Three beautiful things in York

Closer, Jon and something I can rely on

2008-08-25T18:26:00.006+01:00

1. I like a song called "Closer" by Ne-Yo. It expresses something of how I feel just now.

2. I talked to my good friend Jon in Canada on MSN today. As always he made me feel that the world is even more beautiful than I had noticed.

3. Change is something I can rely on.

4am, fine 4am's and my sunflower

2008-08-21T19:13:00.008+01:00

1. Four am is the dead of night really and I was awake this morning from then to see the dawn and lick my wounds. My heart was in a vicious mood. Sad and angry and embarrassed with itself. There is also something very special about 4am. It's a private and lonely time. Mostly the immeadiate world is sleeping, even more unaware of what's around them than during their waking dream. This four am I was pacing about thinking, mulling things over and trying to find some equilibrium. I was feeling desperate and then resolved and then uncertain and then strong. Everything began to seem like a dream. I was tired having had a matter of a very few hours sleep and weepy and lonely. It was a pathetic sight I'm sure. By dawn I was calmer, pacified with tiredness.

2. There have been some pretty fine 4am's. I met with a 4am friend to talk about my woes and get some advice. It was good advice. And having a friend who can say anything to you and who can hear anything you have to say without judgement or prejudice is without comparison.

3. My sunflower flower flowered. It seemed to express the optimism I had lost. Its about nine foot tall and the bright yellowness of it shines out in my yard like a beacon of beautiful joy. Every home should have one. I talked some more, and cried some more and then laughed and giggled and felt my feet touch the ground again.

Pouring rain, a smile and the only certain thing is change

2008-08-20T23:30:00.002+01:00

1. Just this moment there seems so little I could find to list as beautiful in me. But that's not what writing this is about, so here is my first beautiful thing: Walking in pouring rain late at night and getting soaked through. I imagine the raindrops are like someone comforting me with the lightest touch when I'm sad. And I'm unusually and unreasonably sad. I am grateful to my friends who continue to be patient with my melancholy and offer their unconditional kindness and love. Thank you.

2. I met the homeless bloke on Stonegate that I came across a couple of weeks ago. He smiled and just about remembered me. I hugged him, he told me his name and he smiled. It was impossible to leave him without regretting my inability to do something to help him through. He generously helped me in a moment of such lowness to carry on and for that I am enormously humbled.

3. A friend who felt he had never been found was able to say that at last he had been. I am happy for him but have to admit to a sadness that something got lost between us as a result. I continue to try to accept that the only certain thing in living is that things will change.

Optimism, the Minster and his reflection

2008-08-19T21:09:00.005+01:00

1. I woke up this morning and could think only of one beautiful thing. But I did feel so very much better than for the last couple of days. I really had lost equilibrium. This morning I began to reclaim the infatuated me. It was a confusing day at work. At times it seemed almost too much, but something of the optimism of my waking thought kept me going.

2. I walked through the city this evening and I struck by the beauty of the Minster. I'm often taken by the magnificence of that building. It is always surprising and inspiring.

3. Being able to tell someone you trust your truth is an incredible experience. Owning whats true is liberating. This evening I was talking to my heart, and he knows me, about the past and the present. He described me as his reflection and I could describe him as mine.

Wobbly, beyond 'Monday sickness' and Brokeback Mountain

2008-08-18T19:11:00.005+01:00

1. A really good friend was on-line this morning when before I went to work and it was wonderful that there was someone who was kind enough to be say hello. I have been feeling wobbly during the last few days.

2. During the day I felt ill. Beyond 'Monday sickness'. I have no energy and my stomach has been turning and churning like a tumble drier.

3. I watched Brokeback Mountain. Again. I cried. Again. It expresses an experience that resonates. And my early morning friend understands...

Love sick, wasting time and what should I do?

2008-08-17T20:02:00.005+01:00

1. The pursuit of three beautiful things has become lost amid a swelling tide of emotions and changes in my life. I cannot help but be honest and report that what is happening in my life is complicated. I have barely been able to eat, I can't sleep and I'm finding it difficult to concentrate. None of this is bad. It's simply different. I'm explaining this because I feel badly that I haven't kept up with this blog. Today I feel sick, perhaps that's fitting. My friend described me as 'love sick' and that's possible.

2. I'm also tired. Tired of wasting time.

3. What should I do? I think I mentioned before that Emma described me as "lost". She was right. So what should I do?

Chiching, golden red and a generous deal

2008-08-13T23:16:00.000+01:00

1, Chiching is an activity most of us indulge in a good deal of the time. It is a description of the voice we have inside that commentates on everything in a continuous and unrelenting manner. I used to think that one day it might stop. Perhaps in a moment of Kensho. Chiching has its own beauty when considered compassionately. Some people think that the achievement of Kensho as a step leading to total enlightenment, satori, by recognising that duality is an illusion and that there is no reality to the dialectic battle between wrong and right, good and evil, black and white that we scaffold and construct so completely. Chiching is my constant companion. I’m very grateful to those who have the patience to listen to my chich with compassion.

