More biodiversity

Yesterday I made my way home from a thoroughly enjoyable few days, when I either saw or spoke with some of the people who matter most to me. The journey was astonishingly smooth; the longest I had to wait for either trains or buses was only four minutes.
The lower reaches of the Thames are lined with marshes of the most appalling dreariness. Everything looks so grimy and sad. Even the vegetation, covered in the black, poisonous accretions of the centuries, looks as though it is surviving out of sheer spite. There is something deeply disturbing, deeply menacing about the place, particularly when seen through a heavy fall of sleet. There were no birds to be seen, apart from the odd crow here and there, fluttering ominously in the distance. Even the villages look dingy and forlorn, and from the train they look quite deserted. I was glad to leave the place.
The glaziers were supposed to be coming to repair my broken front-door window this afternoon, but the cunts rang yesterday to cancel for a second time. I'm afraid I did make the secretary's ears burn a bit, but so what. It's shocking bad service.
It rained quite heavily during the afternoon, and I noticed a couple of leaks in the kitchen ceiling. I'll need to let the landlord know. Also in the kitchen the posh lighting has packed up, so I'll have to tell him that too. My washing machine will be plumbed in next week, which will make life much easier. I don't like walking around in dirty clothes. Once that's done I'll contact the landlord. I don't want him to see the kitchen as it is.
This morning I ordered myself a few of the old films I like, to cheer me up.

My Christmas message

This year I am doing something for Christmas without actually celebrating it. You see, my nephew invited me up for a few days, so I took him up on the offer. I arrived yesterday lunchtime after a few hours on trains (made almost intolerable by the continuous babbling and undiluted shite that I had to listen to). We made a quick visit to the Indian shops, to buy some bits and pieces that aren't to be found where I live. Since then we've been doing some catching up, and have had some really good talks. I am delighted that, after a very Catholic upbringing, he has finally seen through it all, and has come some way towards my own atheism. Christmas is a load of hypocrisy for many different reasons. I really loathe it. I wish that people cared as much how vulnerable people are treated, as they do about what Christmas presents they are going to receive.

Biodiversity

My latest obsession is starting to reap results. When I first moved into the house, not a single bird stayed in the garden. There was absolutely nothing there for them. Over the past fortnight, a wide variety of food both in the feeders and on the ground has attracted the following diners: sparrows, starlings, wrens, robins, blue tits, coal tits, greenfinches, chaffinches, blackbirds, collared doves, wood pigeons, ravens, jackdaws, magpies, and these small, brown birds that look like sparrows, only darker and smaller. I am also visited by those horrible green parakeets, but I see them off with the broom that I keep by the back door. A horrible fluffy cat has also taken interest, but one day it is going to get a good hiding with the broom, when I manage to catch up with it. Cunt.

Now

The washing machine was plumbed in yesterday and worked beautifully. That was until it discharged the waste water all over my kitchen floor. There were two holes in the waste pipe, which is integrated into the machine. So the plumber rang the supplier for me, and they are going to deliver me a new one on Thursday. Afterwards the poor man had to un-plumb the thing. All the banging and grinding has loosened one of the joints in the mains pipe, so there is currently a very minor leak. He will come back today with a smaller spanner to fix it. Yesterday I was looking forward to having a working washing machine and a working dishwasher. Today I still have neither.
I didn't get to eat until half past nine last night, and went to bed well after midnight. Today my stress levels have gone through the roof, and I feel completely worn out by it all. All this sudden stuff is very hard to cope with.

Settling down

The dining room is still crowded with the two wardrobes that don't belong there, but are too big to go up the narrow staircase. Never mind though. The house feels like home, instead of just somewhere I live.
The washing machine and dishwasher arrived on Saturday, and they are going to be plumbed in this evening. Although I am excited about it, I always find such things very stressful and unsettling. I will be so glad when it is all over.
I've done something new in my study: I've covered one small wall with pictures of my ancestors and late close relations. It's about time I tried to look at some of the photos without feeling sick. Although they can't hear me, of course, I take great delight in calling one or two of them cunts to their faces. I suppose it is for the better that I wasn't able to do so while they were still alive. Well, better for them.

Logistics

I am currently doing my bit to keep the British haulage industry afloat. Early this morning the first of my appliances was delivered. Then I received the other items an hour later. I am really pleased to have joined the ranks of civilised man!
While I was out yesterday, a delivery driver left a package with a neighbour over the road. They were out all day, so I have yet to find out what it is. Also while I was out, a second delivery driver left an item for me with a different neighbour over the road. They were out until the evening, but brought it over to me when they got home. Guess what it was? A very posh feeding station for wild birds! Fantastic! I will try and put it up over the weekend. I'm still going to keep the feeders that hang from the apple tree. Now what shall I do with the feeding station? Well I've had two ideas. Firstly I can use it to fatten my tits (as the trollop said to the vicar). Or I can fill it with food for the starlings, and plug it into the mains. Starlings are very aggressive and greedy, and attack the smaller birds. They're a bit of a cunt really.
I have recently found out that the birds I feed are also being fed two gardens away. No wonder some of them look so fat. The next time they look forlorn and do the 'endangered species' bit, I shall rush out and buy a cat. The bastards. But I do enjoy watching them.

People...

The windows of the new place are in a terrible state. Some of the back windows are so dirty, you can hardly see through them. And it makes those rooms look very dark. So I hired the services of a window cleaner, and he was due to visit today. Yesterday evening I had a call from the said gentleman, confirming today's visit. I asked him if he was coming a.m. or p.m., and he said the former. Having gone to register with the new doctor, I rushed back home for half past nine. Then I waited. Then I waited some more. And I waited. I waited until 1.50pm, then decided I needed to get out for some air. Just now the man phoned me to ask where I was, so we had the conversation. Yes I want him to come the next time he is in the area, but I will only wait for the part of the day he says he will visit.
Meanwhile I am expecting delivery on Saturday of a brand new washing machine and a brand new dishwasher! This is the first time in my life that I have ever bough brand new ones. I do feel very lucky!

A long day

My sleep has reverted to its former pattern. I wake up during the night and stay awake for hours, where my mind is so busy thinking. Last night I woke up only briefly, but was wide awake at 4am this morning. It's a good thing that I don't mind the cold and dark. What I most enjoy is the quiet. There was no noise at all, apart from the sound of the icy, strong wind howling over the adjacent fields.
The council hasn't given me a bin yet, so the dustmen are unable to collect my rubbish. I can't have all that stuff rotting away in my kitchen, so I came up with a plan. I'm taking one carrier bag at a time to the bin on the main road. It took three goes to get rid of one sackful. Just one more to go.
I had a couple of things to do this morning, all in different places, so all involving standing around in the icy cold. That wasn't very enjoyable, but the last trip was satisfying; I finally ordered in my electricals. All being well, I shall have them on Saturday. I do feel tired.

A different life

I am settling down nicely in my new house. The rooms are a good bit smaller (but with higher ceilings) than I'm used to, and it feels so cosy. I particularly relish the peacefulness of it all. No longer do I have to rush out of the door in the morning. Nor are my evenings blighted by whatever the neighbours are up to. Nor am I woken up during the night by the same neighbours.
Over the last few weeks I noticed that there were no birds in the garden. This has given me my latest obsession: bird feeders. From the apple tree I have hung a variety of bird feeders, all containing different types of food. Now my garden is home to a flock of sparrows, blue tits, a blackbird, goldfinches, a robin and some starlings. That is such a nice change. Every day I visit the pet food shop to buy something new to try out on them. What a civilised sort of life, and so different from what I've had to endure.

