Moods

My mood is still restless, and I can feel it physically as butterflies in the stomach. I know the cure; some of that cheap, fizzy, sweet cider from the supermarket. The weather is expected to deteriorate this afternoon, so I'll take advantage of the bright weather we have at the moment, and go now.

In general

The mousetrap didn't catch anything last night. I'll leave it in the same place until tomorrow. If it still hasn't caught anything I'll try laying it somewhere else. There are sure to be more of the rodents around, and I don't want them near my food.
On to a completely different subject now. I've neither seen nor heard from the person who was supposed to be visiting me this weekend. I'm obviously a bit disappointed, but I had prepared myself for this possibility beforehand.

Later on

It's going to be another quiet one at home. I don't know what I'm eating tonight. I'll make my mind up once I'm at the supermarket. I want to take some cuttings before dinner, to give them a chance of growing before the autumn sets in. I will either watch films, read, or both, or neither.

Just now

I had a good session at the historic building. There were visitors, but they came in fits and starts. There were several quiet times. Quite a few of the visitors sat and listened for a bit, and I had some very kind comments about my playing. That's the sort of day I like, but I'd love to see more visitors.

Now

It's a funny old world. I'm sitting here thinking to myself. Some people don't think, they don't know, yet they talk and talk. Others both think and know, yet they don't talk. I suppose the more one talks, the more one is heard, and perhaps that can give the impression of authority or knowledge. I don't know really. It's pure supposition. I was just wondering, after hearing people talking in the library. Sometimes silence is indeed golden.

A musical interlude

I've just been booked to do my 'Knees Up Mother Brown' stuff for a charity event next month. I find it very encouraging that people are approaching me to play for them. That's the second bite this week, the other being for the English Virginalists stuff. Yay!!!

This morning

After coffee, fags and a bath, I went to the wardrobe to sort out my 'concert gear' for later. Today I'm all dressed in black and white. This choice must have been instinctive; shortly afterwards I remembered that my Mum died fifteen years ago today. It has been on my mind ever since. So much unsaid, so much undone. I now wish that we had been able to speak about things when she was alive. She wanted to but I was in complete denial. I have always known she was a good woman. That has kept me going, despite the way our lives were.

Moods

My mood was unsettled throughout yesterday evening, with my mind flitting from one thing to another. Sometimes events, sometimes feelings, sometimes people, the thoughts just kept on coming. It stayed with me during the night. I woke up several times during the night, and when I got up at six this morning, I felt as if I'd been watching films all night.

Last night

I had a nice easy dinner of frozen hamburgers. I'm quite partial to them now, and tart them up with a variety of extras. Afterwards I watched Fanny By Gaslight (1944), a delightful melodrama with Jean Kent, James Mason, Phyllis Calvert and Stewart Granger. Afterwards I watched a few Laurel & Hardy films before turning in at a quarter to eleven.

Now

The library can be a barrel of fun. Usually I work in silence, but just now someone I know from the museum came in and we nattered very briefly. Some miserable fat git in the corner, red face, glasses and headphones, could do with a wash, decided to lose his rag with us. Ain't it bleedin' typical.

A musical interlude

I'm looking forward to my two harpsichord sessions this weekend. I am happy to have found out that people who are knowledgeable about Elizabethan music do visit us, so there may be further opportunities for me to play at different places.
I've also got the pub on Sunday night. I'm looking forward to seeing the people who take the trouble to come and see me. Once the pennies are sorted out I shan't need to do it. Not unless I want to, that is.

Our national sport

There has been widespread media coverage of alleged corruption at FIFA. Obscene amounts of money are thrown at the game. Advertising deals and the bottomless pit of money connected with football must surely be a temptation to the corrupt and the unscrupulous. It therefore comes as no surprise to me that there may be corruption within the game. In fact I should be astounded if there weren't.

Moods

All very unsettled at the moment. My thoughts are many and varied, and follow in quick profusion. This is a time for reflection and consolidation. I know the truth of how my life is. I just need to find a way of accepting it. That shouldn't be too difficult.

Last night

I ate the remains of my Italian-style oxtail with some spaghetti and enjoyed it. Afterwards I watched three Bulldog Drummond films: Bulldog Drummond Comes Back (1937), Bulldog Drummond Escapes (1937) and Bulldog Drummond's Bride (1939). I should have watched them in a different order; the narrative might be as follows: he homes back, gets married, and then escapes. All good harmless fun, and requiring no concentration. I went to bed at ten.

The visit

I'm expecting my close person to visit today. On the other hand she may not arrive. I've not heard from her since the beginning of last week, so am still none the wiser. It may be that in her mind she's told me she's coming, therefore the visit has been arranged. On the other hand she may think she isn't visiting because she hasn't confirmed the arrangement.
She has always been like this, and I know she doesn't mean anything by it. It's just the way her mind works. She's really one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I know. It's just that any arrangements with her may or may not happen. I do hope she comes though, because it's always such a joy to see her. At the same time I am prepared for the possibility that I might be on my own this weekend.

Robert Burns: 'To A Mouse'

"Wee sleekit cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
                   Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
                    Wi' murd'ring pattle!"



Burns wrote these words in November 1785, having disturbed a mouse's nest while ploughing. He was obviously fonder of this rodent than I am of the ones I have at home.
When I got home yesterday afternoon, I baited my new, high-tech mouse-trap with peanut butter, and placed it in a cupboard, near the pipes where the animals emerge. When I looked this morning I saw a mouse dangling from the upturned trap. I was so pleased that the trap had worked, and that I hadn't wasted any more money. At the same time I felt sorry for the mouse, and horrible for having killed it. I do hope that its death was instantaneous, and that it didn't suffer.
I cleaned and disinfected the area, and re-set the trap in a different place. That mouse's friends and relations are sure to be nearby. Mice don't come in ones.

Now

The library has been inundated with jellyfish and miskerlaneus invertebrates. Very head-numbing indeed. Methinks it's about time I left. I'm looking forward to setting the mouse trap.

My ordeal

I had to phone the social security people to put in a claim for an allowance to which I think I'm entitled. I was on the phone for nearly seventeen minutes. It was a horrible experience. The person at the other end warned me that he would ask some questions more than once. Then he proceeded to do so, over and over again. It was a massive head fuck. My mouth went bone dry. I felt trembly and my head is still pounding. It's a pity they couldn't think up a process that is a bit friendlier to those who find phones difficult.

Just now

I've just had a successful bus trip up to the shopping precinct. I found the rooting powder I need to do some cuttings. I also got this:

That should sort the buggers out.

The news

I am very happy to learn that Nebraska has abolished Capital Punishment. That ruling does go some way to restoring one's faith in humanity, as does the ground-breaking news that Eire has legalised same-sex marriage. Marriage is something that I would feel uncomfortable with, but it's not for me to say, and I certainly would not wish to deny anyone their right to happiness and to live their lives as they would wish. What possible harm is being done to mankind by people marrying their partners of whatever gender?
What does not inspire confidence are the stupid, fanatically emotional reactions to the news from various religious organisations. It's such a pity for mankind that some individuals and organisations preach such intolerance, rather than opening their eyes and looking, and seeing that we are all human beings.

The weather

It's been very changeable today. It was fairly bright when I woke up, but during the morning I watched it become increasingly overcast and chilly. When I set out at 9am there were masses of black clouds, but since then we've got the blue skies back. The sun is warm but there's a coldish breeze today.

How am I?

Back to normal. I had a bumpy night and woke up at five this morning. First thing, my ribs clicked when I coughed, but have stopped doing so now.
I enjoyed Tuesday so much, and still had hold of the feeling yesterday. I think that's why I enjoyed my dinner.
I feel very tired today, and quite tense and unsettled on the inside. I can manage fine though. I'll just ride with it until it passes.

