Misery Meals Down The Pub

I have had a bout of the poor mes. Where is my life going? What is the point? Nobody loves me, everybody hates me. Lots of introspective clap trap which just lurked up on my over the weekend. I know its a waste of time. I know it makes me an ugly thinker. But sometimes you can't help it. In an effort to alleviate this it seemed that a meal at the pub was in order. We had a lovely time, me and my son, listening to the very small loop of music on the CD to the point where we didn't care that Tom Petty was Free falling again. The food was ok. My son bought us pudding. It lifted my mood to be chatting to my son, joking and putting the world to rights. Was it worth the money though? If I had resisted I'd have to be paying £30.00 into the charity pot. It seems like a lot to donate to charity not so much when I handed over my card at the end of the meal. Not quite sure what all this means but just thought it important to blog it.

A Guilt Free Weekend

I decided that this weekend would be guilt free. I would eat as I please. Crisps with a film, cake after tea, kebab for the take away, beer and cheap cider. I find however that I'm not as good at it as I used to be. I don't enjoy it so much. Its the difference I feel in my stomach I think. Normally it is pretty well behaved but as I pile in the junk food it gets to feeling bloated and grumbly. I don't so much like the taste left in my mouth as I used to. Msg doesn't taste as yummy as it used to, sugar rush isn't quite as good. It doesn't leave me craving more, just wanting to go upstairs and brush my teeth. I suppose all this is a good sign. A sign that my diet has changed and I have somehow educated those tiny buds which litter my mouth.
Taking my son and his chum out for a bike ride to the lake turned out to be the most indulgent bit of the weekend.

Activity Log

Activity Log for the past few months just uploaded to the starvation diet section of my web site. Its an effort to make sure that I don't just sit in avoiding food and getting no exercise. Apologies for those of us of an aesthetic persuasion, the web page and sheet itself is pretty ugly in the style of fluffy diet type literature.

http://www.bethbarlow.com/completed_pages/starvation_diet.html

Navel gazing whilst the world is going to hell in a hand cart

When I was much younger, so much younger than today (bet you will be singing the song all day now) I worked for a very brief spell as a care assistant in elderly people's homes. I went to see one chap who was still all there but who couldn't command his body enough to do basic things like getting ready for bed. We had a chat which has stayed with me all my life. It was about art. He told me that he didn't think women could be good artists because we are too introspective. I don't agree with his generalization but it has given me lots of food for thought. I was reminded of that conversation this morning during one of my thoughts for the day (yes sometimes I have several). I've encountered several groups of late who are interested in self reflection, inner growth, stepping away from society at large. I started to wonder if these folks are spending too much time in this inner journey to consider the practical facts that the world and people in it need our help. Can this penchant for inner growth simply be another reflection of the cult of the individual which I think is a major contributing factor to some of our ills. Got that off my chest now, can go back to filling in the backlog of starvation diet log sheets.

To lobby or not to lobby?

Friends of the earth Campaign to lobby government and make changes to food feed policy. I recently heard a women speak at a conference and her point of view was that personal actions are negligible and spending our energy on lobbying was the way forward. I think its not an either or thing and there should just about be time for both.

16 miles, singin' in public, so proud

Cycled up to Kelsal Via Delemere. There are some monster hills up that way. The photo depicts me half way up one such hill. Always a believer in having something to cycle to, this time no exception. Chester Folk festival the target. Got there knackered and strangely light noggined and headed to the pub. Felt good to tie up my bike knowing that I'd not just jumped in a car to get there. 2 O clock found me sat in an event called a singaround. I was expecting a nice sing along ensemble type bit but the lady next to me informed me that they go around the room and everybody has a solo sing. Several options: run for door, stage dramatic coughing and spluttering fit when my go came round or wrack my brain for something remotely folk which I wouldn't murder. Feel the fear and do it, stick your mustard to the sticky post (or something like that). I did a passable version of Pete Seeger's, "Sometimes I feel like a motherless Child" (a real party tune). Not too many squeaks or missed notes. Felt brill after. Good to step out of the comfort zone. Felt so good that I decided to cycle all the way back and not cheat and jump on the train at Delemere. Decision may also have been tinted by the big piece of cake I ate at Delemere Station Cafe.



Biggest ride this year and starting to realise that I won't die if I get out of breath.