15 th july

15/07/2007
06:33 Beautiful morning, sunny, lightly hazed sky.
Had an early night last night and almost immediately went into a war themed dream.
Scenes from war torn communities provided the backdrop for numerous scenarios, the ending of each one causing me to wake up momentarily then continue along the same theme.
I was dreaming right up to the moment I woke up this morning, the last dream being me wandering around an old ruined property, exploring, until I tried to open the shutters on a window high up on a narrow ledge.
A party of schoolboys stopped and looked up, saw me and began to chant that they would not allow me to gaze upon the window which was in fact the mirror of the soul of the building.
I was stuck with no way of getting down, I then woke up.

I had called into a pub on the way home and mother and I had a drink.
The bottle of beer had smelt yeasty but I didn’t complain and drank it.
I dropped her off at home and called into my local club to have another bottle and watch the bowls match in as much as I was sat outside and therefore able to smoke.
The beer was perfect, no smell of yeast, tasted lovely.
Got home and I was poorly, vomited up the contents of my stomach had a bit to eat and went to bed feeling mush better for the upchuck.

I am wondering if I may be affected by yeast?
I am certainly not going to waste anymore time drinking the dog if that is going to be the result.
This is not a one off incident, anyone who drinks Newcastle brown will tell you, if you get a bad bottle there is hell to pay and these last few years has seen a rise in the number of so called bad batches.

There is a possibility of some gear arriving this weekend, I intend to purchase some and forget about drinking altogether.
The only topic of conversation last night was the smoking ban, price of property in the area and bloody kids. The only two females in the company were married and the only alternative entertainment was to watch bowls.
Hardly an action packed Saturday night.

I don’t recall when my body began rejecting beer, must have been a few years ago. I used to drink almost everyday, never had any ill effects and then I was forced to drink less and less until I reached a limit of three pints, any more and I would have to vomit.
I obviously cannot see any sense in paying good money and then throwing up so will not miss drinking.

I realise smoking cannabis will mean buying baccy unless I smoke it under glass.
I do know that if I smoke it with baccy I will be able to resist having a normal one in between joints and that fact alone will eventually help me to cut down.
Am a little worried in case the Zyban interferes with the stone, but will not know until I have a tester which should be tonight.

I was bringing the old lady home last night and chose to use a single lane road which skirts the moors.
We have travelled that road thousands of times in the past.
“I lived there” she said,
Where/ I asked.
She went on to tell me her father had a farm yon side of Stockton. During the war years they built an aerodrome near it and disguised it as farm buildings.
Apparently if it had been bombed there was a chance of the river tees’ banks being damaged and therefore the farmland would have been flooded to they had moved to an isolated farm on the moor top.
Her father had been under a lot of pressure trying to run the farm on his own during the bad winter of 47 so they had moved to another farm a short distance away.
One which I have faint memories of myself, playing there as a child.