Today I had to do my usual once a week cycle ride to the doctors. The purpose of this heart pounding ( well half a heart pounding ) excursion is to give a blood sample to test for the safety of one of my medicinal neccessaries.
A wrong dose can cause internal bleeding, which to my mind seems to make sense. Where else should your friggin' blood be but on the inside. Not much use if it springs a leak and you look like a breakdancing claret fountain. Anyway it was bloody cold this morning but the weather man said it would get warmer. Where? In the friggin' Caribbean?
Technically I suppose he was right. Just. It rose from -6°C to -3°C . Problem being, coming back is more downhill thereby adding a wind chill factor of three crates worth of iced lager and a semi intelligent word from the ex who learned her entire vocabulary in the last ice age. About the same time she learned her sexual prowess or lack of too.
My ears, sticking out as they do ( not at 90°, wind breaks they are not. Well not quite ) caught the brunt of the chill but the bike and I survived. Tomorrow I'll have to do a similar distance to go to the stables to watch the Muppet riding her horse. At least she's worth the effort. Gotta love the huge grin she sports while trying to get a 17 hand stallion to do what she wants.
I used to be a bass player with rock and blues bands on podiums all over Europe and East Africa.Now it's time to concede the spotlight to a ten year old girl and become a frozen spectator cheering her on while being ready to stick her straight back on the nag if she falls off.
Only happened twice in the last four and a half years. Hasn't daunted her in the slightest. I'm proud of her and love her to pieces.
Jessica-Marie and Martin 'Beejay' Wells
be together, play together, learn together
Saturday 22 January 2011
Thursday 13 January 2011
Good news for a change
My sister is now out of intensive care. Apparently they'll move her soon to a hospital nearer where she lives. At least this time she'll remember the ride in the ambulance.
My little one will also be happy this weekend. She'll be back on a horse for the first time since before Christmas.
Last saturday she went to a horse show in Antwerp. Spanish Riding School and their very special horses. When I asked her what was the best thing about it she said the costumes. "They were really glittery and sparkly, Daddy."
Bit like a bloke going to a pole dancing club and coming out saying, "wow, you should have seen how shiny the pole was."
Ah, well.
And I'm happy 'cos she'll be with me this weekend.
My little one will also be happy this weekend. She'll be back on a horse for the first time since before Christmas.
Last saturday she went to a horse show in Antwerp. Spanish Riding School and their very special horses. When I asked her what was the best thing about it she said the costumes. "They were really glittery and sparkly, Daddy."
Bit like a bloke going to a pole dancing club and coming out saying, "wow, you should have seen how shiny the pole was."
Ah, well.
And I'm happy 'cos she'll be with me this weekend.
Monday 10 January 2011
How to make the most of not a lot
I woke up at 07.30 this morning with a thought threatening to do serious renovations to parts of my brain I probably wouldn't consider using at that time in the chronological order of the day. Normally the first thought I have when I wake up is to do maximum damage to a cup of coffee and to swallow the first ten pills of the day the cardiologist assures me will do wonders for my longevity, while not doing a great deal for my abililty to attempt arduous and possibly heavy tasks.
Not known for my rash decision making it took me til 10.45 to decide the coffee and pills would be the better option. By this time the original thought had long since ceased to have recieved any thing but a cursory appraisal. Of course the one or two moments of slipping back into a semi state of Zzzz bashing may well have helped in the temporary misplacement of the aforementioned thought, not that I actually aforementioned the content of the thought. Only that I had one.
Anyway, after chucking some java and hot water in a mug and troffing the medications I checked a site I'm a member of. (there is life after Litopia) There was a debate going on about the use of the word 'nigger' and whether it should be edited out of books. Seems strange when my experience shows that 'niggers' use the word 'nigger' more than white people.
Maybe there's a case to ban the use of words like 'honky', 'white trash', 'dago', 'greaser', spick', 'wop', 'limey', 'pomme', 'abbo', 'kraut', 'frog or kermit', and 'rag head', to name a few derogatory terms for people most folks don't take the trouble to learn about. And we're supposed to be civilised. Yeah right.
Somewhere there's an amoeba thinking ,"shit we were more sensible when we only had one cell."
Nobody ever told Picasso " best get rid of the red in that picture, it might get you accused of being a communist." So why take the colour out of our language?
Diversity of insult is what makes life more interesting. That and being able to take an insult without breaking out the AK 47's and killing kids who can't think or run so fast.And it's the kids who suffer most. Not the troops who signed a piece of paper, put on a uniform and knew exactly what they were getting into. Truck drivers and motorists get killed, police and other emergency service personel get killed and an nobody bats a friggin' eyelid, but if one of 'our brave boys' gets wasted, it's all hue and cry. They didn't have to buy a ticket to Iraq or Afghanistan. There is no glory in war. Just blood, snot, stink and mix and match body parts.
