawned in spectacular fashion, with a pillared-sunrise over the direction of Norwich international, and barely toasted 'toast, peanut butter with salami...my weakness, so sorry! I hope you forgive me more than my stomach does.

Today I have no idea what I shall write, but my veins are filled with fire, my heart with memories, and my eyes with Norfolk, leaving my head crammed full of here, now and tomorrow's. I have left yesterday to yesterday along with all it's yesterday's, so yesterday is no more, but I sense, (as well as knowing myself better than I know my tomorrow), Wednesday will bring back yesterday, before tomorrow comes.

I'd like to give a shout to Tiesto, "In Search of Sunshine 4" which is right up there with my favourites, and doing wonders for my evening...with back door open, warmth coming and going at will, pastis more down than not!
My special friend contacted me this week, asking if it's possible to have picnic's in Norfolk, in February?
Well, we on the east coast can sometimes control the Broads and Fens, but not what falls from up above. God I hope we can have a fine February...it does happen doesn't it. Our plan is a seaside picnic...but that might be a plan too chilled to bring into reality.
And I am still yelling at my spine to stop the snap, crackle pop, and start feeling guuurAAATTTEEE again, so I can manage the 12 hour flight from Norwich to Tokyo again. Last year I was grounded for 8 hours in beautiful Schipol airport, but the capping of my excitement spelled the unwanted announcement of a delayed migraine, which bizarely landed ahead of schedule, just...HERE.
On board I recovered some sanity, but when the real thing came knocking I was in trouble, and panic set-in slightly...so I headed for the 'capsule' toilet, cold-washed my face, ignored the 'alien' in the mirror, slunked out, ("slunk-slink even on the longest trips!'), and requested Heineken, wish granted, I downed the lot and went to sleep.
Miracles do happen in small tins, and a couple of hours later, I was Heineken-san, and raring to land!
今、Ｈｅｉｎｅｋｅｎは一番好きな飲み物。

Thereafter, I was made, and enjoyed everything.
I'm longing to return.

The noodles in my bowl,
larger than I care to remember,
steaming hot back then, last November...and I want to return to the baker which served soya bean bread with soft sesame...yes, my mind is there now...not today, yesterday, or tomorrow, but up there in the place we can rejoin on our travels, when time, money or health allow. It's always up there...we never look down on our best memories, and if we think of them, recollect and rejoice in them, we find ourselves looking up, happier, ...beginning again...we know how.

in you the song that rights my wrongs,
in you the fullness of living,
the power to begin again...from right now...
in YOU....
[ Faithless: We Come 1 ]

A sweet September smile, before thoughts of many of your blogs had a power surge in my head whilst tackling cycle therapy today. Yes, many of you reach my daily life!!
And the infant lightbulb above me spoke of my own blog...and then, questioning myself; 'What the hell do you think of my blog???'
I have no fear, and accept the pitfalls, the fact that I'm writing in the same room as many, but against that wall the juts out and minimises my presence. I can hear the chatter, view the gossip, chuckle at the side comments, swoon at some, and drool over others...I am happy to be in the room, in my little space, on my warm burgundy cushion, and at times...listening-in and looking-out.
So many of you are good people, thank you.
As I heal my spine, little by little, I hope I'm learning too.

I can't live....with or without you...
[U2]

Well now, onto a subject I've not 'touched' on before...and is not one I delve into often, but let me explain what I cannot explain...
As you know from my blog...I use the Marriott's Way out of Norwich, and often take photos...covering most of it over the course of a summer. But there is one stretch, near Attlebridge, which is constantly cast in pine forested darkness, like a nightclub by day...ghostly - intense...and like so much is going on but nothing is ever seen.
A feeling hits me, as if I've come at the wrong time...every single time!
In May I constantly photographed two pretty darn fine rhododendron's only to find hours later that the image was blurred. Never being put-off, I tried again, and again...and the Canon camera failed to get any decent image, in varying weather conditions. So, I took two phone camera's and tried in July...and once more, a curious blurring was all that could be seen. A tripod, fencing post, ground gave stability, but still the blurring occurred. In late July I finally got a new Samsung digital camera thinking this would finally clear the image. And to my amazement, the batteries, (still new), died on me. So I continued towards Reepham, and as I switched on, ...yes of course the batteries were fine again. Just a blip I thought, Lawson's law!
So returning home, I stopped in the dense, sun-filtered pine forest for another go...and blow it, it was out cold.
Over the following days, and weeks, I tried in vain...it jammed once, died once, and went blurred or became so dark on the other occasions...my family advised me to stop it, forget it. So I duly did just that.
I have no explanation...and just wonder, why this should be?
All photos in the wood, just 20 or so meters up or down from the said spot, are fine and clear.

Now I'm lonely, now I'm weak, sleep awaits, until the next...

Painted this week by Wilfred, aged 100.

Bridges...
a place to meet, to cross, to ponder
So many,
bridges hosting a view, a chat, sms, photo...
a turning point,
flirting,
with the view,
and wishing it was you.