Fauna

I was confident that the poison I put down recently had got rid of the mouse problem. I was wrong. I saw one of the little sods in the front room yesterday evening. I shut the door and put a trap down. Fat lot of good that was. The rodent ran across it about four times without activating it. I tried throwing a safety boot at the creature, but missed each time. I tried spraying it with various household cleaners, but to no avail. It's now time for drastic measures. I'm off to the big hardware place in the shopping mall later on, to get something more high-tech.

Last night

I cooked some oxtail and thoroughly enjoyed it. Afterwards I settled down with some Sherlock Holmes dramatisations starring Peter Cushing and Nigel Stock. The stories I watched were A Study in Scarlet and The Boscombe Mystery. I turned in at about half past nine.

Bargain hunting

I struck gold yesterday afternoon. First I got three pairs of shorts and a shirt for three pounds. Then I went to the supermarket and got thirteen pounds worth of meat at half price! It was like Christmas!!

Just now

I popped out to have a fag in the glorious sunshine. One thing struck me; I didn't see anyone with a walking-stick or wheely walker. It was not until just as I was finishing my smoke, that I saw someone go whizzing past on a tractor. I wonder what happened?

Unimpressed

The Vatican has apparently called Ireland's legalization of same-sex marriages 'a defeat for humanity'.
Actually, it is that organization's views on such things as birth control, and the various henchmen who enforce it, which are humanity's true defeat.
Honestly, haven't those parsimonious bigots got anything more important to worry about?

Tonight

I feel really cheerful after my harpsichording session, and I'm going to be extravagant later and have a drop of wine. I fancy having something nice for dinner too, but I can't make my mind up what to have. It's a beautiful, warm, summery day, so I expect I'll combine a trawl of the charity shops with a trip to the supermarket. Ain't I exciting!

Bewildered, of Accrington

On the bus I couldn't help noticing the astonishing number of people who had walking-sticks, or were on mobility devices. Why should our area have such a high proportion of citizens who can't or won't walk? Is there something in the local gene pool that causes this? Is there a strange sort of Siamese Twin here, where one half is human and the other half is stick, and they both grow up permanently attached to each other? Or is it a psychological dependence on something to lean on? I'm completely baffled. I'd love to know what's causing it.

Observation

My friend commented this morning that I always sleep well when I go to visit. Actually I always sleep well when I go to visit anyone. I got thinking. When I'm on my own, which is most of the time, I don't talk at all. When I visit, I talk. I wondered if I sleep so badly because I don't talk, and all the things I might have said go round and round in my mind, because I haven't expressed them.
I realised too that I always eat properly when I visit someone. That doesn't surprise me. Food is much more enjoyable with people I feel comfortable with.

Yesterday

Early in the afternoon I met up with my friend. We went to their house in the village and I helped with a bit of gardening. That was fun, and one of my favourite pastimes. Then we went down to were they currently reside. I cooked a bolognaise, and there was copious vino to go with it, and we watched one of me old Ealing Comedies. Lovely, just like our student days!

A musical interlude

I've just had one of the best days ever. One lady sat down for about a quarter of an hour to listen, and was soon joined by several others. Afterwards she asked me some pertinent questions about what I was playing. Then she introduced herself. She is one of the people who run one of the most famous stately homes in the country, and she wants me to go and play there. I'm so excited!

Now

I'm starting to calm down a bit now, but hands, arms and legs feel tingly. My mood isn't the best. Loud noise really does make me feel unwell. I could have exploded, big time. I'll speak to my nice, thoughtful neighbours, the cunts, when I feel  calm enough.

Weather update

It's beautiful outside, and very warm. It's more like summer than spring. I hope summer will be plenty more of the same. The weather is doing wonders for my balcony. The lilies are now growing about half an inch per day.

Earlier

The incessant, inane babbling at the library got to much, so in went the earplugs. The outcome was that I missed a call I'd been waiting for. I was so panicked I left my memory stick behind, containing lots of personal data. Luckily it was still attached to the computer when I came back to look.
As I was about to say, I went home to sort out a couple of films. On the way there I thought I'd like to sit on the balcony for a bit. When I got there, the excessively loud music with pounding, repetitive bass lines changed my mind. I went straight out again, and sat in the relative quiet for half an hour. I feel as if I could explode.
I don't want to have to tell complete strangers that I am autistic, and that noise affects me very badly. I shouldn't have to in the first place, should I? A little bit of consideration for others would have prevented the problem from occurring. I could cry.

Today

It must be Amoeba Awareness day at the library. The place is positively infested with them. Fucking halfwits.

Just now

My friend from uni contacted me to say he'll be in town at lunchtime. Great news, as I couldn't see him last time because of the fit. It'll be another one of those nights with me old films, probably after one of my chili-con-carnes. I'm looking forward to it already. It has cheered me up.

Weather

Yesterday started off lovely, but it clouded over and grew cooler as the afternoon went on. I woke up to a beautiful summer's day, and so far it's stayed like it. Hope springs eternal.

A musical interlude

My musical activities became more enjoyable as the weekend progressed. Well sort of.
A few people sat and listened to my harpsichord stuff on Sunday, but there were more visitors than on Saturday. Yesterday was best of all. I had some really lovely comments from visitors, and more people spent time listening to, and enjoying  what I played.
The pub was a different matter. It was busy alright, but not with my sort of people, so I just played until a quarter to nine. I stayed for a glass of wine afterwards. I had one very prickly moment when a fat woman sat down close up to me on the bench and wanted to sing. I panicked and the defences went up. That sort of proximity to strangers really freaks me out. Anyway, the sort of songs she wanted me to play showed me she was just taking the piss. I shocked her by playing a couple of them. She'd had a drop to drink, and was over-compensatingly chatty afterwards. I let the stupid mare buy me a drink before completely ignoring her.
There are people I know socially, although not very well, who come in to see me most Sundays. I really appreciate that support, and don't take it for granted. It cheers me up every time I see them. On the other hand I have friends who never come to see me. I do not include my close people, of course, who are separated by distance, or whose extreme workloads or other commitments prevent them from coming. One of my close people who has issues with the place I play at has even put himself out to come to see me on several occasions But there are people who are in the area on Sundays who never come. I can't help drawing conclusions from that. That's reality for you.
What I do really doesn't matter in the end. I've decided that once my income is more reliable, I'm going to give the old pub mullarkey the old heave-ho.

Last night

I had a lovely dinner of bangers, lentilles a l'ancienne and crusty rolls. Afterwards I watched Barnacle Bill, a lovely Ealing Comedy, and Dr Syn. I turned in around half past nine and slept until six, waking up only a few times during the night. Not quite so tired this morning.

Saturday night

I felt pretty tired, and watched a couple of Carry On films after a very uninspiring home-made curry. I started with Sergeant and finished with Jack.
I turned in at ten, only to be woken up at 4am by 'im upstairs ranting very loudly and banging things around. It went on for a good twenty minutes. I got up and had a fag or two, and managed to nod off again around five. I don't know who lives upstairs, but I think it's the people next door, and that they have a maisonette rather than a flat. I'm going to speak to them when I see them. That sort of thing just ain't on.
I got up exhausted at about eight.

A musical interlude

I'm going to be busy the next couple of days. I'm playing both afternoon and night, and Monday afternoon too. On Sunday I'll brink the keyboard & stuff home in the afternoon, take it to the pub in the evening, and bring it home again afterwards. I'll take it back to the old building on Monday morning, but won't have to move it again until the following Sunday. It ain't easy.