Not known for my rash decision making it took me til 10.45 to decide the coffee and pills would be the better option. By this time the original thought had long since ceased to have recieved any thing but a cursory appraisal. Of course the one or two moments of slipping back into a semi state of Zzzz bashing may well have helped in the temporary misplacement of the aforementioned thought, not that I actually aforementioned the content of the thought. Only that I had one.
Anyway, after chucking some java and hot water in a mug and troffing the medications I checked a site I'm a member of. (there is life after Litopia) There was a debate going on about the use of the word 'nigger' and whether it should be edited out of books. Seems strange when my experience shows that 'niggers' use the word 'nigger' more than white people.
Maybe there's a case to ban the use of words like 'honky', 'white trash', 'dago', 'greaser', spick', 'wop', 'limey', 'pomme', 'abbo', 'kraut', 'frog or kermit', and 'rag head', to name a few derogatory terms for people most folks don't take the trouble to learn about. And we're supposed to be civilised. Yeah right.
Somewhere there's an amoeba thinking ,"shit we were more sensible when we only had one cell."
Nobody ever told Picasso " best get rid of the red in that picture, it might get you accused of being a communist." So why take the colour out of our language?
Diversity of insult is what makes life more interesting. That and being able to take an insult without breaking out the AK 47's and killing kids who can't think or run so fast.And it's the kids who suffer most. Not the troops who signed a piece of paper, put on a uniform and knew exactly what they were getting into. Truck drivers and motorists get killed, police and other emergency service personel get killed and an nobody bats a friggin' eyelid, but if one of 'our brave boys' gets wasted, it's all hue and cry. They didn't have to buy a ticket to Iraq or Afghanistan. There is no glory in war. Just blood, snot, stink and mix and match body parts.
Saturday 1 January 2011
Happy New Year?
Yeah right. Not if Merry Christmas was anything of a benchmark.
The week before Christmas, my mother, and four of the younger members of the family managed a 2000 mile round trip to Spain to visit my sister in hospital. How they managed to get a flight while hundreds of miserable would be travellers were sleeping on airport floors will remain a mystery.
Here in Belgium, on Christmas Eve, we couldn't even get my little Muppet ten miles from her mother's place to mine. No buses, no trains, no taxis and not a friendly Eskimo with a snowmobile any where in sight. Finally got her to my place on Monday morning 27th and she had to go back on the Wednesday afternoon.
We did have one special moment though. While taking a walk in the snow covered countryside outside the town, a male Hen Harrier flew directly over our heads. Twenty feet above us. A beautiful hawk. White underside with black wing tips. First time I've ever seen one in the wild. Jessica-Marie's reaction to my enthusing about this event?
"It's just a bird, Daddy."
Anyway. Apparently my sister is recovering slowly. Can't be too bad now. She's fit enough to complain about the hospital food. Makes me wonder if the chef from the hospital where I lost 10kgs in 2009 has emigrated to Granada.
Well, I digress. This was supposed to be about Happy New Year but 2011 has begun where 2010 left off. I'm on my own, it's nearly lunch time and no one has called. Maybe I'll call the hospital in Granada and check on my sister. Perhaps I'll get a good paella recipe at the same time. Oh no, wait up. Almost forgot. Hospital paella?
Still, let's hope 2011 brings a bit of luck to everyone who needs it.
Happy New Year to one and all.
The week before Christmas, my mother, and four of the younger members of the family managed a 2000 mile round trip to Spain to visit my sister in hospital. How they managed to get a flight while hundreds of miserable would be travellers were sleeping on airport floors will remain a mystery.
Here in Belgium, on Christmas Eve, we couldn't even get my little Muppet ten miles from her mother's place to mine. No buses, no trains, no taxis and not a friendly Eskimo with a snowmobile any where in sight. Finally got her to my place on Monday morning 27th and she had to go back on the Wednesday afternoon.
We did have one special moment though. While taking a walk in the snow covered countryside outside the town, a male Hen Harrier flew directly over our heads. Twenty feet above us. A beautiful hawk. White underside with black wing tips. First time I've ever seen one in the wild. Jessica-Marie's reaction to my enthusing about this event?
"It's just a bird, Daddy."
Anyway. Apparently my sister is recovering slowly. Can't be too bad now. She's fit enough to complain about the hospital food. Makes me wonder if the chef from the hospital where I lost 10kgs in 2009 has emigrated to Granada.
Well, I digress. This was supposed to be about Happy New Year but 2011 has begun where 2010 left off. I'm on my own, it's nearly lunch time and no one has called. Maybe I'll call the hospital in Granada and check on my sister. Perhaps I'll get a good paella recipe at the same time. Oh no, wait up. Almost forgot. Hospital paella?
Still, let's hope 2011 brings a bit of luck to everyone who needs it.
Happy New Year to one and all.
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