Just another day

Sunday. One precious day off in the weekend. So how come I am too tired to enjoy it? Apart from my laundry and cooking lunch, Sunday was a non-event. I vegged out completely - let the day flow past and did almost nothing. Yet I do not feel rested!

Which means that come this morning (Monday) I am facing another week and am not feeling recharged enough to enter it. it is funny, but when I worked in an office, I never really appreciated the weekends. Now I am in retail, they are precious. Yes, part of the last weekend was my own fault for swapping so someone could go away. As a result of that, I have 2 1-day weekends. And this week, I will be in on Tuesday (when I should be off) and off on Friday (when I should be in).
I am not sure if I am coming or going any more - am I on my head or on my heels? Answers on a postcard please!

Oh well - I owe, I owe, so off to work I go.

Hanging on in there...

Ok, so part of it is my fault. I will insist on agreeing to help when I am asked to. I guess it is just something in me - whn your manager asks, you agree. I am trying to do what i can to ease the pressure on me. But I still need to learn top say no.

This can really be traced back to one of my colleagues, whom I will call T, came and asked if anyone could swap a Saturday so that she could go away for the weekend. I didn't mind too much so I said I would swap with her. That was ok, as I got Monday off. When I came back on Tuesday, the new section manager (the smart money still says a month) asked if I could start early on Wednesday, which I said was not a problem, even though it meant working through to 6. I left the house at 6:50 Wednesday morning and walked through the door at 6:50 in the evening! Then it was Thursday too, though I did manage to negotiate an hour earlier finish in return for the hour earlier start. And Friday and Saturday I am starting at 8 - so I am not seeing much daylight at either end of the day.

Wednesday - that was a beast of a day. Apart from the long hours, it was a day of a thousand little pinpricks. There was no one thing I can point to and say 'yes, that was what made it such a bad day'. But like the straw that broke the camel's back, by the end of the day I was ready to snap at almost anyone or anything. It was a day of just hanging in there and trying to make it through to the evening in one piece. By the time I got home, i was too tired to eat. And since then, well, it is just a case of keeping going. My resilliance has gone and I am worn out. Only 2 days to go though - what fun!

And just a silly thing. On Tuesday morning, as I was walking to the bus, there was a beautiful sky. I went to photograph it but found I had forgotten my phone! I wish I had - it will be the last sunrise I see this week.

One hour

One hour makes such a difference. I do not know why the clocks going back should make such a difference, but it does. If someone can explain this phenomenon, I would love to hear the explanation. Let me expand...

I set my watch and alarm clock back before I go to sleep on Saturday night. I then try to sleep the same hours I would normally, even sometimes staying up a bit later. I wake at the normal time, and yet feel much more rested than I do normally. Is that peculiar or what?

Oh well - at elast it is a beautiful morning and I have my laundry on. We have had some mixed weather, but it is nice to see a bright sunny morning. The weather does lift you. I am convinced I am a SAD person (yes I am sure you all think I am!) Seriously, I am sure I suffer from SAD - and so in the winter when I am going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark, I get down and quiet and withdrawn. So, this blog may become sparse and inward looking. But that is me - what more can I offer you?

Ever feel like this?

The Old Sailor

There was once an old sailor my grandfather knew
Who had so many things which he wanted to do
That, whenever he thought it was time to begin,
He couldn't because of the state he was in.

He was shipwrecked, and lived on a island for weeks,
And he wanted a hat, and he wanted some breeks;
And he wanted some nets, or a line and some hooks
For the turtles and things which you read of in books.

And, thinking of this, he remembered a thing
Which he wanted (for water) and that was a spring;
And he thought that to talk to he'd look for, and keep
(If he found it) a goat, or some chickens and sheep.

Then, because of the weather, he wanted a hut
With a door (to come in by) which opened and shut
(With a jerk, which was useful if snakes were about),
And a very strong lock to keep savages out.

He began on the fish-hooks, and when he'd begun
He decided he couldn't because of the sun.
So he knew what he ought to begin with, and that
Was to find, or to make, a large sun-stopping hat.

He was making the hat with some leaves from a tree,
When he thought, "I'm as hot as a body can be,
And I've nothing to take for my terrible thirst;
So I'll look for a spring, and I'll look for it first."

Then he thought as he started, "Oh, dear and oh, dear!
I'll be lonely tomorrow with nobody here!"
So he made in his note-book a couple of notes:
"I must first find some chickens" and "No, I mean goats."

He had just seen a goat (which he knew by the shape)
When he thought, "But I must have boat for escape.
But a boat means a sail, which means needles and thread;
So I'd better sit down and make needles instead."

He began on a needle, but thought as he worked,
That, if this was an island where savages lurked,
Sitting safe in his hut he'd have nothing to fear,
Whereas now they might suddenly breathe in his ear!

So he thought of his hut ... and he thought of his boat,
And his hat and his breeks, and his chickens and goat,
And the hooks (for his food) and the spring (for his thirst) ...
But he never could think which he ought to do first.

And so in the end he did nothing at all,
But basked on the shingle wrapped up in a shawl.
And I think it was dreadful the way he behaved -
He did nothing but bask until he was saved!

A A Milne

Cloths of Heaven

He wishes for the cloths of heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

W B Yeats

Beer

What is it about beer? It makes you drunk and wrecks the following day. And yet, I find myself in the pub each Saturday drinking the stuff.

Well a lot of it is explicable. A survey of pub-going men found that drinking was quite a long way down the list of reasons that men go to the pub. The main reason was to socialize. I guess it is because it is still (mainly) a male dominated environment, where men can meet and relax. I know that the Whitehouse (my local) is somewhere I go to relax and enjoy myself. I do enjoy the beer, and sometimes I like a beer on my own. However, I generally find that if I am drinking alone, I will have a couple and then leave. When I am down on a Saturday night, I tend to stay longer and drink more, though I really will ahve to cut back a bit.

I do enjoy trying the guest beers at the Whitehouse. Last night, I was drinking one from Bolton. To many people, beer is beer. However, for lovers of real ale (such as myself), there is a lot of variety in beer. This one was light and didn't taste too strong. Another, such as the Spitting Feathers Old Wavertonian is a dark malty porter, and idea for a winter night (so why did the Creek have it on in the summer? I must find out) I like to try them all - some are one offs and some are regular beers. I like my variety.

Cooildarry

Cooildarry is a nature reserve just a few miles from here. The lower part of the glen is a campsite, but the upper part is almost unknown. I think in all the times I have been there, I have only ever twice seen anyone else there. It seems virtually unknown, and not being a national glen, it is much wilder and less 'sanitized' (though the national glens can be pretty wild!)

Have you noticed that there are certain places that call to you? Well Cooildarry is a place that calls to me. I found out about it a few years ago, and went up there with my daughter. I intended to walk it right through, but we spent the whole time sitting on the stones in the middle of the river and just enjoying the place. Surely that says something about the place?

Anyway, on Sunday afternoon (after a somewhat over-indulgent night at the Whitehouse), I decided to go for a walk. I did not know where to go, but decided to go to Cooildarry for the peace. And I was right! It was so peaceful. Even the noise of cars on the TT course only served to emphasize the peace and quiet that was there. And it was deserted. Most of the time, the only sounds were of the river, the birds singing and the wind in the trees. I spent a lot of time by the river, just listening to it. I walked right through the glen, even climbing on a path I had not followed before which led me up to the top of the glen. The pictures were taken on Sunday, but they do not express the sense of peace.