22 nd.January.

22/01/2007
Woke up this morning at 9. 30 , reset alarm to 10.30 and got up then.
Had a wash and got ready for my appointment at the health centre;
a health assessment.
Height, weight, blood samples and blood pressure taken.
Weight wise I’ve put on two stone since my release from hospital last year, am now 15 stone 9 pounds which is a stone overweight for my height.
My blood pressure was 110 over 70 which is apparently acceptable.
I left, promising to return with a urine sample at a later date.
Went to shop and bought a half ounce.
I had about 6 rollies all day yesterday , probably a cause of good pressure results?
Today I bought the baccy and thought about going for a pint but decided to return home.
I didn’t know whether to go back to bed for the duration or stop up, have decided to have a smoke and a drink, do a little course work and maybe go to bed a for a couple of hours later.
I’m shocked at the amount of weight I’ve put on, especially when I’ve cut my intake down quite dramatically.
Possibly the irregularity of food intake has caused the body to react by storing extra fat.
Or more likely it’s a side effect of the meds I was put on after release from the hospital; the leaflet did warn about significant weight gain! Plus, I’ve had no exercise, at all.
One thing which is obvious is the lack of exercise hasn’t helped.
I have to return to a weight around the fourteen stone mark, losing that much will indeed take effort.
I was pleased with the blood pressure result and that alone may be enough to help me improve upon the other aspects of my life.
I have bought baccy and am immediately desperate to smoke it and get the pouch finished.

Why should I feel so guilty about choosing to waste the day smoking and drinking?
After all millions of other people choose to do the same, day after day.
I intend to enjoy the day and smoke and drink as much as body will tolerate.
Rollies are no longer the thin affairs of yester years, I now roll fat cigarette size rollies in an effort to empty the packet.
I did feel better last night when I went to bed, breathing was easier and quieter and I got to sleep quite quickly.
I’ve wrung out a couple of jumpers which have been soaking in the bath for two days so my chores for the day are finished.
My ex partner of 20+ years phoned the other night.
We exchanged pleasantries and she enquired about my health, I told her of the trip to the dentist and the removal of tooth and abscesses.
She had been admitted to hospital last July for suspected bowel cancer.

The surgeon had removed six abscesses from her bowel and poor bugger had to spend six months in hospital, being released a couple of days prior to Xmas.
She now has to wear a bag to collect her shit for the rest of her life.
I immediately felt sympathy for her,
I know not if I could cope with something like that, luckily she has a member of the family who is trained as a care nurse so she has someone to look after her.
After she rang off I considered what life would have been like if we were still together, could I have been able to look after her, I doubt it!
Maybe but I think not.
Just goes to show you never know what’s around the corner.
She had been a big woman when I first met her and she succeeded in losing weight gradually over the time we were together, apparently she had gone down to six stone when she was diagnosed and only now has reached eight stone.
She also told me of someone else dying; to be honest it was someone who has done nothing but cause trouble and problems all her life so we agreed her death wouldn’t be a great loss. Rotten thing to say but non the less true.
I don’t like conversations which are mainly about illness and death but as I grow older theses types of conversations become more prevalent.
Having cheated death several times in the past I am now realising that my future is in my own hands and if I want to survive I will have to stop thinking about the solutions and start to put them into practise.

I realise I am getting to the end of my time to implement life changes,
I had decided my birthday, feb.4 would see me having implemented the changes needed to improve my life and present situation,
I have only a couple of weeks left!
I opened the window to get rid of the smoke but soon after the sun disappeared and I was forced to half close it, the room chilled down quickly despite the fire being on.
Today is supposed to be the beginning of a cold spell which should last the week.
So far this winter this area has been spared any really cold weather and despite having had a lot of rain we have been untouched so far.
I remember as a kid having to clear four, five foot snow drifts away from the back door to gain access to the back street and garden.
The front of the terrace had a communal path and it was part of my job to clear the whole of the path to allow the residents access to the road.
We as children often cleared pavements outside older residents homes and never thought about refusing such duties.
The snow outside the garage had to be cleared and we often combined our duties with fun, piling huge amounts of snow in which we would play.
In those days streets were filled with snow and because most of the streets were on an incline they became popular sledging runs.
I remember being told stories and later seeing photographs of roads in our area being completely blocked, only the tops of telegraph poles to be seen above the snow.
Our village was often cut off and fears that the coalman wouldn’t be able to deliver caused concern.
Many residents, like us used to stockpile coal during the early months and often our backyard was taken up with reserves of same.
Winter months were always cold, walking to the local infant school was a struggle through feet of snow;
snow was expected.
I cannot remember a severe winter since my childhood days; all we get now is at worst a few days of slush.
My grandfather would struggle twice daily through the snow up to his smallholding to feed the pigs and livestock,
I of course had to feed the chickens and rabbits in our garden, also having to dig into the rock solid earth for vegetables for the dinner table.
During my early years the winter seemed to come on and remain for a couple of months, fresh falls of snow would keep us locked into its grip.
My Father would have the daily challenge of braving the conditions to travel to work some ten mile away.
Roads were not treated so well in those days, often remaining impassable for days.