2. Golden red.

3. Negotiating a generous deal.

Emma and Laura, my cardoon and the first second

2008-08-12T23:05:00.012+01:00

1. Emma and Laura are two beautiful human beings without whom my life would cease to be exquisitely rich. This picture was taken at Laura's 22nd birthday party on Saturday. There was a lot of Guitar Hero and smoke machine in Portsmouth, not to mention rain. There was a good deal of rain.

2. My cardoon flowered today and it really is beautiful. It looks something like a gentle blue thistle and an artichoke and it has grown to be about seven foot high and has survived my best attempts at neglect. I took this photograph in the rain.

3. The most wonderful thing said to me today described something beyond the beyond about this next moment of my my life and his "It is the first second of the new millennium to me". I cannot wait to walk in the rain together.

Home, snuggly sentiments and no mountain high enough

2008-08-11T22:37:00.003+01:00

1. Getting back to York after what seemed like a long trip to Portsmouth and Oxford made me appreciate home more than ever.

2. I bought The Script album and shared it's snuggly sentiments not quite as secretly as I should have.

3. A conversation made entirely of song titles. "Ain't no mountain high enough...to keep me from you". I could add "ain't no beach long enough..." and so much more.

Shower, something, too

2008-08-06T23:53:00.003+01:00

1. Shower the people you love with love
2. Love is recognising something in another person that you have in you
3. Trees need love too

Homeless, piss x and ready to take off

2008-08-05T22:25:00.013+01:00

1. On my way in to work this morning I was walking down Goodramgate and a man came towards me, on crutches asking for money and saying that he hadn't eaten for two days. Usually. No that's just stupid, there is no usually. Lets say often. Often in the past have ignored this kind of interaction, or slipped an embarrassed pound coin or bought a copy of Big Issue and scurried off with it. But for some reason I stopped and chatted to this bloke. He told me that he was from York originally and that he'd lost his home to a mean landlord and that he'd moved away but now he was back and homeless. He told me he had a partner, a boyfriend and that they were living in a tent but had been attacked during the night and the tent was slashed. He brought out his wallet and showed me a photograph of his boyfriend. He was definitely cute. And I said so. We had a cigarette together. I tried to give him advice about Arc Light and the Homelessness Prevention Team and the Salvation Army...he'd done all those... I found a two pound coin in my ratty bag and he grinned the most beautiful toothless and optimistic grin. He was a charming, lovely man and I wished I'd found something better for him. But most of all I wished I'd hugged him just for a moment, just to say thank you for stopping and talking to me, just to encourage him to keep going and find something better for him and his boy.

2. I had another text message this morning which made me laugh out loud. It read "its amazing how one letter can alter things. Anywhere would be fantastic with you Dave. Piss x". I did almost wet myself. Of course it wasn't really funny to anyone else but me.

3. Being ready to take off at any moment was once a way of life for me. Recently some of the spirit of that adventurous mind set has returned to me. I have been challenged to consider alternatives I thought might never be offered ever again. The toothless man and the funny text message were two of those chances today. I hope the homeless man and his boyfriend find something good and somewhere to sleep and get on with their lives. I wish I had helped him properly but I didn't. The text message was full of wit and happiness and its compliment irrisisitable and flattering. I hope its true, I know that anywhere would be fantastic with you. Tugs oxo.

Allan, out of the blue and green tea ice cream

2008-08-04T21:39:00.016+01:00

1. It was Allan's birthday today. We sat and watched him open his presents and admired his cards and the witty messages. We have been best friends for exactly ten years to the day. I gave him a new stripy shirt and some books and a pair of hideous slippers. The slippers turned out to be a little bit small. It was especially lovely to see him be happy and contented. Without his kindness, generosity and patience I would not have the good fortune to be having the amount of fun I'm having just now. He has encouraged me to look beyond the attachments I have treasured and to let some of them just go and leave me for good.

2. As if this wasn't sufficient I received a couple of text messages which were mind-blowing. The first said "I feel like doing something out of the blue with you" and the second seemed to suggest something so humongous and wonderful that I immediately and without second thought replied "OK".

3. I have spent the day in pretty constant pain. My back, which seems to have a weakness these days when I play too hard, has been having a stress since Saturday's happiness's. This evening we went to supper in town and drank Chinese beers and laughed and talked about Belgium. It was fun and distracted me from the pain. Green tea ice cream at the indochine restaurant was subtle and delicately flavoured and combined perfectly with the fabulously gaudy deep fried toffied bananas. The pain subsided a bit and Allan had his birthday tea and all was well in the world.