Mission accomplished

Phew!!! I am quite worn out. After a frantic weekend packing the last of my things, and tidying up the flat as best I could, I moved house on Monday. Since then I have managed to unpack most of my stuff. I've been running round like a blue-arsed fly. It was all worth it, though. I love the new place, and the neighbours are really nice. I treated myself to the weekend off from the historic building, but here I am back this morning. I could really do with a rest.

A new perspective

I spent my second night in the new place. There is very little there at the moment. Upstairs I have an airbed and some of the belongings I took there. In the front room is the foulest, most disease-ridden-looking armchair I've ever seen. Well never mind. At least it's something to sit on, and it'll be gone by the time I move in (I hope). Last night I picked through Jenny Uglow's marvellous biography of the painter Hogarth. Again I was too busy thinking to take much notice of it. Again I really enjoyed being left in peace. I feel that I am no longer sharing my home with whichever antisocial neighbours I get saddled with.
I slept very well again and made my way home later on this morning. It's funny; when I got there I felt like an intruder. I was so uncomfortable that I rushed to get out of the place. In my mind, the new place is my real home now.
This morning I think I saw the last of that awful Chinese takeaway from two nights ago. All day yesterday my bowels were like Krakatoa. They have finally calmed down again. Last night I tried the local chippy. That was very good indeed, and much cheaper. Tonight I might eat out for a change, provided I don't change my mind by dinnertime.

My day

I got to the historic building, but would rather have had the day off. I had no choice, because I am in charge today. Because of the bitter weather there was hardly anybody walking around the town. Consequently we had no visitors, so I shut nice and early.
I went straight to the new place with my hoover. Someone else had the same idea; the landlady was hoovering when I arrived, so I did the upstairs. She has worked very hard at cleaning the place. It looks positively palatial compared to yesterday. The most exciting thing is that they have managed to open the back door, although they still need to fit a lock. Now I can have a fag in the garden, instead of lurking on the doorstep! It's all good.

Brrrrrr!

It is evil outside this morning, with an icy wind blowing straight off the sea. Chilled to the bone I made my way home. I needed to open the historic building, and to collect my hoover. The dust in the new place wasn't very nice, but I'll sort that out later on.
My brain is still going like the clappers, but now I'm not worrying so much. I know I'll be moving very shortly.

Something different

My Chinese takeaway was bad in more ways than I had expected. Not only was it badly cooked, but I think the food itself might have gone off. I had a couple of mouthfuls and disposed of the rest. Instead I had chocolate and cakes; very enjoyable but not very sustaining.
It was so peaceful at the new place. I had forgotten what a quiet evening at home was like. My brain was working overtime, but this time I could think without all the unwanted, antisocial interruptions. I had Tim Hitchcock's 'Down and out in Eighteenth-Century London' to hand, but found myself only looking at the pictures. I was too busy thinking.
I turned in reasonably early and had eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. I can't remember the last time that happened.

Since earlier

I really am tired. My eyes feel like they are going to fall inwards. I was just setting off for the new place, when I got a call from the tenants' association. The woman was mortified by what I told her, and said the association are going to speak to the neighbours downstairs.
So, having got to the new place, I proceeded to switch on the hoover. First of all it whirred, and then started making loud noises, rather like a pneumatic drill. Well that was that. I'll just have to do with the place dusty, but I don't mind really. What I did do, though, was to get the airbed inflated, and get the bed made. It's so lovely having all new things.
When I'd finished I took a walk down to the coast. The bay was closer than I thought, and it only took about ten minutes to walk there.It really is lovely, and so completely different from where I live now. The old town where I live is full of some really unattractive characters (of course I refer to their behaviour, not their looks). The new bit of coast is so much quieter. I can't help feeling that I am going to be very happy in the new place.

A busy couple of hours

I've just had an epic couple of hours. First of all I took some things to the new place, which I shall need tonight and tomorrow morning. Then it was a bus ride to she shopping precinct to buy an airbed, duvet, duvet cover, kettle and heater. I swear that Primark hasn't had that much money out of me since Armistice Day (ha!!!). It all took a long time because of local roadworks. The buses were all messed up, and the traffic heavy in places.
I've had a change of mind about later. I'll go back to the new place shortly, and give it a good hoovering. The place really is very dusty. Then I've decided to have a look at the new bit of coast. Instead of chips I've decided to try the local Chinese takeaway. Chinese takeaways in English residential areas are usually outrageously bad. But I feel like something bad for a change. I've been spoiling myself with good home cooking. The change will do me good.
No reply yet from the tenants' association. I expect my email has given them the hump.

A few thoughts

Sometimes it ain't easy being autistic. What with all the horrible stuff and all the excitement and anticipation, my brain is firing off all over the place. I'll have to be very careful when I go out. The last thing I need is another fall.
Here is the good stuff. Yesterday I had some unwanted large stuff taken to the local tip. I hated that chest of drawers, and thoroughly enjoyed smashing the cunt up.
Just now I spoke to the removals people, so now I'm not worried about it anymore. Just before that I emailed the tenants' association re the animals downstairs. I've finally got it orf me chest.

Sensory overload

Yesterday I went to the new house, and was delighted to see that the doors had been put in place, and that some of the kitchen cupboards had been repaired. The landlord had also cleared out some of the mountain of rubbish inside, and in front of the house.
I have just had two particularly awful nights with the antisocial people downstairs, and this has left me feeling completely done in. I've had two sleepless nights, and got up with a start at half past four this morning. This time I am not letting it go. I have emailed the tenant's association telling them in detail what I have had to put up with. I can't risk another night of that, so I'm sleeping at the new place tonight. I don't know how the boiler works, so it's going to be a cold one. I'm taking stuff to make coffee in the morning, and will buy some bedding and a kettle later on. It'll be something and chips for dinner, from round the corner.
I really am exhausted, both mentally and physically.

Let me tell you a story

Imagine that you were born with only one arm. You went through life struggling with many of the most basic tasks. Yet somehow, that one arm, because of all its exertions, was able to function fantastically well, and far in excess of what most other people were able to achieve with two arms.
Imagine too, that you, that you took all this as normal, because it was all you knew. Imagine that you had never noticed that everybody else had two arms, until late in life, someone pointed it out to you. At this point you realised why other people managed to all the things you had always found so difficult. Up to now you had a deep sense of being a failure, having been told so often 'Well everybody else can manage. Why can't you?' Then you suddenly realise that, given your great handicap, you have in fact survived remarkably well, and have achieved a great deal.
Now substitute the word ' autism' for the words 'one arm'. This is the story of my life.

A hectic time

What a busy time I'm having! I've done so many bus-trips during the week, that practically all my possessions are in the new house. I have an enormous number of books, but they can wait until I move in just over a week's time.
On top of that I've been doing loads and loads of practice for my next concert. Having played for some hours at the historic building, I'm playing for a function later on this evening. Then, in a couple ofweeks' time I am providing the music for a charity's Christmas 'do'.
I have stayed behind at the historic building because another bunch of cunts is coming to view my flat. I really don't want to be there.
I am very tired, as my sleep tends to be interrupted by hours of wakefulness. Them downstairs have been much quieter since I nearly exploded with rage when I saw them the other day.
Yawn! I could really do with a good sleep.

Today

I didn't sleep very well, and was awake for a couple of hours during the night, deep in thought. I eventually got up at half past eight this morning, feeling thoroughly worn out. Nevertheless I've taken three heavy bags of belongings to the new place, and all by bus. I must say the buses are pretty good round here. Of course local people do nothing but moan about them. But of course local people are very negative in the first place, and do nothing but moan about everything.
I'm still tired and won't be cooking tonight. I feel like a change so I'm going to dine in style; a pie from the supermarket and a tin of beans. Mmmmmmm!