Tonight

It's going to be more of the same. I don't know if I'm going to cook, but I'll get a few things in just in case. I feel quite tired after today's harpsichording, so shan't want to watch anything too demanding. Also my mind is too busy just now, and I just want something I won't have to concentrate on. Actually I want something I don't have to take any notice of. I think a couple of Carry On films should sort me out.

Just now

I had an indifferent sort of day at the place where I play. What I saw was visitors walking past and taking no notice. What I am told is that people sat in adjacent rooms and listened. When I think about it that makes sense. Some of the people took ages to come back out of the end room.
Someone wrote 'the musical accompaniment is surreal' in the visitors' book. Actually the music is quite in keeping with the house, and authentic to the time the house was built. What is really surreal are the writer's ignorance, lack of education and misunderstanding of culture.

The weather

We've had a couple of gloriously sunny, warm summer days. That's all changed today. I woke up to a horribly gloomy sort of light. That has improved very slightly. It's not at all cold though, and there is only the lightest of breezes. I wonder if it will brighten up later.

Now

My mood hasn't really improved yet. My thoughts are sombre and uncomfortable, and come in quick profusion. My professional training as a musician has kicked in. I wear a neutral expression. I don't want people to ask me how I feel. I don't want to say. It would really annoy me. I just want to get on with life.

This morning

I woke up after half past six this morning, which is later than I'm used to. I don't feel refreshed though; my sleep was interrupted by my ribs, and I woke up repeatedly during the night. I took my time with the coffee and fags, and enjoyed my little garden on the balcony.
I'm all dressed up like a turkey, ready to play in a couple of hours. I'm wearing my new suit today. It does look smart, and I'm very pleased with it.

Yesterday

I really enjoyed my bus ride to the country. The countryside was particularly lovely, with verdant, rolling hills. It's exactly what I like most about this country. When I was waiting for the bus to come home, I watched swallows darting about. I'm not really interested in what they do, but I do like to see them.

Last night

) had some of the previous day's pasta for dinner. It was alraight, but I think I was bored with it. I just couldn't be bothered to cook. Afterwards I watched The Magnet (1950), a very clever Ealing Comedy. Then I watched Etoile Sans Lumiere (1946), a melodrama starring Edith Piaf & Yves Montand. It was really nothing more than a vehicle for Miss Gassion to warble, but I rather enjoy the film. Bed at half past nine.

Thinking

I now realize why my mood is as it is. I've done a hell of a lot of thinking lately, and a chunk of my life has fallen into place. I don't particularly like what I see though.
In the meanwhile I've just come to a library in a different town so as I could download the photos I've just taken. That seems too much to ask at the moment. The bloody computers won't allow me to do it. Fume.

Just now

I  have just visited a village where my ancestors come from. It was pretty when I saw it, but I know it wouldn't have been at all pretty in the days when it was a working village. It would have been noisy with the sound of the smithy, all the carts, the animals, the farm labourers. The only noise now is from the traffic. It would have stunk of animal shit, and would have had a muddy track instead of a made-up street.
There was no trace of my people in the churchyard. Either the gravestones haven't survived, or they were too poor to have their own graves. They were certainly well-off a couple of generations later.
I'm glad I went. I enjoyed the ride.

Now

I've had enough of tapping away at computers, and sitting indoors when the weather promises to pick up. My mood is still not as I would like it, and I quite fancy the bus ride. I must snap out of it. I'm getting on my own nerves.

Today

I was wide awake by a quarter past five, and sloped into the front room for the coffee and fags. The day started off bright, but it's clouded over a bit since then. I fed the plants and gave them their weekly soak in the bath, before plugging in some more family history stuff. Our library's computers are out of bounds today, as they are being upgraded (again, again), so here I am in the next town and using theirs.
I'm thinking of going for a lengthy bus trip today, on the family history trail. I fancy visiting a village where some of them came from.

Yesterday afternoon

When I was on my way to the bus-stop on the way back from the shopping precinct, I bumped into someone I see at the library. She wanted a natter, so I sat down with her. The stupid mare started going on about her beliefs and then tried to 'convert' me. I told her I am an atheist, that she was wasting her time, and to stop shoving her beliefs down my throat. How fucking arrogant of her. Who does she think she is? That sort of thing does make me angry.

How am I?

Yesterday I built my hopes up a bit too early. Around tea-time my ribs started aching with a vengeance, and I have been getting some very sharp twinges. The pains come from different places, so I suppose it's the muscles trying to settle down. The pain disturbed my sleep, and is still with me. I do hope this won't go on for too much longer.

Last night

I finally got my act together & actually cooked something for dinner. It was nothing too extravagant, only a meat sauce and pasta, but at least I did it. And I ate it. I watched It Always Rains On Sunday (1947), an enjoyable melodrama with Googie Withers, John McCallum and Jack Warner. I love the bit at the end where she goes bonkers and sticks her head in the oven (gas, of course). I turned in just after nine.

Just now

I took myself by bus up to the shopping precinct. I get a bit befuddled by the vastness of the shops, and very spooked by all the mirrors, piped music and lights. I went in one shop but left soon after arriving, as I found I couldn't think what I was doing. I took myself to the huge new supermarket (having finally found where the way in is) and got a couple of groceries. That was that.
There were mercifully few people around, and that made things a bit easier.

Now

Feeling very jangled. Can't settle down at all. Time for a bus ride, I think.

Yesterday

The library's computer system threw a wobbly yesterday morning, so I went for a trawl of the charity shops. I picked up a beautiful suit and two nice shirts for a fiver. Bingo!!

How am I?

The ribs still hurt, but not all the time. Coughing is still painful,  so is reaching up for something, and turning over in bed. Otherwise I don't really notice it.
I slept very badly on Tuesday. It wasn't only that my ribs hurt, but my mind worked overtime all night. Yesterday I woke up at six with the alarm, but fell asleep again for about an hour. I didn't want a repeat of that last night so I had a drop of wine. I don't much like Wednesdays in the first place, so wanted to make sure I slept. I slept through to five this morning & got up very tired. A bath followed by a fried breakfast did me a power of good.

Last night

I had regulation frozen hamburgers for dinner, and finished them. Afterwards I watched two Noel Coward plays; The Vortex and Hay Fever. I thought they were shite. They were all about superficial, pompous, pretentious snobs, and written in a ridiculously overblown, snooty English that I find so irritating. It matched my mood though, and gave me something to focus my annoyance on. I turned in at eleven.

Moods

I've been feeling really uptight since yesterday. That's what tends to happen when I think properly.

A musical interlude

I've just had a few nice hours harpsichording. We had a party of about fifty French students visiting, and they were taken round in three groups. I liked it that they were interested in the music. In fact they were really interested in everything. They seemed to enjoy themselves, and their teachers told us that they had. That was time well-spent, and very worthwhile for me.

The melodrama

I'm still very wary of last Monday's fit. It's been playing on my mind ever since I came round from it. I haven't heard anything from the neurologist yet, and I may not. I do trust him though. I had to go to the doctors this morning to collect my prescription, so I wrote a note to the doctor about it, in case he needs to know.
I keep reading that epilepsy often comes in connection with ASD. I think my preoccupation with last week's event is an autistic thing; that bit about the last time one experienced something, saw or spoke to someone, being the one that goes round and round in one's  head. It ain't half tiring.

Weather

We had quite a lot of weather yesterday. Heavy squally winds, brief cloudbursts, hail, blue skies, warm sunshine and persistent rain. We didn't get any snow or showers of frogs though.

Last night

I went to the shopping mall to have a look at the other pound shop. It's not as good as the first. Then I went back to the place I ate at last Saturday, to take advantage of a discount. That was a real treat.
When I got home I put the washing machine on, and watched a dramatisation of The Signal Man by Charles Dickens. It's one of the dreariest things I've ever seen, but couldn't be bothered to watch anything I needed to concentrate on. Afterwards I watched a different film version of Oscar Wilde's An Ideal Husband, before turning in at Ten.