Chocolate Hotel, 360 degrees and cranachan

2008-08-03T22:57:00.001+01:00

1. It seemed to take all morning for me to get ready to go out for a stroll around town with Emma. Eventually I got myself together and despite an outrageously sore back we wandered about, arm in arm, giggling and searching for birthday presents for Allan. We went to Chocolate Hotel on Coney Street. It is a chain of course but for a chocoholic it would be heaven. As we went in we were offered the most wonderful Turkish Delight I can remember eating. I'm not really that keen usually. I'm still recovering from a childhood of Fry's offering which was grim red stuff covered in indifferent chocolate. This stuff was very delicate. The store is filled with a pretty impressive selection of chocolate and Emma found the gift she was looking for with very little trouble.

2. Staying with the shopping theme, I like this website York 360 which is series of visitor pages with some reasonable recommendations and great panoramic photographs of the city. It's a beautifully produced site that is definitely worth consulting.

3. Emma made a fabulous sweet for after our supper this evening. Cranachan with fresh raspberries inspired by a recipe in Jason Atherton's book Maze. It is a traditional Scottish pudding which I first had somewhere near Stoor on the northwest coast of Scotland. Emma used what remained of some Baileys instead of malt whisky and it was a pretty good substitution.

Sally Oldfield, Fairburn Ings and Bridget Jone's Diary

2008-08-02T23:17:00.010+01:00

1. My friend picked me up this morning from the station and the first song playing on his stereo sounded very familiar. It was Sally Oldfield singing a song from her first album "Water Bearer". I don't quite remember the track probably Mirrors. It was a bit of a magical moment of when the record first came out and today the song he played was a beautiful introduction to an outstanding visit with an exceptional human being.

2. After an intense morning locked in an intimate inter locution we went for a walk around the RSPB Fairburn Ings nature reserve. We strolled, literally around the whole park, which is a recovered coal mine site. It has large ponds and open reserve areas with an incredible flora of common wildflowers and lots of birds and their twitcher fans. The weather was glorious and blue and sunny. It was a carefree few hours of lovely company and happy scenery. I felt blissfully happy and calm.When we got to the village of Fairburn my ingenious interlocutor took me to a little art emporium The Wild Goose Gallery. The bloke in there was very keen and friendly. We looked around making considerate comments about the paintings and objects. It was very sweet. Not my taste at all but entertaining nevertheless. We completed the circuit by walking along the road me in the lead to protect my woosie friend from oncoming vehicles and singing (not so very well) songs from the shows. It was a fine day spent with a very fine human being. My heart as always beating full and optimistically.

3. Emma and I needed a 'chick flick' this evening probably for very different reasons to get us through those feelings you can't quite talk about but which have to be processed somehow. When my friend returned me home after the lovely experience in Fairburn it was a wrench to say goodbye. It felt as though the day should have continued forever. I was tired and emotional. Emma and I watched the movie "Bridget Jone's Diary" together snuggled up on the couch with supper on plates and laughing and a little bit tearful now and again recognising how very stupid and happy it is to be in love. We must have seen this particular film a few times together, we probably always laugh at the same places and I probably get all gulpy when the Gabrielle song comes up. It was the predictably and comfortingly the same today, making BJD a definite beautiful thing to be savoured for a variety of unconditional reasons.

Friday, JustGiving and a few pages glued together

2008-08-01T21:15:00.009+01:00

1. Friday is always an exciting prospect. I got up this morning hoping some of the rotten things that have happened over the last few days had been a bad dream. I looked to see if things had changed but they had not. All the usual stuff happened. Bacon sandwiches, discussions about the forthcoming weekend, speculation about Big Brother evictions and discussion about colleagues and work pals. I can trust Fridays to be the last of the week's effort. I have the prospect of some exciting moments for this weekend and especially to see and spend some moments with my good friend, Laughing Man. What was once a kindness now seems like an unkindness. I miss something, made up of that that big empty unreasonable space that I find impossible to fill.

2. Lawrence Lennon is a person who works at City of York Council. This boy is doing a sponsored parachute jump for Marie Curie Cancer Care. I don't very often get drawn to requests for sponsorship from people I don't know. I don't know this lad, but he seems to be brave, and that's inspiration for me. I'd encourage my friends and family to give him support in his adventurous quest. You can donate to his fundraising web page an keep up -to-date with him on line. Go to JustGiving and donate a sum of any value now. His jump is on September 13 at Bridlington. Good luck. Just do it!

3. We all have a few pages glued together. Sometimes I wish that wasn't as true as it turns out it is. My book is full of words but they don't all make sense. I read whole paragraphs which really don't seem to have any sense and lack confidence and fairness. Doesn't seem to be any way to make it better. I wish there was.

Nectarines, The Dark Knight and Hilary's retirement day

2008-07-31T23:27:00.008+01:00

1. Nectarines are lovely. I had one today and the juice inconveniently dribbled down my chin.

2. I went with Emma and my friend Brian to see The Dark Knight at City Screen. Emma had seen it before and enjoyed it the second time, I found it a bit long but thought it was pretty fine and reflected the fear and loathing America seems to have for itself and the rest of the world and Brian hated it which was probably predictable. Emma made the point that it wasn't a conventional Hollywood ending with happiness and resolution. I got confused about who was good and who was bad and that seemed a very sharp observation. Brian just thought it was a bad film. Heath Leger was incredible as The Joker. I know there has been a huge amount of hype since we lost him. It took nothing to ignore that. Laughing Man came to mind, how could the writers have known his character so well?