In the meanwhile...

The people downstairs continue to behave increasingly anti-socially. Now they have hooked up their games machine to a pair of speakers, so I hear each computerised explosion and scream at almost deafening volume. I wasn't going to complain about it. I already complained about the previous upstairs tenant for the same reason, and she was later evicted for a whole catalogue of reasons. I had been  thinking that if I complained about these people too, it would make me look like a grumpy old git with a downer on all the neighbours. But that isn't the case. The flat upstairs has recently become occupied. Of course I hear them, but they behave decently. I have decided to email the tenants' association, and let them have it chapter and verse.
I was busy at the historic building all weekend, and my evenings were totally ruined by the behaviour I have already described. I didn't take any more of my things to the new place over the weekend, but resumed with another two trips today. I haven't got much more to take now, and the final move is going to be nice and simple. I've got removals people coming in to do it. I'm feeling too old to start lugging furniture and boxes round again, so having the removals people is a real treat for me. I've never done that before. One of the main reasons I made the booking, is that I want the piano moved properly. I don't think I could bear it if anything happened to that.

Nearly there

I will be moving home in just under a fortnight. After all the delays and dragging out, it's finally going to happen. I'm really looking forward to moving in, despite the terrible state it has been left in. I've had the key for about a week, so I have started taking my kitchen stuff there, so there will be less to move on the day. I've also bought new clothing and bedding, and that's over there too. I'm going to chuck the last of the clothes I have as soon as I move. I'm determined that this move will bring positive and lasting changes to my life.
The letting agent is showing a potential new inmate round my flat this evening. I'm keeping well clear until they have finished. I don't want those cunts walking round while I'm at home. When I was at home earlier, the people downstairs were at it, with their shrieking, raised voices and loud music. I wonder what the letting agent will think of it (if it's still going on). They are cunts too. I can't wait to see the back of them.
I still haven't quite got over my fall. The knee that I cut seems to be ok, but the other one still hurts. The knee-cap is flatter than the other one too. I wonder what I did to it.

To do with autism

My brain is always very active, and periodically gets overloaded with thoughts. In the not-too-distant past this would cause me to have fits, but the tablets seem to have stopped that. What tends to happen nowadays is that I get so wrapped up in my thoughts that I become unaware of my surroundings. I do things like walking into the road without looking. I had a variation on that theme two days ago when I did the same thing but without noticing the kerb. I landed on all fours, and have two black palms, one swollen knee and one cut knee to tell the tale. Since then at the historic building, I have knocked my head three times, and fallen on my elbows while going up the stairs. I really must be careful, but all this moving lark is starting to wear me out.

A busy time

I went to view the house last Sunday. It was in a sorry state, but it's a beautiful house with a large garden. On Tuesday I submitted the credit reference form, or rather I thought I had. It turns out that the wretched thing hadn't gone through after all, so I re-submitted it yesterday. This time I did receive a confirmation email, so fingers crossed. I should be moving in a month or so.
A couple of days ago the people downstairs decided to have a nice piss-up with their friends. It was awful,  deafeningly loud and in that hideous language of theirs. There was one funny moment though, when the wrong takeaway was delivered. That awful man spent ages on the phone, shouting at the restaurant staff. It took ages because the man's English is so poor. I swear I never want to hear that terrible language ever again.  Of course I know what language it is, but won't name it, for fear of offending all the decent people whose language it is.
Meanwhile we are in the middle of our Halloween event at the historic building. It's all spooks and skulls and lights; in other words, pure undiluted suite. It really is entertainment for cretins. I'll be glad when it's all over.

My week

I've had quite a week. The downstairs neighbours woke me up with loud music at 2am last Monday and Wednesday mornings. It was really horrible and I let rip with the most indelicate vocabulary. For one thing I can't get back to sleep when I'm woken in that manner, so I feel mentally and physically exhausted afterwards. And my mood has been terrible all week.
Then on Saturday the manager returned to the historic building. I really do think it's too soon. He really does look frail. So I'm having to keep an eye on him. That morning we had an incident involving a demented, deaf and uncommunicative old man. Of course everybody faffed around before eventually allowing me to call for an ambulance, which is exactly what I had suggested in the first place. Blimey. People don't half get on my nerves. Later on I was approached by someone who remembered me from years ago. And then I remembered him too. He always asked me to play the classical stuff. Well he's opening a restaurant, and asked me if I'd like to play there. I couldn't make my mind up on the spot. I never can. So I went to the restaurant yesterday morning to leave my details. He wasn't there so I left them with a very frosty-looking woman. I felt terrible from lack of sleep, and looked how I felt. I don't think the woman was impressed with me. I would like to hear back from them though.
Then yesterday morning I was woken up at 4am by the usual culprits. That was that. Chronic tiredness, headache, sore eyes and horrible mood all day. Those people really are a pack of cunts.
Last night I had a message from my support worker; we're going to view a house in a different area on Sunday. It is much more than I can comfortably afford, but I really don't mind going without again. It will be worth it, just to get away from those neighbours.
I'm thoroughly exhausted this morning. All the excitement of the new house kept waking me up during the night.

Another day

I've got a busy today, what with my recital this evening. I have to move all my stuff from the historic building to the venue; keyboard, stand, stool, scores, period costume, and all on foot. Then I have to arrange the seating in the hall. I'll reserve some seats at the back for any aspies, so they don't have to feel uncomfortable about sitting down in a crowd, and can get up whenever they want and without disturbing people. I'm going to play through my programme at least a few times; one or two of the pieces are still quite terrifying to play, and I'm not altogether happy with them.
My day got off to a strange start, as they not too unfrequently do. I pay for a parking space in the flats where I live, so that anyone who visits me will have somewhere secure to park. There has been a history of other residents parking there without my knowledge and without my permission. All they had to do was ask, and I wouldn't have minded. This morning I saw one of the main culprits, appearing to be driving out of my parking space. She is a nurse from a part of the world where people are generally (in my experience) volatile, and believing that the world owes them something. I had every intention of allowing her to use the space, but felt obliged to point out that I was paying for it. She hit the roof and turned very nasty, ranting and raving etc. I burst out laughing, and told her there's nothing like a display of good manners to start the day. She was so angry that her car cut out, which made me laugh even more. I was laughing both at her antics, and at the fact that I'd changed my mind about letting her use the space. Aggression just doesn't work with me.

Across the ages...

My ancestor John Freeth (1731-1808) is a man very much after my own heart. He was a humble innkeeper, a radical, a leading figure of the Birmingham Enlightenment. If he was anything like his descendants, then he was probably a bit of a cunt too. But I admire what he had to say about the terrible Enclosures Acts of the Industrial Revolution:

THE COTTAGER'S COMPLAINT, ON .. ENCLOSING SUTTON-COLDFIELD

HOW sweetly did the moments glide,
How happy were the days!
When no sad fear my breast annoyed,
Or e'er disturbed my ease;
Hard fate! that I should be compelled
My fond abode to lose,
Where threescore years in peace I've dwelled,
And wish my life to close.

Chorus

Oh the time! the happy, happy time,
Which in my cot I've spent;
I wish the church-yard was his doom,
Who murders my content.

My ewes are few, my stock is small,
Yet from my little store
I find enough for nature's call,
Nor would I ask for more!
That word, ENCLOSURE! to my heart
Such evil doth bespeak,
I fear I with my all must part,
And fresh employment seek.
Chorus—Oh the time, &c.