Earlier on

After leaving the library, I set off for another trawl of the charity shops. On the way I met someone I know socially, and we had a nice cup of coffee and a fag or two outside a local cafe. We got a bit wet though when a squall blew over. In the second shop I went in, I met one of the people from the local museum, who I used to work with on Sundays as a volunteer. We had a good laugh rummaging through the merchandise. On the way back from the event I met someone who had come to hear me last Sunday, and we had a brief chat. I like this town!

Just now

I went to the event as arranged. There was nothing suitable, as expected. I put my name forward for a part-time cleaning job. I feel the employer didn't take me seriously. I can assure you the feeling was mutual. Then I went to see some self-employment 'advisors'. Cocky bastards. I certainly would not have employed them when I was customer services manager. Another waste of time for the 'one size fits all' system.

Change of plans

Yesterday afternoon I didn't go to the shopping mall in the end. I think I'd like to go this afternoon. I'm particularly impressed with the pound shops. Also I want to look at the huge new supermarket, now that I've worked out where the way in is.

Soon

I need to attend an event the workhouse have sent me to. Last time I went it was completely pointless. There was sod all that matched my skills. I mustn't allow myself to get miserable about it. Give 'em what they wants. That's what I says.

News from the balcony

I picked up a fuchsia from the supermarket yesterday for the grand sum of one pound. I'm delighted with it. The variety is Alice Hoffman, pictured above. When it gets a bit bigger, I'm going to get some cuttings started for my friends. My tiny balcony is practically full now, and I'm so glad to have it. I simply love growing things.

This morning

I got up at six, and finished the remainder of the housework. That was nice and easy as I'd done all the hard bits by yesterday, and there was very little to do. The landlord's inspection went well. He said he was happy with the flat. That's that until about eight months time. I'm glad it's over. I get really agitated and upset when I have to let strangers in. I stress about it for days beforehand.

Last night

I did some housework before settling down to The Third Man (1949), starring Orson Welles (at the end only). I'd forgotten what a bloody good film it is. I treated myself to supper of French bread and cheese. I particularly enjoyed it,  as I don't usually have anything so late. I finished off with another bit of housework before turning in at ten.
During the course of the evening, my close person contacted me to say she would't be coming today after all, but will come next week instead.

A musical interlude

The coming weekend is a bank-holiday one. The town will be very busy with groups of bikers. Bank-holiday weekends have always been beneficial to my musical activities, and I hope the coming weekend will prove to be no exception. I shan't be walking around though. It will be far too busy, and the bikes make a hell of a racket.

Repeating myself

I can't help but remember how much more conducive people are to my well-being, in the establishment I now play at. I often remember it. There were some lovely people where I used to play, but there were some right cunts too. Where I play now, people keep much more of a distance, and that suits me well. They are friendly to my face, at least, which is all I want out of it. There might be some cunts there too, but I don't want to know them well enough to find out. People come to hear me play the old songs and that's all there is to it. I am always pleased though, when people from the other joint come to hear me. It's only the nice ones who come, and I'm always happy to see them.

Thoughts

Earlier on I went and collected my keyboard. It was a bit of a haul but I managed.
I know I've got housework I need to do, but that can wait just a tick while I bus it up to the shopping mall. I need to do something to cheer meself up. When I get in I'll do some of what I need to. Then I'll get up early tomorrow and finish it off. Yawn. I could do without it.

Flora

Apart from my almost obsessive interest in wild plants, I've always enjoyed growing things. I have a tiny, narrow balcony that overlooks the street, and this has been turned into a garden. I have two troughs of pinks, which are about to flower profusely, and there's a small pot of dwarf narcissi. This week I potted up some orange lilies, and my friend brought me two dwarf lavender seedlings. I'm really looking forward to watching everything grow.

Fauna

I really do not like insects of any description. They give me the creeps. Close up they terrify me. They flutter, buzz, crawl and creep. Yugh. I quite like the blue butterflies I saw on a yarrow plant last Saturday, though. I don't mind them at all, as long as they keep their distance.

Now

My grotty day started off with a visit to the workhouse. Tomorrow the letting agents are coming to inspect my flat any time between 9am and 1pm. After that I'm going to a jobs fair, to see what's on offer. Too much is happening all at once, and it's unsettling me.
This evening I've got to make a decided start on the housework, ready for tomorrow. I did as much as I could physically manage last week, but it wasn't enough.
I want to snap out of this rotten mood that's starting to take hold.

High street fashions

I am rapidly acquiring a reputation for being debonair. This makes me smile, when I think that most of my 'work' clothes come from the charity shops on the high street and in the town centre! What looks to others like a million quid probably cost me no more than a fiver. This morning I bought a beautiful tie by a bespoke maker for the exorbitant sum of fifty pence! This morning I finally got round to having a haircut. I won't half look smart the next time I play!

Life and death

I'm still really preoccupied about the fits. The certainty of having another one at some point is a great worry to me. The worst thing is that one can never tell when it will happen. I do hope I'm on my own when it happens. I don't like the idea of being completely helpless in front of people. Also distress it causes to those who see it really upsets me.

A social whirl

My friend's visit was lovely. After I finished playing on Saturday we did a couple of touristy bits before going out for dinner. After we'd eaten we bussed home the long way round, so as to see a bit of the coast.
Tomorrow one of my very closest people is coming to stay with me for a few days. This time I fear it won't be such a happy visit, but it will be really lovely to be able to spend some time with her.

The weekend

It was busy. Luckily some volunteers from the old building helped me with my keyboard, so I played both days. It's a shame there weren't more visitors, but I suppose the beautiful weather had drawn people to the beach instead.
The pub started off disappointingly quietly, but picked up later on. In a way that was good, but what it meant was I didn't finish until gone eleven. That was gruelling.
Playing was harder that usual, as my ribs hurt a lot. I tried to disguise the pain as much as possible, and hope nobody noticed. I don't suppose carrying my keyboard to the pub helped. I paid for that during the night. I'll need to collect the bugger a bit later on.

Now

My mood is still a bit prickly. I don't know yet what I'm going to be doing at the weekend. My  friend is coming down to visit tomorrow, so I must try and get on with the housework I wasn't able to do. I wish she were coming next week instead of this. Life is up in the air at the moment.

The local fauna

I set four mousetraps last night, but I wasn't really sure what to bait them with. I set them as follows: one with brown bread, two with brown bread and peanut butter, and one with fruit scone. They either weren't interested or dined out yesterday, as the traps were completely undisturbed when I checked this morning. I'll leave them down for a bit and see what happens.

'Er upstairs

I bumped into my neighbour this morning, and she asked me if I knew anything about all the noise from upstairs. I told her what I'd been going through. I felt quite relieved that it wasn't just me that had heard it. Apparently people along the corridor had also been bothered by it.
On that subject, the Swing Low, Sweet Chariot stuff started at twenty past eight this morning, but luckily their window was closed. It was still loud enough to bother me though. The image came to mind of a person puking up with a smile on their face. That's what the 'music' sounds like.

How am I?

The head feels better than yesterday, but the ribs still hurt, although not quite so excruciatingly as yesterday. My ribs have started cracking, which I suppose is a sign that they're beginning to settle down.
I've been trying to organise some help with moving the keyboard over the weekend, but no definite reply yet.

Weather

It started raining before lunchtime, and it rained and rained. It carried on raining until just before nightfall. It was a coldish night, and still isn't very warm yet. Yesterdays cold wind is now a mild breeze. At least there's a bit of sunshine now, which is so much nicer.