3. This was Hilary's retirement day from Channel Four. I gave her a call this evening and we chatted about the past and the future. She said she knew I was the only person who would know how she feels. It was possibly a slight exaggeration but I was glad we had an opportunity to connect and remind each other that the only certain thing is change. She was wobbly and sentimental and vulnerable. I think we were able to move past regret and she was acknowledging just how generous the experience had been and as importantly just how much she has been able to contribute to her industry as a result. I reminded her that Hilary must find her 'no'. As she and I both recognise the danger now is that she says 'yes' to everything. I said 'no' to someone in the last few days. I have found it the most painful and lonely thing to do. Almost immediately I tried to take it back, but the statement was made and the throw away "whatever" response given back. Sometimes I'm when I'm feeling lost I find myself asserting that friendship and humanness will win the day whatever happens. It is an optimistic state of thinking because it relies on other people's trusting compassion. Of course people lie, but that doesn't necessarily mean they are worthless. People make mistakes.

The man who can't be moved, a bright sparkle and the spontaneous one

2008-07-30T19:34:00.006+01:00

1. It cannot be wrong to love someone just because you do. This morning I arrived at work and my friend told me that Next Boy was leaving for another job elsewhere. Until that moment I hadn't realised how much I'd grown to love him in the few months he's been with us. He is a nice, funny man with a gorgeous open heart. He arrived all smiling and clean-looking and I told him how mad I was that he was going, just when we'd got to like him, just when we could trust that he had an enthusiasm and a fine will. He said he had a song on his pod of joy he thought I'd like to hear. I listened to it: The Script "The man who can't be moved" and moistened. I listened to it just now and cried, big tears, really big tears. Great sadness and sense of loss that Next Boy is going and at the same time enormously happy for him. The song is generic rubbish, but expresses the feelings so very well, and I've put the video here to remind me.

2. Being soft-hearted I'm feeling a bit sensitive to almost anything. Little Phil got in touch today by email. Here's another beauty. A human being. We had a brief email conversation about the kind of stuff we often chat about...and the news is he'll be off soon too. I have been so very fortunate in recent months to meet some truly perfect human beings and this bloke is right up there. I really wish him well. He is a bright sparkle in a dull cloud.

3. I have been lost. Emma pointed this out to me recently. She was spot on. Friendship and love remind me that there is good cause to carry on trying to make a difference and trying to find a way to be true and trusting instead of lying and being suspicious. I have tried to be a friend to he-who-shall-not be named and curiously at every turn that friendship has been dislodged and disowned. Like the man in the song above, I have not been moved from my task to care about this person and I doubt that I ever will. My soft heart was moved yesterday by a spontaneous and high octane event of friendship and the love that is generated and inevitably drives it forward. My heart is beginning to fill again after a long period of emptiness. I am so thankful that there are beautiful, amazing and generous people in the world. My heart has been bursting with excitement and happiness and I have been full, really full of love for all my friends, especially the spontaneous one, who is truly loved and respected and cared for. We both know what happened and why.

Love is letting go of fear, indochine and a three way conversation

2008-07-29T23:30:00.001+01:00

1. I took the day off work and caught up with chores at home. It was also presented an opportunity to clear up some complicated misunderstandings with a good friend. I was thinking about the book by Gerry Jampolsky "Love is Letting Go of Fear". I read this book perhaps 25 years ago and it helped me to change the way I am in the World. That seems like ridiculous over-statement but it really did. Although most of the stuff contained in this book would be likely to elicit scepticism and positive aversion if I were to read it today, the title does sum up a way of viewing relationships which has been my goal, however poorly achieved, since I first read it. I have given this book to a number of people, some of whom have really understood why, some of who really haven't and some of whom found something else. What I know is that the statement "love is letting go fear" has given me a reason to get over myself when I have been self-indulgently miserable, and a proper ethic to stand by.

2. Allan and I went out for supper to indochine, a South East Asian Cuisine restaurant at 9 King Street. We went at around 6.30pm and so benefited from their cheaper but limited early menu. The unique thing at this restaurant is the sort of tapas style of little dishes you can order. What we ate was delicious. I especially enjoyed tempura vegetables and fried aubergines. The skewers of chicken and lamb were made historic with their accompanying sauces. The atmosphere was pleasant, the service was charming. I can't wait to go again and try some of the other stuff on the menu. The lady who served us kindly made sure we had a menu to take home and slobber over, particularly for those times when I just can't get it together to cook.

3. My third beautiful thing was unexpected. A three way MSN conversation. No big deal really but I was amused that the person who suggested it wanted to do it all. I've had my first on-line three way. What are the chances?