Living near the coast with its protection in the form of salt atmosphere has spared me from all but the worst of snow showers, yet only five miles away the snow lays upon the moorland regions where the only form of useable transport was the tractor.
Many a darts match has been halted till the team arrived clinging to all available space on a local’s tractor!
The beauty of the area of my childhood has been shown to millions by programs such as Heartbeat but I still love to travel around the area, warm and comfortable in the car, seeing the countryside blanketed in snow.
The remoteness of the area is highlighted when under such conditions.
It’s also a dangerous place to be and many visitors have met their death by travelling its roads during winter.
I remember one day when in Redcar we had no more than perhaps an inch or two of snow,
I drove five miles to the main moor road and came across a nasty accident, the axle of a wagon had ploughed into a car trapping the driver by the legs, almost severing one.
Being the first on the scene I took the passenger into my car and returned to comfort the driver who was going in and out of consciousness.
Eventually the police and ambulance arrived and took over.
I was thanked for my help and told to return to my car and leave the scene.
Just before I left someone pulled up and began taking photographs, ( he intended to sell them to the local paper!), I came close to hitting him and only the intervention of a police officer stopped me.
Two minutes up the road and there was another car off the road.
I took the driver and passenger back to Lingdale, where I presumed he would secure help to rescue his vehicle.
The driver was a townie who had decided he would give his son some experience of winter driving before he sat his driving test the following day!
You meet all sorts.!
I would probably think twice before venturing out on what was basically a sight seeing trip, not wanting to be a possible burden to the overstretched rescue services.
Winter seems to be destined to becoming a mere memory; climate change or whatever reason has taken away the chance to see huge areas blanketed in snow.

I laugh when I see the once popular skiing resorts of the rich and famous devoid of any covering.
Being a keen gardener for most of my life, I realised the change in the seasons.
The infestations of insects and garden pests which followed the mild winter months showed all but the blind that something was changing.
Frosts can no longer be relied upon to temper such crops as turnips etc.
Double digging and leaving upturned sods to the extremities of temperature no longer guarantees deliverance from dormant pests.
Planting and harvest times can no longer be gauged with any degree of accuracy.
Hell, I still have two heads of lobelia in bloom outside my front door!
Winter as my parents and myself knew it has all but disappeared.
How many times I remember people saying
“Xmas isn’t xmas without a little snow”
In my childhood the streets of the village were full of kids on Bogeys during the spring and full of kids with sledges during the winter; now its hard work getting along those same streets because of the cars parked on either side.
Because of the increasing need to travel to work or use the out of village supermarkets everyone who can afford one has a car, and every owner wants their vehicle parked outside their abode.
Villages, once pleasing to the eye are now lined with vehicles to assist escape.
In the old days the snow plough would eventually get round to servicing the by roads and thus some routes were kept open;
I hate to thing how a snow plough driver could perform the same task with the amount of cars parked on the roads.
Thus we rely upon local councils providing salt cover.
Having worked at a local potash mine for a while and used a car as transport I am only too aware of the damage done by contact of car and salt!
I think back to my father having to clear away the snow to get the car out of the garage for front shift, dicing with death on the icy roads for at least five mile till he reached the safety of the treated town roads., working his shift not knowing what the conditions will be like for his return home.
Remember waiting at cold bus stop for arrival of bus to take me the five miles to the local grammar school.
Village streets shining in the sun, treacherous runs of pure ice, perfect for youngsters on sledges yet perilous to older people trying to walk.
I laugh when I read about the schools banning snowballing if they have been lucky enough to get a covering of snow.
Do I miss winter?
Of course not!
I’m old enough now to worry about possible broken bones and do not fancy spending time in hospital for any such injuries which could have serious complications for later life.
Winter nowadays means no more than a crispness in the air and possible light frosting on the ground, and that suits me.
I remember one night when playing in the group we had to put snow chains on the Sherpa van and battle out way towards Newcastle, arriving late in a town which was totally snow free and trying to explain the hazards we had come through, no sympathy was given and we were seen as liars!
Perhaps this year the moors will get a dusting of snow; if so I will venture out and take some photos, just to remind me.

Three litres of 7.5 strength cider for £2.78, a poor calculation that would equate to less than 50 pence per pint; its slowly doing its job.
I remember when cider was first introduced into the drinker’s menu a couple of decades ago.
First there were the lagers which were stronger than the usual brews, some markedly so, then in the summer cider was introduced, sweet, dry, medium.
Cider wasn’t marketed as severely as other drinks and never took a hold, unlike the onslaught of foreign lagers!
Cider in my hay day of drinking was something bought from the off license for the women to drink.
Some ciders were marketed for their apparent strength but never challenged the traditional beer menu.
My local club now sells cider at well over £2.00 per pint, some of the pubs have increased the price to extortionate levels.
The off license sells over strength cider cheaply and it remains in the sight of most people as the preferred drink of youngsters and “ cider billies”, chosen drink of winos and alcoholics.
I quite like the sharpness of taste and enjoy the fact that it is twice the alcohol level of most brews and therefore one doesn’t have to drink vast amounts to get a result.
I must admit it makes me piss a lot and therefore hopefully is cleaning me out.
If I drink sufficient quantity I usually get a good sleep albeit with a troubled stomach.
I look at it this way, for a days smoking and drinking the total cost is about £3.00, cannot grumble at that.