Last night

I cooked and had a late dinner. I almost enjoyed it. Then I watched Liberty, a really clever Laurel& Hardy silent short, and a TV production of Oscar Wilde's Lady Windermere's Fan. That wasn't a bad night. I turned in around ten.
I slept reasonably well, apart from turning round a few times during the night, and got up at five this morning.

Just now

I treated myself to a fag, outside in the rain. I started thinking about my new cousins. I feel we are starting to become friends, which is what I had hoped for. I thought too, that if it weren't for computers we'd never have met at all. Even if we'd been introduced in person, I could never have struck up any meaningful sort of conversation with them. I fucking hate computers. They are so all-pervasive and intrusive. People become completely hooked on the things, and some people seem completely incapable of surviving without them. But they have given me something wonderfully useful; a means of finally being able to express myself in words that say what I really mean. I just can't do that properly when I'm speaking.

Now

Today is really dragging. It's raining and the sky is horrid and gloomy. The daylight is nauseating. My mind is caught up in a cycle of preoccupation, self-doubt and worry. I think I'm heading for another depression. Bastard.

Wildlife on One

I don't know whether I've still got mice at home. I don't see them anymore, nor do I hear them. I haven't found any 'evidence' of them either. When I think logically about it, I can't see them moving out when they've taken the trouble to move in. I've done something drastic and bought some mouse-traps. I really didn't want to do that, but I need to do something, as I'm not allowed to have pets in the flat.

Social media

Facebook friends. Friends!!! Don't make me laugh. There are people who say they are my friends, but I don't understand what this means. People I never hear from, and it frankly doesn't bother me now whether I do or not. These are people who don't have the slightest interest in what I do, and make no effort to see me, even when I have been the one to make contact. They offer me no support in my musical activities. This is not my idea of friendship. It's just people collecting hundreds of names, in the same way I do with the family tree. I don't know what the protocol is, but I am inclined to clear out a lot of disinterested parties. I really don't want to know about people I'm told are 'nice' any more.

A musical interlude

I'm due to play Saturday and Sunday afternoons, and Sunday night. I'm of two minds. I feel compelled to play as normal. I can't afford not to. But I'm hesitant in my mind, and don't feel at all confident. Also if I still hurt so much there's no way I'll be able to carry my keyboard around town. I'll have to think about it.

News

The news isn't just about what is reported. It has just as much to do with what one isn't told. Take capital punishment, for example. A few weeks ago, a certain country was going to take decisive action against another country, which had executed two of its citizens. Does this mean that the decisive action has been taken since, but not reported on? Or does it in fact mean that no action of any sort has been taken?
A month or so ago the headlines were full of reports of people around the world being executed. Lately there are none. Does this mean that no executions have been carried out recently, or does it mean that they are taking place, but we are not being told about them?
I suspect that, on balance, the latter of both scenarios is the case. It is very sad that the 'civilised' world is prepared to turn a blind eye to these barbaric events. It is very difficult to speak out about this subject, when one is given absolutely no information.

How am I?

My brain is feeling a good bit better, and I should be myself again in a day or two. The ribs are terribly painful. Things like going to bed, getting up in the morning and turning round during the night are a real effort. I'm getting a bit congested, I suppose from coughing being so painful. The ribs are definitely the worst thing at the moment. I'm coming out in a nice bruise on my thigh, so I think I must have hit that too when I went down.
On Monday I'd intended to do the lessons as normal, before going to see my friend from uni. I'd been especially looking forward to the latter. Until now mobility was a problem for me, and now my friend has got a very heavy workload, so isn't free very often. I feel very disappointed about not being able to go.
On Monday morning I hadn't been to the shops yet to put some credit on my phone. I needed to let people know I wouldn't be around, so went up to the library to use the computers. I felt ill while I was there, and the staff were very good to me. I don't know how I made it there or back. I did thank the staff when I was there yesterday afternoon.
From now on, what I will be very careful of is light. Sharp contrasts in light and flashing, or rapidly moving images have always made me feel a bit odd, and I always look away. The light seemed odd when I got up first thing on Monday. I didn't feel like I was quite here.

First thing this morning

While I was coming round with my coffee and fags, my mind was darting from one thought to another. I kept on looking outside, as a change from looking at my own living-room. In the yard opposite I noticed a couple of starlings behaving very oddly. There was one at each end of a very long piece of string, and both were tugging away at it with their beaks. I suppose they wanted it to build a nest. I soon got bored so didn't see the outcome.
It promised to be bright and sunny when I woke up, but I watched it get progressively cloudier as the hours rolled on. I expect we'll have some rain later.

Last night

I wasn't my best. I still had no appetite so slopped up some hamburgers for dinner, after which I watched An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde. I turned in about nine. I slept very badly and got up about five this morning.

Just now

The library's computers crashed, and there was no saying when the problem would be fixed, so I used my buss pass again. This time I went to the out-of-town shopping precinct to buy the clothes-horse I need. Got a couple of groceries too, and found it very tiring. Back at the library now, and the wretched machines are working again.

A musical interlude

I didn't end up playing today. My ribs are still hurting, so there's no way I could carry the keyboard to the old building. Luckily I bumped into the man who runs it first thing this morning, so I didn't have to go there later to tell him.
Also my mind isn't really on it today. I've been very preoccupied with my latest fit. I suppose I'd been a bit complaisant, believing that the tablets would stop me ever having another one. I felt very low last night, and still feel quite wary. My confidence has taken as much of a bashing as my ribs have. I'm scared of conking out when I'm playing. What a terrible thought.

This morning

I felt really dreadful for the first couple of hours, but picked up afterwards. The cretins upstairs started screaming, shouting, running round and stamping just after seven, and it went on and on. Just after eight the loud music started; spirituals of the tackiest, most deplorable kind, all at full blast with the window open. Swing Low, Sweet Chariot is enough to depress anyone, but the things that followed were even worse. I couldn't stand it any more so I went and walked around for forty minutes, before heading off to the workhouse. I'm still not right after Monday's fit, and certainly in no frame of mind to be interviewed. The man was very kind and re-arranged my appointment.
Then I went to pay my rent, before going up to the hospital to speak to the Neurology secretary. I'm waiting to hear from them now. I must say it seemed such a treat to go there by bus, instead of walking.

Yesterday

I didn't go to the library in the end, but popped into the supermarket instead. I picked up one thing after another and just couldn't make up my mind, so I had a cheese roll when I got home. Later on I still had no appetite, so I rescued a couple of bits from the freezer, and bolted them down.
I spent the evening on the sofa, diving in and out of a book but rapidly losing interest each time. I turned in at ten and slept through to five this morning.

A musical interlude

It's back to normal this week, with three harpsichording stints and one pub night. I'll need to move the keyboard tomorrow, but if my ribs are still this painful I shan't be able to do it. Unless someone where I'm playing can help me, that is. I could do with a day away from it, but the thought of letting people down really bothers me.

People

Some people are very shallow. Those same people are better off than they realise, and not so hard-done-by as they think. They simply don't appreciate how well-off they are. Why do I say this? More Facebook postings of the most trite sort, where people complain about the most unimportant and inconsequential things, as if those things were life-threateningly serious. I could bash their heads together. It really makes me want to spit.

All in a name?

You will probably understand that I am a little preoccupied with yesterday's event. I'm sitting here feeling my energy starting to trickle back, and have done a bit of digging around online. Apparently epileptic fits are caused by electrical activity in the brain, and non-epileptic ones are caused by such things as heart disease, blood sugar or drugs. My fits were detected in a brainwave scan. It seems that what I have is, in fact, epilepsy. It doesn't make the slightest difference to anything, but now at least I know what its name is.