A sandwich, accidents and the fear of loosing something beautiful

2008-07-28T23:06:00.006+01:00

1. In anticipation of the Channel Four Dispatches programme to be shown on television this evening I went to Pret a Manger and had a Chicken and Avocado sandwich. It was awesome. The programme was perhaps a bit predictable and it wasn't that much of a surprise that there's a lot of crap and salt and fat and poor production in shop bought sandwiches. Also in anticipation of shock I made a homemade sandwich which would have been a delight to eat if I hadn't wanted a last hurrah! at Pret. I gave mine to my friend at work, her need was definitely greater than mine. So from now on its a beautiful homemade sandwich for me on workdays.

2. A good conversation about the meaning of life or the lack of meaning to life is worth a lot. The idea that everything has a purpose or that nature (whatever that is) has a goal is an illusion I came to recognise a while back. I used to believe that there was a meaning in everything, that all manifestations were part of a grand and omniscient plan. I used to believe in the axiom "There are no accidents". Now I wonder if there are only accidents, beautiful undefinable collisions of chemical particles that we can't comprehend the origin of. Sometimes something can be said accidentally that can change everything about how we understand each others intentions and actions. It is easy to panic and try to make an explanation there and then. To describe things from the gut reaction and to find some reasoning which will make it all seem good or account for why it all seems so bad. Today I began to step back a little from the panic. It wasn't successful, but I tried.

3. The third wonderful thing of the day is that just sometimes someone tries not to lie. That's an extraordinary feat. It seems almost impossible. There always seems to be something to protect. It may be another illusion of course. What seems worth doing almost anything to hide may simply turn out to have been an illusion anyway. I was challenged today to tell the truth. I wondered what that could mean. I wasn't convinced I knew what would be the truth. Is there ever a way to describe an event objectively? Scientists think they can by repeating conditions exactly and taking note of specific measures over and over until there is a negative or positive correlation. It's not so simple with emotional events. Suppose you felt you had been compromised by the indiscretion of a friend. How could you describe the experience objectively? There would be your experience, your friends experience and the experience of those to whom your friend had compromised you with. Its complicated, there's nothing obviously objective that everyone would agree to. But the commitment to not lie about your experience is a step forward. Someone asked me something like did I think the Earth had a chance of surviving? I used to always have a positive response to this question and now I still do. I think probably not. The 'world' as we know it is fucked. It's going into decline. It's a collision of circumstances, neither wrong nor right, especially not those particular two human constructions. The only human construction that counts for anything in me just now is the challenge not to lie. I think I'm making a reasoned attempt, but in the process I fear I'll loose something beautiful...

Lost, met and found

2008-07-27T21:24:00.006+01:00

1. Lost a love, the smirker was harsh and unreasonable. But it was beautiful till then.

2. Met a friend, discrete, handsome and reasonable. And it was beautiful there an then.

3. Found the voice to say "no more". He-who-shall-not be named is toast. Beautiful toast then.

Digger, poached eggs and an afternoon nap

2008-07-26T19:42:00.011+01:00

1. It seems ridiculous to suggest that someone could change your life with a smile. But my happy fortune has been to meet a few fine human beings who have effortlessly accomplished a cathartic change in my psyche. I generally refer to them as the Real Human Beings. I met one of the RHB's whose aura of happiness and courage has inspired me to treat those I love with renewed reverence and respect. Digger is a charming and honest brightness in a sometimes dull and deceitful little world. My life is better than ever today from enjoying Digger's fearless directness and heart-warmed humour.

2. After a very hot night of delightful sleeplessness, a shared shower, tenderly washed and loved, I needed to assume the role of day. I made a breakfast of poached eggs, fried clumps of mashed sweet potato and tomatoes. It was perfect in the moment, shared with the best company a man could wish for and with the early morning promise of heat and sun. My heart felt strong and able and my head was quiet and convinced.

3. I napped at my friends' house this afternoon on his couch, out of the sun and heat. An afternoon sleep is so wonderful. I almost never allow myself the pleasure. I'm usually finding some displacement activity or fastidious chore to exclude it as an option. Today after some quiet closeness and conversation I slipped away into sleep, feeling safe, relaxed and careless. And was grateful for the fortune of a friend who would care for me so unconditionally. The two shirts so exquisitely described by Annie Proulx was brought to mind when I was awake again. The eloquence of the image resonated continuously within the beautiful events of this day.

A smiley smirk, hollyhocks and a little bit psychic

2008-07-25T18:48:00.014+01:00

1. Emma went back to Oxford unreasonably (by her standards) early this morning. It was a beautiful bright morning and it was obviously going to be warm and summery. On the way from dropping her at the station I spotted the greater crested Mr G gliding along toward Lendal Bridge. I got to have a great start for my working day in the form of a hug and and huge smiley smirk. This was a very jolly beginning. At lunchtime I went out for a walk around the block and of course the heat had encouraged people to loose their clothes. Various possibly slightly drunken men were wandering around either with their shirts very open or shirtless. This is one of the benefits of the warm weather. I fear I walked around with a smirky smile and looked too long and too hard too often.