What little of the spacious plain
Should power to me consign,
For want of means, I can't obtain,
Would not long time be mine:
The stout may combat fortune's frowns,
Nor dread the rich and great;
The young may fly to market-towns,
But where can I retreat?
Chorus—Oh the time, &c.

What kind of feelings must that man
Within his mind possess,
Who, from an avaricious plan,
His neighbours would distress?
Then soon, in pity to my case,
To Reason's ear incline;
For on his heart it stamps disgrace,
Who formed the base design.

Chorus

Oh the time! the happy, happy time,
Which in my cot I've spent;
I wish the church-yard was his doom,
Who murders my content.

 

Today

I've had a very interesting and enjoyable sort of day, exploring an historic mediaeval town near to where I'm visiting. I enjoyed the old alleys, charity shops and the pound shop, and had a lovely cream tea for breakfast. The town was very picturesque and atmospheric. Afterwards we visited a couple of Saxon churches. I cooked a very traditional and tasty dinner for three, and it tasted much better than when I cook for myself. It was all very convivial.
I've been up since half past three this morning, and am consequently very tired. I hope I sleep better tonight, and that I am not pestered by the horrible nightmares of the past couple of nights. I've already had a bottle and a half of wine, with that end in mind, but have my eyes on a further glass or two. Nightmares is a cunt.

A funny sort of night

The awful ordeal of the last two years, and the events of the past couple of weeks, have caught up with me. I've had one of those nights where the anxiety and depression have ganged up with the autism to leave me feeling completely battered.
I'm away from home this week, and having such a marvelous time with dear friends, and catching up with people I hadn't seen for such a long time. I now have the opportunity to go to India, and I'm really excited about it. I love carnatic music, and a trip to certain cities in Tamil Nadu will give me (I hope) the opportunity to find some interesting recordings. I'm worried about the climate, the general business of it all, and the insects. I'm quite phobic about insects at the best of times. I know it's quite silly, but that's how I am. I've decided to go for only a week, just in case I find it too difficult.
I had really terrible nightmares last night, and woke up in a state of panic at half past three this morning. The agonisingly long period of mistreatment by those in authority, the final outcome at the tribunal, the uncertainty about my flat and my impatience to move, my concern for the man at the historic building who had a heart attack, my finding myself in charge of the building when there is nothing I would rather do less, my playing for a wedding reception next weekend, my forthcoming concert; I woke up with all these things going through my head, and sweating profusely.
On top of that there are still things that I need to sort out with my support worker when I see her. And on top of that, there is the full expectation that things will go wrong for me. That is what generally happens. Ain't I cheerful.

My week

I have had a roller-coaster of a week. There was the build-up to my tribunal hearing, which was really stressful. Meanwhile the hideously noisy downstairs neighbours gave regular performances every afternoon and evening. Meanwhile the man who runs the historic building suffered a heart attack last Sunday night. That piece of news was awful. He is likely to be off sick for a long time, and it is possible he may not come back. So that leaves me in charge. I don't want to be in charge, but am determined the building remains open. We are very short of volunteers too, which is a headache. This week I have found myself at the reception desk instead of playing, and that's not ideal. I feel very shaken by it all. I don't cope well with all this sudden change. My few days away might do me some good, I hope.

The final result

I've had a very trying couple of weeks. I had been waiting nearly two years for my chance to take the Government's agency to the tribunal. Well the date was today, and I won. I'm still numb with shock. I suppose it'll take a while for it all to sink in.
The agency which is employed by the Government to conduct psychological assessments had lied about my interviews; not once but twice. No wonder people with mental health problems are being driven to suicide. Today I was interviewed by a judge and an independent doctor, and they understood me within the ten minutes it took them to make their decision.
I have a bitter-sweet taste in my mouth, when I think of all those poor people who are still being mistreated by a vile system. I am lucky.

Doldrums

I don't feel so depressed as I have been lately. There's still a touch of the doldrums though. When I'm in that frame of mind, I find myself watching Judge Judy, and numerous dumbed-down murder documentaries. Yesterday I eventually managed to watch one of these, stupidly sensational 'conspiracy theory' things. I say eventually, as, because of the constant and intrusive noise from outside, it took me nearly three hours to watch a one-hour programme. I had to keep stopping the thing when the noise got too much. And that was often. That part of my autism is a bit of a cunt.

The weather

The weather is beautiful today, warm bright and sunny. Just how I like it. I took myself home for a cooked breakfast earlier, and that seems to be doing the trick with the hangover. Feeling less fragile, I finally made it to the barbers, and no longer looked like the wolf-man of Borneo when I re-emerged.
The news bulletins are very worrying indeed. It is horrifying to think that someone who appears to be mentally unstable, is able to wield such power. And it is equally horrifying that other English-speaking regimes are eager to stand 'shoulder to shoulder' with him. Haven't we learned anything at all? It all reminds me of the 1930s, when German-speaking regimes and populations rushed to support a similarly unstable, but very powerful, German-speaking individual. Or is my imagination running away with me? I can't help thinking that it is not.

In general

I have had a very busy week. While the historic building was closed, I did hours and hours of practice, as usual. My October recital is bang on course. I also did a few guided tours, which generated another £50 in donations. I had a boring week during our normal opening hours, with most visitors just walking past. I hadn't intended to go in on Sunday, however, because we had a group visit first thing, I went in as a favour. I left immediately after their departure. The man who runs the place told me he'd spoken to the man with issues around talking (i.e. he can't keep his mouth shut and his voice is loud), so I've agreed to continue going in on Sundays, subject to any improvements.

I spent most of yesterday afternoon in and out of pubs with friends. That was an unusual sort of afternoon for me. I managed to fall up the stairs when I got home last night, and feel quite hung-over this morning. Never mind. I'm looking forward to my trip to 'foreign parts' (?) tomorrow.

Since last time

I was in a filthy mood when I got home on Sunday afternoon. While I was watching a film that evening, a pigeon flew into my front room, crashed around on various walls and windows, and finally sat on the carpet looking very dazed. I swung a broom at it and it miraculously found its way out. I hope it had a headache. Pigeons are a cunt.
Yesterday I saw the man who runs the historic building. I had calmed down a bit by then, so was able to tell him what had happened. I also told him I won't be doing any more Sundays if that man is on duty. So, I'm having this Sunday off.
And the World news is getting very nasty indeed. The very people who are supposed to be statesmanlike and acting in the interests of their people, seem hell-bent on leading us to global destruction. Never mind all this 'strong and stable' bollocks. It seems that some of our national leaders are far from stable. I refer, of course, to their psychological state.

Moods

I was really quite depressed for most of last week, but I started to come out of it during Friday. Saturday was OK. Then on Sunday, re the one at the historic building who can't stop talking; I was playing to someone,  he walked in, sat next to them and started talking. I didn't say anything, but I completely lost it, got up and walked out. I couldn't go home because I was holding the only key, so I sat in the garden until closing time. The truth is I don't know how to react to the situation. It's not the first time this has happened. I wanted to speak to the manager about it, but I hadn't realised that he'd fucked off early. I'm not going in this Sunday. In fact I'm not doing any more Sundays unless the problem is sorted out.
Our town had an outdoor musical event over the weekend. (I use the term 'music' loosely). Thankfully it poured down with rain on Saturday, so all the music was indoors. It finished at 2am, at which point I was woken up by drunken revellers staggering down the street. And then there was another lot. I spent the rest of the night awake. The weather was nice on Sunday, so the music was consequently louder. It only went on until 10pm, and I slept much better.
My mood has been low again ever since Sunday. I'm going away next Tuesday, and I don't want another bad Sunday before I go.