Food

This morning I had a hamburger, to make up for what I didn't eat yesterday. I will need to try and eat later, but the trouble is I have no appetite. I just don't fancy anything, and what I had this morning had a very indifferent effect on me. This is really boring. I used to enjoy my food, but nowadays it just doesn't bother me. Eating is just something that needs to be done.

News

I am very disturbed by a news article about the death of an eleven-year-old. He was apparently a racing-car driver, and died as a result of injuries sustained in a crash while racing.
Just a minute. An eleven-year-old. What the hell was he doing driving at all, at that age? Why did his parents allow it? I hope they didn't encourage him to do it. He's dead now. I really can't get my head round this.

This afternoon

I think another spell of family history is on the cards. I will have to thank the library staff for helping me yesterday, and for being so kind. Afterwards I'll be on the lookout for a new clothes-horse. After all I'll still need to be able to do my laundry.
This week I will get back to the housework. A friend is travelling a long way to see me this weekend, and I want her to enjoy her stay.

Afterthought, and hindsight

Yesterday's episode came like a bolt from the blue. I suppose I'd become complaisant after starting on the tablets, but there does seem to be some sort of pattern. My fits have always come in times of mental/emotional turmoil. I certainly haven't been upset about anything recently, but I am prone to worrying about each and every thing. I have just come through a lengthy period of depression, and lately I have been feeling quite run-down. My seizures are not epileptic, and I wonder if the things I describe are triggering the attacks? It's something I shall have to take note of.

Yesterday

I got up suddenly at around 6am feeling very odd, to go for the five yard sprint. While I was there I knew what was happening and tried to make it back to bed. Needless to say I managed two steps before collapsing. I came round on the floor and rolled off the clothes-horse I'd broken beyond repair. My ribs are very painful, but the clothes-horse broke my fall and prevented me from bashing my head.
Yesterday is a bit of a blur. The daylight made me feel ill, so I spent the day on the sofa with my eyes closed. I managed to nod off a few times, which I suppose must have done me some good. It was hard to settle down though. My brain was working overtime. It was a rapid succession of disconnected thoughts. I felt absolutely dreadful, as if my brain had short-circuited.  The after-effects made yesterday's fit one of the worst I can remember. I couldn't face eating, but sipped water all day.
I moved from the sofa to the bed at around nine in the evening, and slept reasonably well, apart from two trips to the loo during the night. I got up this morning feeling infinitely better than I did yesterday. I think I should be myself again when I wake up tomorrow.
I have read all sorts of stuff saying that seizures can be in connection with autism. However I've yet to meet another sufferer who is autistic.

Sunday

I woke up still tired from the previous day, but gave a good account of myself to some very appreciative visitors.
I went to play at the pub in the evening, and it was disappointingly quiet. So was the old town. It was deserted. I suppose everyone was broke after the previous bank-holiday weekend.
The people whose mother's eightieth birthday I played for came in, which was a nice surprise. I went outside for a natter and a fag with the barman. While we were there, two very lost people rolled up and asked if either of us spoke French. Well yours truly owned up, and they came into the pub. It was funny, in a strange sort of way. One woman showed them how to play the spoons, so they spent some time doing that before sampling pickled onions and eggs, and proceeding to the steak and kidney pudding. It was a fun night.

Saturday

It was a long day; I left home at half past nine in the morning, and didn't get back until nearly nine at night. It was worth it though, because the VE Day party was a great success. There was a good mixture of people of all ages, all joining in the singing and dancing. I played for about ninety minutes, then there were some French songs. I played for an hour afterwards to finish the afternoon.
One lady came over and gave me a bottle of drink and some chocolates for being the best-dressed man. I had to smile to myself, as everything I wore (except for socks and undies) had been bought in charity shops. The suit was three quid, the shoes cost the same, the suit and tie were a quid each. I'd become the height of chic for the princely sum of eight pounds! That was such a good afternoon.

The weekend

Saturday's event was a resounding success. The harpsichording went well yesterday lunchtime. The pub was quiet, but a few people came in and stayed. This morning I had a fit. I'm exhausted, and my ribs hurt from going down on top of a metal clothes horse. I'm going back to bed.

Soon

Her we go! I'm off to the station now. I've got a two-hour journey ahead of me now, to the event I'm about to play at. I'm quite looking forward to the trip too! I don't often go on trains nowadays. In my last job I hated the things. They made my life hell with their unreliability.

Last night

After dinner I watched Cast a Dark Shadow (1955), a chilling film about a bloke who marries rich women for their money, and bumps 'em orf to get it. It sorted me out. I was in the right frame of mind for a good murder. Turned in at half past nine and slept like a log until five.

Now

I'm still pretty livid about the general election. In my area a third of the electorate didn't bother to vote, and that's apparently a good turnout. My, some people set their standards very low. The voting system is grossly unfair, and we end up with governments that do not reflect how people voted. I voted this time only to do my bit to keep extremists out of politics. I don't think I'll ever bother again. At least not until we have proportional representation.

Politics

The keep seeing the most ridiculous comments online. Most of it seems to be silly personal slights on individuals. I find it all very childish. Surely there is more than enough ammunition to be obtained from their policies. In short, keep to the facts. The hysterical stuff is just a distraction.

Today

I'm going to need to take things easy. I think too that I'm probably run down, so I've got some vitamin tablets. I haven't been right since I had the flu a while back. I don't want to turn up at the event tomorrow, looking like and festering up like a compost heap. I want to give a good account of myself.

Last night

I made another curry which, needless to say, I didn't enjoy. I ate most of it though. Afterwards I watched St Martin's Lane (1938) with Charles Laughton and Vivienne Leigh. I'd watched it several times, but yesterday I finally got the hang of it. I turned in, exhausted, at nine.
I had a bad night. I was wide awake twice; the second time was for over an hour around 2am. My mind worked overtime all night, and I seemed to spend most of the time turning round. I got up at five, feeling dreadful. After coffee I went back to bed for an hour or so. I don't feel quite so rough now.

Hope springs eternal...

Autism has been an election issue this time round, with all the main political parties including it in their manifestos. How very jingoistic.

The politicians have just found another label to parade, that is all. I don't expect any improvement in the levels of service we receive (or in my case don't receive). Mental health is the poor relation of physical health, and I don't expect that to change, especially as a potential 15 million pounds will be going into a Margaret Thatcher museum. It's nice to see they've got their priorities right, I don't mean.

Late tonight

I'm full of apathy and boredom, but completely free of the televised election coverage. I shall have no way of listening to the meaningless arguments. I will be spared the spectacle of the politicos game of sticks and stones. I shan't hear the Government's smug satisfaction with itself. I shan't see all the wannabes with the word 'power' written all over their faces. I shall happily miss all the political analysis after the results are in. The very thought of it all is doing my head in.
One expression comes to mind: Self-praise is no praise. 

Sickened

I've just seen a news report about a religious cleric who was debating freedom of speech with someone. During the debate he said that she should be put to death, along with apostates and homosexuals. Surely such beliefs are completely unacceptable in our society. Freedom of speech is one thing. Preaching hate is another.

Social media

I sometimes wonder if the whole world has gone completely barmy, or whether I have. Today I keep seeing Facebook postings that people have voted. So bloody what. Does the whole world and its auntie really need to know that? If so, why?

A musical interlude

It's an interesting time for me. My usual routine for the coming Saturday has been changed, because I'm playing on the other side of the county. I don't mind one bit, as I've been given time to adjust. I'm quite looking forward to it now.
Last Sunday something unusual happened while I was harpsichording. A party of German tourists came in and asked me about the music I was playing, saying that they didn't speak much English. I was more than able to tell them about it in German. Then I played some Handel, as requested. What I didn't realise at the time was that they had commented to the person who runs the building, on both my German and my Music. I found that out on Wednesday. That was really kind of them, but I have no illusions. I know exactly the state of both my playing and my German. Neither is as bad as I say it is, or as good as I would like it to be.