2. The Hollyhocks at Kings Manor are particularly splendid this year. I have at least on good plant in my garden too which grew from seeds collected from there. For some reason these tall, graceful wonders make me so very happy. I even enjoy the pinkness of the flowers. Although it is fair to say that my favourite colour is the dark red one I have in my yard. I've been listening to that bloody Snow Patrol album that we all loved a year back "Eyes Open". It always sums up the lost year when I was constantly in love and grief. Julie's Blog Untitled has a UTube video of "Chasing Cars" which seemed so spooky...she's just started writing and it's refreshingly frank.

3. I missed writing my blog yesterday for no particularly good reason other than I got chatting to a interesting bloke who had never got MSN to work on his computer. We talked on and off for a few happy hours on the telephone and typing away on Messenger. It was amazingly easy to become so familiar with someone so unknown. We probably told each other things strangers would never tell. I feel we might have talked as if we had always known each other. He sort of suggested that he was a little bit psychic..."not in a weird way, though" he was quick to add. It was very entertaining and relaxed. As always I was far to open and honest. He-who-shall-not-be-named had remarked earlier that he thought I was much too intense and made things too complicated. I wanted to refute it but he's probably right. I go between the desire to be truthful and clear and the longing to be simple and light. My problem is always that I feel there is a dialectic going on between my superficiality and my longing to find complexity and "meaning". Actually I've become pretty clear that there probably isn't any meaning to anything. It just is.

A scaffold of workmen, sowing the seeds of love and smile please

2008-07-23T21:07:00.012+01:00

1. Every morning recently when I arrive at work on North Street there is a scaffold of workman milling about in high-visibility vests and hard hats and steel-toed boots. They are all smiley and manly, grinning and spitting and smoking and slapping each other on the back and exchanging tales of last night's conquests and fortunes. I sometimes linger on the street as if I were waiting for someone just so I can soak up the testosterone and tobacco filled air. It's a great start to the day.

2. There is a song which I have been trying to loose from inside my head ever since I was away on holiday and found myself watching bits of daytime TV. "Sowing the seeds of love..." by Tears For Fears. I think it's used for a Pimms advertisement. Every once in a while I realise that I've been singing the chorus over and over in my head. And then I find it hard to stop. I bought the album that song came from originally in the 1980's and loved it then. It has something irresistible about it. I got a text from Sean this evening which was good because I have been missing him. He said "Hope things are still 'special' for you..." and they are. I love the idea of sprinkling seeds of love about with the hope that something special will grow from them. When I was younger I believed that my friends and I could make the world a better place and that humanity could achieve an enlightened sense of unity. Time could have dulled that vision but on the whole I'd say I still look forward to accomplishing that mission.

3. I met up with my lovely friend Mr G after work tonight. We hadn't seen each other for a while and certainly hadn't had time to sit around and chat about nothing and everything. We strolled down Coney Street to the City Screen Bar and sat out on the boardwalk and watched and commented on the pretty young men passing by and the rowers. I had a beer and we talked about silly and important nothings and feelings. Every once in a while we would look over at each other and his green eyes would sparkle and I felt appreciated and loved. Having a friend that you can say anything to is pretty valuable. I think I could say anything to Mr G and if it offended him I think he would give me a look and I'd know immediately. When we left each other at St Helen's Square, we hugged and he said "Smile please" and just for a moment I couldn't. A wave of melancholy passed over me and I wanted to cry. It was a complicated moment of lots of different feelings. I walked off towards the Minster and he went off toward Lendal Bridge, I don't think either of us turned around to take another look. It was as kind as it could possibly be. I regained my heart's composure and ambled homeward.

Hugging, a beauty and a tiny thing

2008-07-22T20:57:00.003+01:00

1. The desire to hug people is a happy one. I met at least three people on my travels today that I wanted to hug. There are definitely good physical and emotional reasons for pursuing a hug. The obvious physical benefits for me include closeness, warmth and intimacy. It's a grand way to get to meet someone. Emotionally hugging makes me feel connected (literally) and in tune with other people especially if they let you feel their heartbeat. I like to think that there is another element to hugging, a kind of spiritual connectivity, that feeling that my heart is your heart. I felt low a different points today and I didn't know what to do about it. But then this afternoon I got a lovely if slightly nervous hug from Laughing Man. It made my day. And that's the essence of hugs for me.

2. I ran into my friend Anita on my way down Bootham this evening. She looked incredible as always. I definitely wanted to hug her and kiss her and I got my wish. She is one of the most beautiful women I know in York and although she was stupid enough to let the Sailor go (and she knows it) I find it hard to believe there aren't long lines of lovely blokes queuing up to suit her. If I could somehow transform into a straight bloke, she would be top of my hit list. She is one of the truly "filthy gorgeous" people. York is that bit more beautiful for having her here.