I go for a piss and make a mental note that perhaps in future I should wash my hands before removing my contact lenses after having urinated.

I’m now on my third tankard of cider and eighth rollie.
A waste of a day perhaps?
But I had decided when I got up that today would be a day of drinking and smoking and that is exactly what I’ve done.
The only time previously in my drinking life when I drank anything as strong as this,
( forgetting home brews), was when I decided to have a night on the Barley wine; an experiment I have never repeated since!
I drink, at times cheap vodka and half decent Whisky but price wise there is nothing to compare to over strength cider.
There was a time when I brewed my own vodka and whisky, even dabbled with home made scrumpy and got drunk on all three.
I now am seemibly unable to get any effect from ale and spirits and therefore cider is the only alternative.
I don’t have to drink vast amounts and my stomach soon tells me when enough is enough.
I’m fifty now and have spent at least twenty years drinking seriously yet am unable now to get any get effect from it.
I pause to turn the fire down, the heat is getting too much.

I remember the bed sits and flats I used to live in, and council accommodation; window frames stuffed with paper and material to keep the draughts out.
Beer towels on the sills to catch the condensation, mould growing everywhere it could take a hold, slime and grime on the glass.
I sit now with the advantages of double glazing.

Modernisation has been thrust upon my generation in much the same way as it was marketed to my parents, and we both have benefited.

Our old house with its outside coal house and toilet, front room and sitting room, firstly had the benefits of a down stairs bathroom, later the living rooms were combined and then finally it was modernised to an acceptable standard and the back end was flattened to provide a garage.
I have had about twenty different residences and each one has provided an abode for three or four years. Some moves were for the better, many turned out to be disasters.
I’ve had bed sits, flats, cottages, houses, bungalows, semi-detached homes and finally reverted back to single persons accommodation- a flat.
Each place has been chosen for its merits, often the choice was merely borne out of necessity, the area I found myself to be living was prone to vandalism and yob behaviour and therefore a move, any move was necessary.
Over the last year I’ve lived a simple and unbothered life; there are very few reasons to complain so therefore the place is right for the time being.
I’ve been lucky, there are a lot of people who still live in fear of their surroundings.
I have no fear and few complaints and so are therefore happy.
Access to schools and services, amenities is all so important now that people will take on ridiculous mortgage commitments to find a suitable position;
I have found a suitable place thanks to the local housing department; for once they got it right.
My home/flat could be a little palace but I have no intention of spending money to make it something different from the rest.
I am no different from anyone else; I only need the basics and have them all.

My parents have altered their house and finally have something in which they feel happy and therefore do not feel the need to modernise any further, their décor and furnishings will probably remain the same till they die; they have no thoughts of selling or keeping up with market trends, they must be content.
I’ve lost count of the homes I’ve acquired with the thought that this would be my final place, throwing myself into creating a living space only to become disillusioned with the surrounding area and often as not the nearby residents.
I should have realised earlier when living in Holland that all one needs is a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living space.
The more compact the space is the less maintenance is needed, as long as there is sufficient space to live one’s desired life at the time then all is well.
Living in bed sit land allows one to manage the space and whatever happens after that phase becomes a bonus.
Huge houses, huge utility bills, mortgages, running repair bills all detract from the enjoyment of existence.
The only thing which causes me trouble is the thought that if something happens to me then it will be a week or so before I’m discovered, but hell, I’ll be dead anyway so why worry?

The sky is dark and full of cloud, the last few rays of the sun have cast a bronze glow upon the facing houses and given a pleasant tint to the sky,
I suspect the night will bring rain and further wind; no problems to me.
I now feel settled in as much as I have no reason to want to move,
true the place is small but apart from that is has little or no drawbacks.
I am warm, safe, secluded, free from hassle, have everything I need locally.
My car is safe, so far and I haven’t had any cause for concern from any of my neighbours.
I can afford to keep the place reasonably warm and have no repair bills.
What more could I ask?
My life revolves around my bed and reclining chair, there is I presume a night life if I ventured out and I am within easy reach of my parents and the moors. Suits me!

I am thinking about a fish tea and am tempted to drive to local chippie for fish cake and chips. May give it a go.
Treated myself to a pattie, fish cake and chips; had a word with assistant about volume of chips being too much, she agreed and said a lot of people had voiced same and the owner was thinking of selling a “half” bag, I replied I didn’t like wasting food but inevitably half the chips would go to waste.
Smoked half an ounce in ten hours, drank about two litres of cider; got to about ten o’clock and was bored with TV so decided to have an early night.
Went to bed and despite having eaten the baccy my breathing wasn’t too bed, had a good sleep till woke up in the early hours.
I went into front room to close window and saw the covering of white outside.
I decided to stay in bed for as long as possible, was a cold night.