Satire

There is a wonderful film called I'm Alright Jack (1959) which parodies the workings of national politics. It's very funny, very intelligent, and there's a great deal of truth in it. They're all playing the same game. You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours.

Weather

We had fantastic weather throughout the six months of 2013 that I lived here. We had fantastic weather throughout 2014 too. This year, however, has been quite a washout. We've had good weather some days, and sometimes for a couple of days, but it's been wetter, colder and much more changeable than previously. I don't particularly mind what sort of weather we get, but I just don't like 'changeable'. I need to know where I am.

This morning

I was up well before six. That was just as well, because it took me a while to do anything. As I pondered my toast I started thinking about today's elections. The blackshirts seem to have a lot of clout in my area, and I don't want anything run by a bunch of thugs. So I determined to vote for the first time in decades.
I thought it through. Tories? Certainly not. That's anathema to me. Labour? Nope, not since the administration of the 1990s. Liberal? No. They sold out their voters by getting the current lot into office. So I voted for the Green Party, because they seem the least objectionable of the bunch. I shan't be biting my nails on the edge of my seat though. There's no way I can avoid finding out the result in the morning, so I don't need to know any sooner. Besides, it isn't even remotely interesting or exciting.

Last night

I was unable to resist the urge, and watched most of a very good dramatisation of David Copperfield. I couldn't be bothered to cook, so had a couple of hamburgers. The neck and back were still very sore, which was quite distracting. What was also distracting was the din coming from upstairs, but it mercifully didn't go on for very long.
I had another bad night, frequently waking up deep in thought, so I feel very tired this morning.

Tonight

I think I've probably overdosed on TH adaptations of Dickens, as much as I enjoy them. I think I'll resurrect some films from the time when the British actually made good films. The aching is really getting on my nerves. I hope I'll be able to settle down and concentrate. With a bit of luck I won't hear too much from 'er upstairs. She hasn't been too bad for the last couple of days. I hope I haven't spoken too soon.

The Nobel Prize for Literature

Well not quite! I sent something I wrote about myself to a local Autism charity that I like. I attend their social groups whenever I'm able. They have replied to say that they will publish it on their page at the weekend, as a discussion point. I'm chuffed!

National politics

The general election is really getting on my nerves. It's such a bore. Are people really so gullible as to believe what any of the politicians say? Once upon a time some of our politicians had integrity and a modicum of decency and humanity. The one shining example that comes to mind is Tony Benn. Nowadays we have absolutely no-one of that calibre. They're a complete and utter shower.

A musical interlude

The weather's horrible today. It's cold and very windy, and the clouds are dark and menacing. Consequently we only had three visitors today. I left the place 22p better off!

Last night

I was my usual boring self. After a thoroughly unappetising dinner I watched all nine half-hour episodes of The Old Curiosity Shop. I went to bed at eleven and had a particularly awful night. I seemed to spend most of it waking up and going to sleep again. I watched it get light this morning, but had a nap afterwards. The joints are still aching.

Now

I've just been outside and it's nasty out there. Things are banging and crashing, and being blown around by the wind. There's a strange quality to the sounds that I don't know how to describe. All I can say is that everything sounds a bit different.
While I think about it, don't people post some absolute rubbish on facebook. Today we learn that someone has a splinter in their finger. That news is just about as earth-shattering as the most recent royal pregnancy. Well, I suppose at least it makes a change from the 'I'm in a filthy bad mood' sort of post. Some people must have such easy lives, if small things like splinters or bad moods are such a major problem.

The weather

It's been beautifully bright and sunny all day, and there is a little bit of warmth. The only fault with it, is the vicious gale that has been gradually picking up during the day. I shan't be going down to the sea today. Also it'll be a quite night in, I daresay with another Charles Dickens film.

Dismayed, of Nuneaton

I've just seen an advert for something called Autistic Pride. Autistic Pride? What the fuck is that? Being autistic is not an achievement. It is not something that someone has had to strive to obtain. It is simply a way of being human, and something the autistic person has absolutely no control over, and no say in. It is not a matter for pride. By the same token, neither is it a matter for shame.
My problem with this event is, what is the point of flaunting something and trying to be different from everyone else? My idea of equality is that people are included and accepted. Why make a ghetto for yourself?

When I was younger, 'gay' people were oppressed. Not only were the laws of the land grossly unjust, but the press pandered to the vilest instincts of the unwashed masses. In those days I was very vocal about my sexuality. In those days people had to be. Our present-day lot is much better. People have equality under the law, and there is a much greater level of inclusion and acceptance than in former times. That's why I don't understand the point of Gay Pride in this day and age. I have exactly the same objections as to the above event.

Life

I'm finding life much easier lately. I stay at home most evenings, but that's what I'm really most used to. When I'm about town I often see people I know, and that I'm happy to spend a minute or two talking to, or just say 'hello' to in passing.
When I do go out, which is on Sunday nights when I play, I feel really comfortable in that environment. I like the bar staff, and they like me. I like the customers too, because they keep a respectable distance. They are very friendly towards me though, and understand if I don't feel like talking. To be honest I'm generally too tired after I've finished playing. and small-talk is a complete no-no to me anyway. Nobody makes me feel ill with their intense, in-your-face, incessant blathering. Nobody drags me into unwanted conversations that I'm doing my level best to avoid. It's nice and easy. I go in, do me stuff and have a pint. I might stay for another one after I've finished, if I fancy, or just go home if I don't. No pressure. It's great.

A musical interlude

I'm going to be busy this week. On Saturday I'm playing at an event on the other side of the county. Because of that I'm harpsichording tomorrow and on Sunday. Then, of course, it's Neezup Muvva Brahn at the pub on Sunday night. I enjoy being this sort of busy. I like playing now, instead of being terrified of it. At last.

National events

We have the general election in two days time. I'm completely underwhelmed by the idea. Why do some people get so caught up in a sort of hysterial obsession with the outcome? Some pubs have apparently installed big screens, so that interested tipplers can watch the results live. I'm not one of them. I daresay I won't be able to help finding out what happened when I wake up on Friday. On Thursday I'm going to bed at my normal time. The whole thing is a crashing bore.

Earlier on

I started my day with a walk up to the council offices to pay a bill. They have a payment machine there, so I'm usually in and out within a couple of minutes. This morning that was not to be. A fat woman dressed in black was faffing around at the machine. And then she faffed and faffed for what seemed ages. I can't think for the life of me what possessed her to wear black. It made her look like a solar eclipse.
The second person in the queue was an even more grotesquely obese gentleman. He has a t-shirt and shorts on, and was covered in tattoos. Very vomit-making. He duly plodded over to the machine and proceeded to faff around for a good while before waddling off.
I've spent my whole life trying to understand the population at large, and trying to work out how to fit in with it. I can't get my head round why these people seem to have gone out of their way to make themselves look so outlandish.
I needed a bit of retail therapy to get over it, so went in the charity shop and bought another two-quid suit.

Sleep

I had a crappy night. I flew out of bed at I don't know what time, but it was pitch black outside. The rain had stopped by then. My sleep was very unsettled. I had strange dreams all night and kept turning over, aching every time I did so.
I remember one peculiar dream. I was in London. In the dream I was in Notting Hill, but the place looked like Queen's Park. It was nowhere that I recognise in real life, but I was walking down the road houses that belonged to my grandparents and great-grandparent. What a load of crap. Then there was the familiar bit of going round the corner to near a flyover, waiting for a bus, and then waking up. That part of the dream really gets on my nerves. There's something menacing about it, but I can never remember what it is.

How am I?