3. After two nights of either no sleep or poor sleep I'm feeling I'm going to crash out at any moment soon. I was cheered up tonight by some kind advice from He-who-shall-not-be-named. It's wonderful that sometimes a tiny thing (in this case a supportive comment) can change everything about the way one perceives the reality of moments. Anyway, thanks to him for his advice and he's right I am so tired now I'm falling asleep! I'll work harder at writing meaningful and deep tomorrow.

Virginia Hiriskos, Robert Blackmore and Fluff-Ball

2008-07-21T20:04:00.008+01:00

1. I woke up very very early with a splitting headache. It was strange because I felt like I had a hangover, but I hadn't drunk much last night. The bedroom felt claustrophobic and the air seemed stale. So I got up around three am and checked through my email. In amongst the spammy stuff, two posts stood out from the same source about a couple of people I know pretty well.

The first was news of my dear sister Virginia Hiriskos who passed away last week in California. She was 75. She was one of the first RHB's I ever met. I was just 17. She was very savvy and sophisticated and from California. She always had a wicked smile and sassy laugh. She was incredibly realistic and true. I haven't seen her in many years. I was sad for Jim, her husband, but very happy to have known her and to have had the privilege of being taught by her in the early days of Arica Institute Trainings in London back in the early 1970's. It was a time in my life of spiritual exploration and growing up and Virginia was one of the people who inspired me to see the world differently and I did and do. Thank you beautiful Virginia.

2. The second was news of my old friend Robert Blackmore who has been diagnosed with prostate cancer. Now this bloke and I were once pretty close and we had fun. I met him at a New Year's Eve party in Chelsea at Tom Salter's house in Neville Terrace in the mid 1970's. We walked from Chelsea to Robert's flat in Waterloo at the end of the celebrations probably a bit worse for wear from drink and singing and whatever else we did in those days. By the time we got to his house we were definitely friends. Over the years Robert has transformed from a East End wide boy to a very conscientious and generous supporter of Arica Institute in Upstate New York. I was lucky enough to visit with him a few years ago when I was in New York just in the months leading up to my divorce. I was in a rotten state but Robert was kind and funny and every bit the happy little bloke he was that first new year's Eve night. I wish him the very best with waves of Love.

3. Back to work after a week away could have gone better and worse. Mostly it was pretty ordinary. But there were highs with lows inside them. My colleague arrived having lost her cat over the weekend in sad and traumatic circumstances. She was able to tell the story with tears in her eyes but with a vivid sense of her love and appreciation for a lost fluff-ball friend. I think there was something special about that moment, we don't often get to share that kind of emotion and I appreciated her kindness and openness. As the morning went on she was able to tell the story quite matter-of-factly, which is as it should be. I can write about Virginia and accept calmly the gift she was to my life and I'm sure many others. I can think about Robert and wish him the best and good recovery. I can share the feelings with my friend about her loss. I am full tonight, I don't find adequate words to explain, but it is as if there are just a couple of drops to go before the glass is overflowing...

Apricot jam, getting stuff sorted and a Big Red kiss

2008-07-20T20:10:00.005+01:00

1. This morning I made apricot jam. It doesn't really take much and I got it done before anyone was awake. I don't know what it is about homemade conserves, it's definitely cheaper and easier to just go and buy from the store, but. It tastes wonderful, sweet and rich. I made enough to give some to anyone who asks.

2. Having been away for a week there was lots for an obsessive-compulsive dust-botherer to do. I cleaned and wiped and dysoned and ironed and washed and wiped some more. I emptied bins and changed beds and folded and scrubbed and sorted and put stuff away. I never stopped until I got distracted by internet conversations and calls. I had a great time. I've been avoiding being the domestic god I've aspired to for a while and it was good to make the house nice again for everyone. Of course they don't actually notice but that's not the point. I enjoy doing it anyway.

3. The day concluded with the best kiss I can remember in a very long time. Completely uncalled for, completely unexpected and completely beautiful. It was a Big Red kiss organised with surprising skill and generosity. Its one I will never forget till the moment I die.

Beebole Cottage, York Rotters and coming home

2008-07-19T18:57:00.009+01:00

1. I have been away in Wensleydale for a week on holiday. It was beautiful. The weather was reasonably kind, but it is probably part of the Yorkshire Dales experience to get a bit damp from time to time. We stayed in a tiny cottage on the hillside by Semer Water and walked a lot and communed with sheep and dry stone walls and barns. I lay around and read a lot. I enjoyed a brilliant first novel by Ross Raisin "God's Own Country". It's the voice of someone who really is a Yorkshireman observing the townies and their lack of respect for his world and realities. It's quite a dark story and also very funny with language, as a sort of Southerner, I can only guess the meaning of. I was gripped by the flow and the cadences. I would recommend this little novel to anyone who loves the Yorkshire landscape and its language. Wensleydale, on the other hand, is quite different from the northerly moors described in my book but I can imagine that the real people who live there have to deal with the same issues and feelings described. Wensleydale is pretty empty, huge landscapes of green and limestone outcrops and vast sky. It was magnificent and I came home feeling well rested and calm. For anyone vaguely interested I've uploaded some of the photographs I took of the trip to my Flickr page...