The local wildlife

There is a derelict building bordering the garden that I'm looking after, which is badly infested with pigeons. The man who runs the historic building feeds them every morning, which hasn't helped me one bit. The said pigeons keep attacking my plants. When I arrived there this morning, I saw them completely strip two fuchsias of all the buds that were about to open. Bastards. I'm really livid about it, and the feeling is likely to go on for some time. I've decided that I'm not going to look after the garden any more. I've worked so hard on it, but those bloody birds have completely broken my will to carry on with it. I'd surrounded a number of plants with wire mesh, because the pigeons had been eating all the buds. Later on I'm going to remove all the wire mesh, so they can have those plants too. I'm sick and tired of it. Cunts.

An active life

I had a pretty tedious weekend at the historic building. I was the only staff to turn up on the Saturday, so I spent the time stuck behind the till, and doing my level best to avoid having to talk to anyone. Later on one of our staff turned up unexpected; one of the most negative people I have ever known. She makes the rest of us feel really miserable, and doesn't do my depression one bit of good. So I asked her to work upstairs, where I wouldn't have to see her.
A friend came to see me on Saturday, and stayed overnight. We had a lovely afternoon in the pouring rain, visiting two nearby seaside towns. After that we went to the pub for a bit, and ended the day watching an old film with our cheese and wine.
The plasterer came this morning to fix my bedroom wall. The work only took him a couple of hours. Last night I slept on a mattress in the spare room, and will stay there until the plaster has dried and been painted.
This morning hasn't been very nice. My support worker contacted me earlier to say that she had been signed off sick, so wouldn't be able to see me tomorrow. I feel really bad about it, as I know my problems must have contributed toward her illness. And then the landlord is coming on Thursday to inspect my flat, so I have had to cancel my counselling session. All these last-minute changes, and all the chaos really throw me off balance. I try so hard to plan my life carefully and in advance, so that I will be able to cope better. I sometimes wonder why I bother.

The last couple of days

Yesterday we had a busy day at the historic building, but it was thoroughly unenjoyable. The visitors were either po-faced or chavs, sometimes both. I was so fed up with it that I closed half an hour early.
I've been getting really stressed about the weekend. A friend is coming to visit me, and is staying overnight. Of course I am looking forward to seeing them, but I get really anxious because I'm not used to having someone else at home. I'm sure it will be fine, but I still feel really edgy. I woke up at four o'clock this morning having slept very badly.
The news was horrible last night, what with the increasing threat of war in the far east, and the inevitable conclusion of the terminally-ill boy story.
Another thing on my mind is that I've got the plasterer coming on Monday morning, to repair my damaged bedroom wall. That has been on my mind too, as I shall have to sleep on a mattress on the spare-room floor while the plaster dries. My bed is too heavy for me to move on my own. It's all upheaval.
Then yesterday I had a letter from the landlord, advising me of a flat inspection this coming Friday. I can't do it, as the historic building is open on Fridays. So I'm waiting for them to get back to me with a new appointment. Three disruptions in a week (and the news bulletins) are making my head feel very overcrowded.

This week

I've had a funny sort of week with more of the same old thing; my appalling mood and raised anxiety causing my stomach to go on strike again. Felt so tired yesterday and quite unwell. I slept very well last night, and feel a whole load better today. I have a visitor this weekend, so am busting a gut go get the flat looking pristine. Luckily the plasterer who was supposed to come tomorrow now isn't coming until Monday, so I shan't have to sleep on the living-room floor.
The news continues to get me down. There is wall-to-wall coverage of the terminally-ill baby. That is very sad for the parents, but their behaviour is getting on my nerves. They argue with the doctors at every step and turn. The poor doctors are trying their best, but the parents are always so obstructive. When someone is so close to death, there is not all that much the medical profession can do about it, except for making the patient as comfortable as possible. What is most annoying for me is that this is not a national news story. It's a private one for the family, but they have chosen to splatter it all over the media. I find myself wondering what important things are not being reported, because of the time given to this story. And then we follow the disgraceful activities of some of the most despicable and revolting political leaders in living memory. Yugh. No wonder I get so depressed.

Something different

I had a good meeting with my support worker yesterday afternoon. I need to get some paperwork together before we re-convene next week. I slept very early (around 9.30pm) but still feel tired and listless.
This morning I was in a delegation from the local museum, that went to visit a centre for people with brain injuries. First one of our people gave a very interesting (although rather too wordy) talk on local history. Afterwards I played some of the things I play at the historic building, followed by some old-time songs. They have asked me to play for their Christmas party, which, of course, I have agreed to. I'll take myself home in a minute or two. I really do need to lie down.

Social media

I am often astonished or dismayed by what I read on social media. I've just seen one story about poor little abandoned elephants that are in need of love and affection. What a load of shite. Elephants are elephants and think like elephants. They are not people and don't think like people. While I do find the mistreatment of animals utterly repugnant, I am much more worried about how people are treated. I wonder if the dear person who published this article voted for the present government, which tirelessly persecutes the weak and vulnerable in our society.
Then I read the ongoing news of the terminally ill baby, whose sufferings and the actions of whose parents make daily headlines. There have apparently been some very nasty goings-on by supporters of that cause, with horrible threats being received by medical staff and other patients' visitors. Sadly I am not all that surprised. The Pro-Life lot are on board, with their nasty Christian values.

The last few days

When I got home on Friday afternoon, a very unwelcome letter was waiting for me. It was from the council's 'Landlord Liaison Officer', saying that they would do everything possible to help me stay in my flat. Whoever sent me that letter must be a complete idiot. My main aim is to get out of the place. All the noise makes it feel more like a prison than a home. I went in to their offices this morning, to tell them that they are not to involve my landlord. That would make a horrible situation even worse. And they also recorded that I do not want to stay where I am. That letter drove my anxiety level through the roof. I felt once or twice that I was about to have a fit. I didn't in the end, but spent the afternoon lying down in case I did.
I had a very busy weekend, but my mind wasn't on what I had to do, what with all the anxiety & depression stuff. I felt tired and unwell all weekend. I had two very busy sessions at the historic building. I did a few of my guided tours, mostly social history and very little about the architecture. I do find architectural details so tedious. The playing was a success, and I gave what amounted to a few concerts of harpsichord sonatas by Soler.
Then on Saturday evening I was booked to play for a wedding reception in the next town. The groom was nice, but the bride and her family were a bunch of chavs. Luckily they were nice and noisy, so I didn't have to worry too much about the playing. I played a piano reduction of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (first three movements; I'm still working on the finale) with all the repeats to stretch it out a bit, Mendelssohn's Wedding March (from A Midsummer Night's Dream), some Chopin waltzes etc, the dreaded Moonlight Sonata, some Piaf songs and a few of the more tuneful old-time songs.  The groom said my playing was 'fantastic', although I doubt he heard a single note, what with all the noise.
When I got back home I went straight to the pub to buy my friend a pint for his birthday. And it is such a nice feeling to be able to do that.

A bit of levity.....

....or is it? This is my ideal state of things.

This morning

Yesterday teatime onward hasn't been very nice. Noise outside to begin with, lots of cars pulling up and waiting for ages with their engines running. Then the nomads downstairs joined in with the general cacophony, with one explosion after another, and all the horrible 'musical' bits of their computer game. Then from 9-11 pm someone over the road had a generator running intermittently. It was still running when I went to bed.
I got up at about half past six this morning feeling very battered. I am crowded out with over-thinking, and already have a headache, and pins and needles in my arms and legs. Then I got to the garden to do some work, only to find that there has been some more vandalism since yesterday afternoon. It really is depressing. It ain't always easy being autistic, you know. Autism can be a bit of a cunt.