Yesterday I was mentally and physically worn out. All my joints have ached since yesterday lunchtime. The right little finger has a slightly puffed-up joint, so I'll need to watch that. It took me some time to pull myself together this morning, but I took my time with toast and some delicious home-made marmalade. Of course I had coffee and fags for starters. Hey ho.

Last night

I didn't go out in the end. I was much too tired. I'm glad I didn't, because it drizzled continuously into the night, before turning to heavy rain. I watched a tv adaptation of Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens, and thoroughly enjoyed all six, hour-long episodes. I turned in just after midnight.

Current affairs

I had hoped that in the light of some recent executions,there would be some determined action by the international community. This is another hope dashed.  It seems that once again, the vested interests of the capitalist community have won. Come on. It is high time that judicial murder were consigned to the dustbin of history. It has no place in what purports to be a civilised world. It is barbaric. Please, world, please stop it.

Tonight

I think it'll be another Charles Dickens night, but I don't know yet what I'm going to watch. I'm starting to do the things I enjoy, and that is a sure sign that the black cloud has blown away. I know it's wickedly extravagant but, tired as I am, I might pop dahn the rub-a-dub for a cheeky half. I won't go in if there's music though. I've heard so much music this weekend, and don't think my nerves could stand any more.

All in the mind

I have finally got through the last, prolonged period of depression. As usual I neglected my housework when I felt low. I just couldn't get my head round doing it. During the last week I've staretd doing it, bit by bit, and am starting to like the results. That's how I know I'm really feeling better.

Now

I'm completely exhausted. The punishing schedule of playing over the weekend has caught up with me. I'm both mentally and physically worn out, but I'm not grumbling at all. I've had a thoroughly enjoyable weekend.

Another musical interlude

I've just had another spectacularly enjoyable three day's harpsichording. There were lots of visitors, and a good number of those said they enjoyed my playing. It was nice to see people sitting around and listening. This afternoon a party of German holidaymakers came in and asked me if I could play any Handel. I duly obliged with a chunk of the 'great' G Minor Suite, that I had played previously in my diploma recital.
The pub was very good too. When I arrived it was full of people who had been listening to the band. These started drifting out shortly after I started. I took a deep breath and carried on. I'm glad I did. The window behind me was open, and people started wandering in. They stayed. Also a group of people in the pub over the road heard me. They came in too, and they also stayed. The pub got busier and busier. It's looking good! I took my keyboard back at ten, directly after I'd finished playing. Then I went back to the pub to enjoy a pint.

Priorities

I've just been checking the news headlines. It's full of stuff about the latest royal pregnancy, which has just culminated in a birth. Well fancy that! A pregnancy leading to a birth! Whatever next.
This really is rubbish. There are much more important stories in the world. A few days ago the news was dominated by Indonesia. Now it's all gone quiet. Is this the firm action that certain countries said they would take? I knew in my mind that nothing would happen. Think of the loss of trade. Very sad.

Just now

Yet another new cousin has just made contact with me, this time the daughter of my second cousin once removed. I suppose that makes us third cousins. Well never mind. They're much nicer to me than the family I knew, removed or not.

A musical interlude

I had quite an intensive harpsichord session just now, and played more-or-less continuously for three and a half hours. That's left me feeling quite tired but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Some of the visitors said they did too. I don't bother playing easy pieces anymore, and learn about three new pieces every couple of weeks. It's nice to have a number of pieces in rotation.

Last night

I had no appetite and couldn't be bothered to cook, so I heated up some of Thursday's leftovers. Afterwards I started watching a TV adaptation of Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens. I've watched it many times, but never understood it. Until yesterday, that is. I'm finally starting to get it.
I turned in at eleven and slept very badly again. I was wide awake at least twice during the night, and remember turning over lots of times. The brain is worn out this morning.

Memory lane

The headline that the Prime Minister wants to give fifteen million quid of our money to a proposed Margaret Thatcher museum, has been playing on my mind.
As for now, I am very aware of how the Health Service has been underfunded for years. I am in the middle of a lengthy wait for diagnosis, where the contract tender was bungled, on top of the issue of underfunding. Where are the Government's priorities?
Now to other matters. I have spent my entire life dealing with issues I now know to be autism. I left home at seventeen, both glad and relieved to have escaped at last. I was, however, completely unprepared for the world. I was confused by it and afraid of it. I was afraid of people, and didn't understand them. I'd been to hell and back as a teenager, because of my sexuality. I have always found it difficult to express how I feel. At that time it was totally impossible. I suppose I didn't really know how I felt, and believed it didn't really matter anyway.
I did try going out  to clubs. I hated the loudness and all the people, and would usually slope off into a corner and not speak to anyone. The music used to make me feel ill, but I wanted to try and fit in.
At about this time we had a change of government. It's leader started off by quoting St Francis of Assissi's prayer on the telly. Then she embarked on a 'divide and rule' strategy, bit by bit. First of all it was the unions. Yes they had become too powerful, but that was their reaction over the years, to the barbaric working conditions that people had once had to endure. Then she started shutting down those parts of the country that hadn't voted for her. Then we had the Poll Tax, one of the unfairest systems of taxation ever inflicted on the population.
In general, she then brought in 'Care in the Community', where mental institutions were shut down. The inmates were released unsupervised, and then the murders started.
She wanted to re-introduce the Death Penalty, but was mercifully defeated by a few votes. A few votes is a sad reflection on our system.
She opposed the equalisation of the age of consent, and enacted the repressive 'clause 28'. She marginalised and vilified AIDS patients. Press coverage was shameful. The age of consent was sorted out by the next administration. It is not them we have to thank, though, but the EEC. It was part of their equality package, and it would have been enforced at some point if it wasn't already in law. Later on we had 'Back to Basics', where Victorian moral values were promoted. Shortly afterwards a number of her politicians were caught with their knickers round their ankles. Glass houses? Stones?
She fostered the attitude that if people were poor, then it was their own fault. It was because they were morally deficient. She marginalised the poor. Some people remember her for her monetary policies. I cannot comment on this, as I don't have a head for finance. I don't remember being any better off during her tenure, though.
I remember the upbeat, jingoistic media coverage at the time, pandering to the lowest common denominator. Certain newspapers whipped the mob up into a frenzy. It was horrible.
Those were very dark times for me, and I thought they would never end. This is the person whose museum is to benefit from taxpayers' money. May those responsible be forgiven.

Now

I'm in the library, getting more family history. I'm completely predictable. So is the family history stuff. Just routine. I don't find anyone exciting, like other people seem to. No royalty, famous statesmen, no scientists, not even a famous composer or two. I wonder if other people make theirs up?

After the telly

I only woke up once during the night. When I got up with the alarm at seven, I felt like I'd been thinking all night. My bedding was a complete mess, but I don't remember anything about it.
This morning's coffee and fags were accompanied by lots of intense and varied thoughts, all following on from each other in quick succession.

Last night

The Indian meal was a success, although I didn't fancy it at all by the time it was cooked. I ate most of the idiappam, but just picked at the rest.
Afterwards I watched Pimpernel Smith (1941), a marvellous film based on the novel The Scarlet Pimpernel. It's about a professor of archaeology and a group of his students, who go to Nazi Germany and smuggle out eminent people who had been apprehended by the Nazis. It's such a clever and entertaining film, and not at all corny. Afterwards I watched part of a genealogy documentary, but soon got bored and went to bed around eleven.
During the documentary I got a text from my friend from uni, so I might be going there on Monday.

This morning

I'm getting old now. After collecting my prescription from the surgery, I made my way to the library. I was greeted with 'Hello Guv'nor. Bloody cold this morning ain't it?' One of these days I'm really going to lose it and slap the miserable effer. People like that don't help my depression one bit. Grrrr.