I ambled through west Norwich suburbs, limping with my bike, remembering my physiotherapist's words whilst shaking my hand last week, to keep my tummy in, hold my spine straight and upright, and work on the neck too.
All were practised with the help and protection of mighty oaks, as the acorns begun to fall, together with the warm crunch n' crackle underfoot.

The clearness of the local rivers had been lost on me in 2005 thus far, but this afternoon I praised it with a couple of photos, though the fish were, surprisingly, absent today. I hope it was not the fault of the blue and red shirted kids from last week. My suburb has many ingenious oddities...five nights ago three lads, or shall we call them chaps for anonymity, together with a fatherly shadow, decided that a funeral director's glorious apple tree was right for picking, and so they did strip...IT of all it's crop. The sack used was similar to a Royal Mail grey letter bag, and they filled it, at least three-quarters to the top. Furthermore, the performance was illuminated, or should that be floodlit, and screened live in a police office nearby.
All this before midnight.
Tim Pope may have written such a script himself, ...for a music video even.
"I Want to be a Tree" (1983/84??) anyone?

Well, I pace myself since returning from Germany, and the cycle 'therapy' is mostly fine, but some days I'm straining to return home, while other days I feel I can make it to the fascinatingly named, Themelthorpe curve. The friendly faces I pass each time on Marriotts Way have encouraged me greatly, unbeknown to those dear, familiar but nameless souls...and I now try to reach their own 'haunts', without ever intruding, so as to push myself that bit more. I can cycle on air, for all but a few minutes, but the feeling is my first positive sign that the physiotherapy is just beginning to work, or should that be kick-in??

(I cannot 'take it easy'
but always prefer to try a bit harder,
push a bit more,
go a bit faster and futher than before)

The foray into summer seems to have ended today, 3rd September, with dark news of New Orleans arriving before sunrise.

Nature's almighty forces can never be tamed, shaped, or avoided, but our reaction, (and more pressingly, the speed with which you respond to urgent, widescale disasters), to the catastrophic events that follow surely can.
On Boxing Day 2004 that call was answered by many millions.
But this week has seen the worst from nature followed by the worst of human lunacy, weakness, and savagery.
As I heard this morning, from an American on site, "This is a terrifying example of how a city can go from the 21st century to third world conditions within 72 hours."
These are the truest words yet spoken.

How many more reminders do we all need, that we are not just nations giving and suffering, but we're all in it together, and sooner or later it'll be our turn.

So many suffering, victims...some of crime more than katrina.
I am too ashamed to call ourselves 'animals'...though thankfully we retain enough of our world to have the survival instinct, and some human enough to show compassion when and where it counts.

I have more faith in the blogging community than I do in the world's Government's.

Sidetrack...and now I digress...

Sometimes I love my PC,
and SOMEtimes I hate it.

...how much should what I see before me, be part of my life?

What role do your blogs play in your lives buddies?
I think blogging has given something (good) back to using the internet. Don't you think so?

A movement in still life...straight out of hell, unable to tell, ...myself whether it's testing me, or perplexing me...

but,
as sure as ball cock's are stumbling blocks, humbling stocks of pain ...10pm, bath over, floodgates opened. The attic tanks decided to raise the roof, being undone only by gravity, which heaved the torrents down to earth like sheets desperately saving souls from their fate, and then slowly seeping down the walls, stairs, bookcases and out through the doors, ...ironically! The hot weather, or more likely, outside works cordon were the probable reasons for my second major flood inside 5 weeks.
Not one but two ball cocks had succumbed to a sudden surge in water pressure, then a dramatic drop-off after the work outside on the road was complete, and my 'geyser-attic' was baptised. Three sides of my house became submerged in an ox-bow-lake form.
Stretching desperately into my loft, trying to rectify the mysteriously misbehaving ball-cock's was something the spine could have done without, as my ladder is out on loan. (I thought, with a slipped disc, how could I use it this year?)
Well, I made do with a kitchen chair, topped with a stool, flattened with 8 books including Hans Christian Andersen's works, and some pastis. Climbing the fairytale-like climbing frame I'd just created, it took me a good 30 minutes to both physically and mentally slide upwards into the attic...and the pain was electrifyingly grape. The geyser attic was surreal, in the 28 degree heat outside, and with a Lee Sharpe article still freshly circulating within my cranium, I tackled the tanks and failed. So, at the late hour, I had my finest, prodding my finger into the guilty pipe, and lessening the flood.
It took me 6 hours to again move my back either forwards, or backwards, and 12 hours later I am here in front of you (know what) typing this.

Have any of you had two floods within two months or two ball-cock's packing up on the same day?
It seems that many things come in 2's or even 3's.

After katrina I know I am the lucky one as my house has held firm in our benign climate.
We have all been reminded in so many ways of the immense power of the natural elements that shape our world in more ways than we know how to deal with.