Recently

I've just been away for a short break with friends. That was very enjoyable but quite exhausting. I'm not as young as I was! So this week it's back to normal. Well almost. I'm playing for a wedding reception on Saturday and haven't done anything about it. I haven't played a piano for about a year, I think, so I'm busting a gut trying to get my programme together. I've been doing my usual playing on top of that, and have had neither the time nor the energy to do anything in the garden that I'm working.
My mood isn't all that great. I came home from my break to the usual noise, with lots of the little girl screaming stuff at 6am on Tuesday morning. The TV news leaves me feeling depressed and angry. The BBC weather forecasts are just about as accurate as their news bulletins. It's pissing down with rain now, when this morning's forecast said that it would be a bit overcast. It's crap really, when you consider what these people are paid.

Since Friday

Although we had a good number of visitors over the weekend at the historic building, I felt generally bored and lacking in motivation. Although we are closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, I admitted a German family yesterday, and two Australians and a French family today. They all thoroughly enjoyed it. I do like to do my bit for the United Nations and for the European Union, despite what my compatriots voted for. I don't care what the new laws say. I will always feel myself to be European.
However there are certain European individuals I do not like one bit, and would gladly see them deported. I refer, of course, to my downstairs neighbours, the noisy cunts. Sunday was particularly awful. The opening of beer cans, ever louder and louder conversation at the open window, loud telly, loud music, little girl running round screaming out. I had all this from teatime until they had their dinner at about nine. Then I heard the man throw up violently. Then he threw up violently again. He must have chucked up five or six times by the time he reached (pardon the pun) his hallway door, and I found myself cheering quietly with each yack. Then it went all quiet. It was lovely. His wife should cook more often. The ensuing peace and quiet is such a tonic.
I steel feel very low, but not as anxious as I felt last week. I really must stop watching the news. It is all very depressing.

Generally...

I've been feeling increasingly down lately, and now realise I'm going through another period of depression. For a start the news leaves me feeling thoroughly miserable most days. Strangely though, depression does bring some benefits. For one thing my playing improves dramatically when I'm depressed. Today I practiced for about three hours, and am working simultaneously on seven sonatas by Scarlatti and seven more by Soler. Apart from the creativity brought by depression, the rest of it is a cunt.
I had a gruelling session of counselling at lunchtime, and I'm seeing my support worker a bit later on this afternoon. The weather has been very warm and stuffy today. However the storms the BBC expected this morning still haven't arrived. The BBC's weather forecasts are just about as reliable as their news broadcasts.

Yesterday

I spent some time cooking what as for me an extravagant meal. I didn't enjoy it and hardly ate any of it. Outside was very noisy all evening. The sound of static cars' engines played in counterpoint with the nomadic music from downstairs, punctuated every now and then by the little girl screaming and loud, unintelligible conversation. Downstairs quietened down by about 8.30pm, but the cars stayed noisy. I hate some bread once things had settled down, and did nothing in particular until I went to bed a couple of hours later. What a boring life I lead.

Hard times

Our country is short of money, we are told. Nothing for nurses. Nothing for teachers. Nothing for firemen or the police. The cupboard is bare. It is as if the country is waiting at the Workhouse gate.

Now just a minute. Tens of millions of pounds are being paid if transfer fees for individual footballers. Untold millions are paid out in sports' sponsorship. Tax loopholes for the wealthy are not being closed. The government gives MPs two huge pay rises per year. Brenda gets a huge pay rise, and is slipped a tidy packet to do up her main home. The national broadcaster pays its staff shockingly inflated wages. And the government has just outraged many by giving a billion-pound bung to a group of shady politicians, just so it can maintain its stranglehold on power.

You see we don't need any magic money trees. The supernatural doesn't even come into it. There is a huge amount of money that could be called upon, if the government were to get its priorities right. There is more than enough to go round.

Entertainment for the masses

The television in this country is dire. Daytime viewing consists largely of programmes on the following subjects: gardening, DIY, cookery, moving house, sport, auctions and bargain-hunting, talk shows and the occasional TV film. Around teatime the odd quiz show (full of the most uninspiring and pointless questions that the average three-year-old would not find too challenging) creeps in. Then we have evenings; soap operas, melodramas in installments, more cookery, news, slightly more serious (??) quizzes. There is the occasional film, usually of the most coma-inducing type. The TV is like some great cement mixer, churning round and round the same old drear ad infinitum.
Then there are the repeats, or as the broadcasters put it: 'another chance to see...'. I know some of the repeats word for word, where they have been shown so often. I often have to wait several days for something to be shown that I find even remotely engaging. Most evenings I find myself watching news channels, with the sound turned off, so I can occupy myself by improving my lip-reading skills. I wonder if the TV situation is the same in other countries. Or do we have a monopoly on it?

Over the weekend

I had a good Saturday at the historic building, but Sunday was mind-numbing. I was quite preoccupied yesterday, and my mood had deteriorated by teatime. After another restless night, my mood is pretty horrible today.
Earlier on I went and did a bit of planting in the garden that I'm working. I didn't feel like having people around me, so I sat there for a bit of peace and quiet and solitude. It was, however, not to be. I had quite a shock when I looked up and saw two of the people I least want to see; Last year, someone I worked with was sent to prison for murder. That was really awful. Well the two persons were his mother and her partner. I didn't know what to say, but I kept my cool and was civil as I was told all the latest, depressing updates. I'll tell the building's manager the next time I see him. I'm sure this has dome my mental health no end of good.
On the brighter side, I have two further concerts provisionally booked. One of them will be for the benefit of the local museum, and the other to raise funds for the local Labour Party. I couldn't handle the meetings and 'people stuff', but let's see if I can raise a few bob for them. I really want this government out. Cunts.

Since last time

I had a phenomenally busy day at the historic building. Yesterday morning before opening time, a group of 72 primary school children turned up unannounced. We let them in in four groups, so there were four music workshops and four tours. I was tired before we even opened!
Around lunchtime I was called over to the reception desk. The man behind the counter couldn't understand the woman who had come in. That was hardly surprising; she was Russian with hardly any English. So my very broken Russian came to the rescue again. I managed to sort out a visit for her twenty students and three colleagues for that afternoon. The visit went really well, and the kids gave me a loud cheer when I spoke to them in Russian. The tour was conducted in a mixture of broken English and broken Russian, but we managed to make ourselves understood.
Then it was home to dinner. I had been looking forward to it, but didn't enjoy the meal one bit. I think it was because I was so tired. I had a thoroughly miserable evening watching a news channel. Bed at half past ten.

Yesterday

I had a different sort of day. Yesterday morning I had only just turned up to start on the garden, when three people came up to the old building. Needless to say I gave them the tour, although we were closed. It turned out that the three of them were all teachers, one local and two from Madrid. They really enjoyed their visit, and it looks like we're going to get more business from them.
The evening and night were horrible. The nomadic persons in our flats were in fine form. It was continuous noise from 4pm onwards. It was still going on when I turned in at 10.30pm. I don't know how I managed to sleep. I must have been very tired.
Earlier on I took myself to the pub to get away from it. The cider was really awful, with bits & pieces and what looked like slime drifting about in it. I had one sip. That was a mistake; it tasted even worse than it looked. I took myself straight home again to enjoy my neighbours' antics.
The news was horrible again. I watched 'democracy' in action, when a bunch of dodgy politicians without a mandate got their way in Parliament. It's surprising what a 'bung' can get you.

Current affairs

The news here continues grim, and seems to worsen by the minute. One disreputable group of politicians with extreme views has just done a dodgy deal with another disreputable group of politicians with extreme views, just so that the former can maintain its grip on power. And hey presto, the former have found a huge amount of money (which they had always maintained was not there, when it was needed for such things as hospitals), in order to stump up the appropriate bung. It really stinks. I have never been patriotic. One's nationality is an accident of birth. But what with this latest news, on top of the Brexit stuff and the forthcoming cuts to disabled people's benefits, I am feeling positively ashamed to be British. Oh, and by the way Brenda is to get a £600 million per annum pay rise, on top of the £300-odd million that she's been awarded for home refurbishment. And all this in times of austerity.

Life

I've been quite busy since the last time I wrote. I'm working on a number of new (for me) sonatas by Scarlatti and Soler, with a view to putting on another concert in a few months. I've also been spending a lot of time trying to knock the garden into shape. Apart from that I've had my usual sessions at the historic building. Yesterday we had another group of children from Chernobyl, who had come to England for a holiday. They were such fun, playing games in the garden, dressed in period costume, and joining in with the music. I find days like that really worthwhile.
Earlier in the week, while we were closed, an elderly Ukrainian woman and her daughter were looking round the garden, so I showed her around the building. She spoke very little English, but my smattering of half-remembered Russian came in really handy. They really liked the place. There are times I realise I'm not as daft as I think I am.

On reflection....

It really is all gloom and doom lately. In this country there have been two terrorist atrocities with major loss of life. Yesterday a bungled act of terrorism resulted in a number of people being injured. Then last week there was the terrible fire in a block of flats in London. I should be very surprised if the death toll doesn't rise much higher.
Then yesterday the death was reported of the American student who got into trouble in North Korea and had been in a coma for about a year. It all looks very suspicious indeed. Fifteen years' hard labour for nicking a poster is a horribly excessive sentence, but not out of keeping with what one might expect from a dictatorship. What the hell was he doing in a country like that, and what possessed him to take the poster? Whatever the reason, he didn't deserve what happened to him.
Meanwhile we still have the strong and stable one, who seems hell bent on hanging on to power whatever it takes. Even if that means forming a dodgy alliance with some very dubious people in order to do so.
The world could be such a lovely place, if it weren't for the people who live in it.

Strange times

It has been all go on the political front, what with the run-up to the General Election, the election itself and the subsequent fallout. The Government's campaign was an utter disgrace, and consisted largely of soundbites and personal attacks on Labour MPs. Well the government has taken a right hiding. Good. They have the largest number of seats of any party, but only managed to poll 2% more of the votes than the Labour Party did. And Labour now has more support than the other lot, if the polls are to be believed.
The squatter at Number Ten has now unveiled her latest Chamber of Horrors, which is to all intents and purposes exactly the same as it was before the election. Her position in Parliament is so weakened, that she is now trying to broker an alliance with a bunch of hard-nuts.
It's all quite frightening, when you think about it. It can't be too long away until she is finally dislodged. And I fully expect there to be another general election shortly afterwards, when this awful, vindictive administration will get booted out.
Strong and stable, eh? Don't make me laugh! Aggressive and arrogant is more to the point. Not long ago she could hardly keep away from the television screens. Now neither she nor her henchmen seem to have anything to say to to any of the news reporters. I suppose she is probably lying low until she has finished cooking up her alibi. It is ironic that she seems to have met the very fate that she had predicted for her opponent; she has found herself 'naked and alone'. Funny, that, ain't it? Well I'm not laughing. It ain't funny. But I'm not crying either.

Lately

Last week I went to visit my brother. Twice in four months is quite a record. We're getting on better now than we have ever done. What a shame it has such a long time. The day I arrived I started to go down with a cold, and by the end of the week I was feeling pretty rotten.
I played both days of the weekend as usual, and managed to fit in a bit of gardening too. Several passers-by have commented on how nice it is starting to look. One person even said that it has never looked to nice as it does now. I still have to put up with the petty vandalism, and find branches snapped off things with sickening monotony. This morning it was the tree paeony. Previous targets have included the lilac, a rhododendron and a couple of rose bushes.
On Monday I gave a short presentation to a party of mentally-disabled teenagers, and today I'll be doing something similar for three groups (I can't remember who they are).
In the meanwhile I've started work on a Spanish programme for my next harpsichord recital. Apart from all this I'm very lazy.

A milestone

On Thursday evening I gave my first ever public recital. I had always had a horror of playing in front of people. It was all the eyes that I used to find so overwhelming. All the being watched. And all the awareness that I get so 'locked-in' when I'm playing, that my autism is written all over my face. Of course I now know that there is nothing wrong with that, but it did used to make me feel very strange.
In the lead-up to the concert, when I ran through my programme, I realised that I had prepared far too much music; an enormous amount in fact, running for some three hours or so. I got round that by omitting any repeats, so the final playing time was about an hour and three-quarters. My lesson for next time is that I will prepare fewer pieces, and play them in full. And I will start half an hour earlier. I did feel tired by the time I finished.
I hadn't been worried at all about my concert. That was something completely different for me, as I had been terrorised at uni by the thought of having to play in front of people. Last Thursday, however, my hands and face became numb when I kicked off, and I felt a bit light-headed and short of breath. Those feelings soon passed though, and I began to feel much more comfortable. I was aware of several 'slips and bumps', but the listeners apparently were  not. I lost my place once during the second half, but made a joke of it. Those present said they had really enjoyed the evening, and their faces said the same thing. So I've started preparing for another recital at the same venue. Next time it will be Spanish music from the Eighteenth Century, Scarlatti, Soler etc. I'm already looking forward to it.

Lately

I've done a huge amount of gardening lately, and have spent many hours running through the programme for next week's concert. That is getting very close now, but I think I'll be fine. I do feel very tired and am aching considerably. I really shouldn't be doing so much, but sometimes forget how much older I'm getting.
Early yesterday evening I was just getting ready to eat my dinner, and then the horrifically loud music started, and the overactive kid started screaming and shouting. I had to eat my dinner sat on my bed. I could still hear it all, but not so loudly.
After dinner I went back to the front room, had a fag and tried to stay calm, but I couldn't. I decided to treat them to some music, for a change. I started with Webern's Five Movements, op.5 and concluded with Rossini's aria Non Piu Mesta from La Cenerentola, all at full volume of course. All had become quiet downstairs. I can only conclude that the neighbours had ernjoyed my choice of music, and were eager to hear more. But that was enough of the music. I settled down watching documentaries instead.
I went to bed at half past nine. A few hours later I was awoken by very loud music. (I use the term 'music' very loosely. It mostly consisted of loud thuds, with an out-of-tune 'backing', and someone babbling at the top of their voice above it all. Horrible). It sounded like a party was in progress in the disused garage opposite to where I live. It took me ages to get back to sleep, and I eventually woke up feeling like crap. To cap it all, my landlord is now charging me a lot more for the privilege.

A long weekend

I have been working very hard in the garden, and parts of it are starting to look very nice indeed. Friday was fairly quiet at the historic building, but I managed to make myself useful by giving a guided tour in German to a woman and her son. They both said afterwards how much they enjoyed it. I did a lot of playing over the weekend, with very stiff hands and swollen fingers from all the weeding I'd done. I still feel very tired indeed. There's just over a week until my concert. The powers that be have been advertising it, so it looks like at least sixty people will be coming, rather than the twenty-odd that I'd been expecting. It really is all go. In the meanwhile I've contacted the letting agent to ask if they have any flats available. I can't wait to get out of where I'm living now. The neighbours and their progeny sound like something out of Jurassic Park.

Modern times

What times we live in. The worlds seems all aggression and hostility. Too many countries are at each other's throats. Some countries stir up other countries against some regime or other that they don't happen to like. And even within certain countries there is the most terrifying sectarian hatred, where people's lives come very cheap. For fuck sake, why can't people try to treat others more kindly, and with just an ounce of compassion and respect? There isn't enough kindness in the world, and more's the pity. Life doesn't need to be as horrible as this.
No, I'm not pointing the finger of blame elsewhere. Our government has picked of the weakest and most vulnerable members of the population, demonised them and forced many into poverty. Meanwhile the richest people, the government's main donors, have reaped huge amounts of money at the expense of the poor. Our government sneers indignantly at human rights abuses in foreign parts, while committing human rights abuses themselves (their treatment of the disabled), and consorting with some of the most horrific regimes in human history. The saddest thing is that the 'informed and educated' British electorate will probably vote for them again in the forthcoming general election. It really does make me want to cry.
Meanwhile I continue to work very hard on the historic building's garden, and am practicing relentlessly for my concert in a couple of weeks. And then there is the housing issue. And the tribunal, for which I'm still waiting to learn the date. And the noisy neighbours. There are times I feel I am going completely barmy (if I'm not already).

Since yesterday

I had a lovely peaceful evening. It felt very strange indeed. The neighbours were at home, but there was none of the antisocial stuff that I've been having to live with. My outburst of the previous evening, an expression of the frustration I was no longer able to contain, must have given them pause for thought. Let's see what this evening brings.
I've got a busy day today. I shall be doling some gardening very shortly. Then later on this morning I'm doing one of my mini lecture-recitals for a visiting group of Dutch students. Then I'll spend the rest of the day getting the historic building ready for our Easter event. All good stuff.

Since yesterday evening

I turned in at 10.15pm, exhausted and with a headache, and could still hear the neighbours quite clearly as I tried to settle down. I didn't sleep at all well. I dreamed about what I'd been through all evening. I dreamed about the housing situation. I dreamed about the garden I am working on. I dreamed about the concert I am practicing for. I woke up just after 4am, deep in thought, edgy, in a horrible mood and still with a headache. I've been ratty all day. The headache still hasn't gone and I do feel so very tired.

Life

I've really been having a funny old time of it lately. By 'funny' I don't mean hilarious. Far from it. I mean 'funny' in the sense of strange. Take my housing for example. Friday began with the belief that I would at some point be asked to vacate the flat. On Friday afternoon the letting agency warned me that prospective buyers would be coming to see the flat on Saturday lunchtime. On Saturday morning I received a further email from the letting agent, advising me that the viewing had been cancelled, as the owner no longer wanted to sell the property. On Saturday afternoon I received a letter from the letting agent, informing me that my rent will be increased substantially from next month.
Of course the first thing I did was to let my support worker know what was going on, and we met about it yesterday morning. Because I'm not going to be evicted, the first option we were going for (and much better than what I currently have) is no longer available. But it will be in due course, what with the supporting evidence from the Mental Health Team. It looks like I will need to move soon, but will go for the better thing after. My support worker has already referred me to the best agency to help deal with this.
All this has been happening against a background of appalling noise levels at home. One morning I was woken up by the neighbours at 4.45am, who were on their balcony and being very loud. They sounded as if they were blind drunk. Much more of this and I will be speaking fluent Bulgarian in a very short time. I really don't object to the language being Bulgarian. My autism leaves me hypersensitive to sound, and the fact that I can hear all this constant loud noise in a language I don't understand only adds to the distress of it. Last night the noise was more or less continuous from about 5pm. At 10pm the general cacophony was added to by football being broadcast too loudly, and the sound of Juventus football chants being played over and over again for ages. The same two or three bloody chants. I exploded into an outburst of the most inelegant kind. The people heard me. I could hear them repeating it, but it didn't stop them making a noise. Selfish cunts.

Lately

I've had quite a lot going on lately, what with the two ongoing tribunal appeals and the housing situation. So I've tried to channel my energy into doing something constructive, namely lots of practice and lots of gardening. It's got to the point where gardening and practice are my two current obsessions. All the issues and the activities swill round in my head day and night, and leave me very tired from lack of sleep. The most I can manage lately is six hours a night, but it is usually nearer to five and sometimes less than that. Yawn.

News

The news bulletins seem to be going from bad to worse. It really is depressing, what with all the tales of suffering on both a small and a large scale. I don't understand why people can't at least try to treat one another a bit more kindly.
What for me is quite terrifying, is when the leader of what is apparently a democracy, acquires for herself by stealth almost dictatorial powers. Who are we to lecture anyone on the virtues of democracy? The terrifying thing about it is that the game-show-watching majority will believe the woman to be doing good, and will vote for her time and time again. Governments and societies that persecute their weakest members are not manifestations of a healthy democracy.
What is also of concern is, that what we are told is a 'fair, free and impartial' press is neither of these things. It broadcasts those things the Government wants us to be told, and in a way that reflects well on the Government. It manipulates the truth. It gives little or no coverage to matters that would rock the boat. One example is the recent U.N report on H.M. Government's treatment of the disabled. Another is the many thousands of suicides and suspicious deaths of disabled people, whose benefits had been stopped. Another is the recent anti-Brexit march. Is this really the sort of world that people want to live in?

A roof over one's head

A couple of weeks ago, the letting agency called (Bastards. I asked them to either text or email me.) to say that the landlord was going to sell my flat, and that I was going to be given notice to vacate the premises. At the time, that was devastating news. The following week I received several further calls, informing me that potential buyers were going to be shown round the flat. I've had no further calls since then, so I'm assuming that the sale is going ahead. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I really loved my flat when I moved in. It was more than I could possibly have hoped for. I still love it, but for quite a while I haven't enjoyed living there. It has become noisier and noisier, and the noise goes on well past a time which would (or should) be considered acceptable.
Well I am going to get somewhere much quieter at the end of all this. It will be lovely to be able to sit down in peace either thinking, or watching a film without having to keep pausing it. I've quite forgotten what that feels like.

Confused

What is happening in the world today? Everything seems to be upside-down. We have wicked callousness in positions of power and importance, telling us that they themselves are really the good ones, and marginalising those people who don't quite fit. We see the structures of co-operation crashing down around us. We see greed glorified and the vulnerable vilified. The countries of the world seem to be ruled by those who do not want peace. There is so much rampant 'lower common denominator', populist, isolationist stuff going on. It really is frightening.

In general

I've been having quite a time of it lately. My autism is not always apparent to other people, as I tend to 'wear a mask' in the outside world, with the intention of going about my business quite un-noticed. My mask hides the things I struggle with, from those I come into contact with. Sometimes the mask won't come off, for example when I hide what I'm thinking from those who really ought to know about it. As a result I tend to 'slip through the net' time and time again, when in reality those people and systems that are supposed to be there for me do not spot the telltale signs, owing to the lack of a searching question or two on the part of the service provider. So here I am, still trying to resolve my long-standing, ongoing issues with H.M Government's agencies.
Then on top of that, I have been told that my landlord intends to sell my flat, so I am going to be given my marching orders. Initially that piece of  news came as a devastating blow, but not anymore. My support worker is fucking brilliant. It look like I'm going to get something better at the end of it. I'm going to be really hacked off if the landlord changes his mind.