2. I raced back to York this morning to attend a composting course at St Nicks Environment Centre run by York Rotters which was designed to raise awareness and recruit volunteers to promote composting in the city. It was an interesting day. I probably didn't learn a huge amount I didn't already have some idea about but it was well presented. I met some interesting people, some of whom will go on to be volunteers, giving up time to help others get started and to represent the group at events and displays. In particular one very nice man who has moved to York recently from Forres and who had been involved with the Findhorn Community in the past. We got chatting and he was kind enough to give me his details and agreed to come along at some point and talk to the St Nicks group about fund-raising about which he has some good experience. It was a fine feeling to be back with people again and connecting.

3. As soon as I got home, I turned on the computer and there was a reassuring rush of email and MSN messages and I've started to catch up with friends and family. I think a mark of success for this holiday was that it felt like I was away for an age. A lot of stuff in my head has changed or moved about and that feels like a good thing. I got a friend request on Facebook from a pleasing bloke in Canada who it turns out is a friend of Jon, the lovely fellow with whom I connected with recently. We exchanged some email this afternoon which cheered me considerably and reinforced the feeling that the world is a better place for making friends, however you go about doing it...I even had a chat with he-who-shall-not-be-named and it was almost affable. Of course he told me off for flattering him but I find it irresistible. I cannot help wondering why we all spend so much time worrying about what the next person's motives might be for liking us. It strikes me that as i grow older I feel less inclined to be suspicious and more attracted to be accepting. Big Red was one of the first people to greet me today. It was unconditional and happy. He made me laugh out loud in "filthy gorgeous" sort of way. I can't hardly wait to see him again. I just have no idea what comes next but it was lovely to return to home and I'm amazed that I'm looking forward to tomorrow. That is something I might not have been able to say easily a year ago.

A ping pong ball, Frier Tucks and a rest from the usual stuff

2008-07-11T20:06:00.001+01:00

1. The big excitement of today was an interview. There is usually something very stressful about being asked to say why you want the job on offer, generally I find, there is a need to give a cleverly considered answer. Perhaps I'm alone in this but I imagine that in some ways it is the easiest and hardest question at once. I tried honesty. I'm mostly an optimistic person on the side of half full rather than half empty. For some curious reason as I came away from the meeting and back out into the driving rain, I thought of a very funny piece by Damien Hirst which was shown at the York Art Gallery about a year ago. It was a glass of water with a ping pong ball sitting in it...Bless him. I wonder if he might have been considering a jolly physics query that asks what happens when a Ping-Pong ball is set floating in a glass of water that is enclosed in an airtight chamber? When air pressure is increased in the chamber, does the ball float lower, higher, or as before? The answer according to the Online Physics Lab of Daytona Beach, Florida, is that it will float higher! Hmm.

2. Having fish and chips as a take away supper is a fairly uncommon occurrence in our house. At the end of this rather long and at times stressful day I really did not feel like approaching or cooking food at all. I probably would have been happy to have poured a glass of wine and collapsed into an oblivion heap. Allan very kindly went off to Frier Tucks at 83b Heworth Road and brought back haddock and chips. It might not be the best fast food emporium on York but it is just around the corner. I ate mine with a great blob of mayonnaise, ignoring the fat ban and with excited relish (the emotional kind). The meal wasn't delicious (I cant think why S the P goes there every week from Fulford), and it wasn't totally satisfying either (I am a vegetablly boy really) but it hit a spot. A beautiful hungry spot.

3. I enjoy writing this journal and I try to keep up to date. Tomorrow I'm off to Wensleydale for a week's holiday in the Yorkshire sun. I will be writing while I'm away and I will update the entries when I get back. The likelihood is that where I'm going there will be no Internet access, no telephone reception and lots of rain...but we will find out I guess. I'm taking my camera and intend to be a photographer, I have a pile of books and plan to finish reading all those that I've started but not finished and I have my sketch pad and pencils and paints so that I can make scribbles that will probably never see the light of day. The beautiful thing about the intention of this break is that we get to have a rest from the usual stuff and enjoy the scenery and geology of area around Semer Water.

Callanish, cherries and complete strangers

2008-07-10T19:46:00.007+01:00

1. I started my Excel ECDL Advanced course this week and today I had a supported study session with a very nice person, Sally. It turns out that one of her passions is archeology and in particular neolithic period both in this country and in southern Europe. She pointed me to this interesting website which seems to be made by Julian Cope, the ex-rock person...there is a joke here. The Modern Antiquarian web site has some stunning photographs, for example a collection of images of the Callanish Standing Stones. We visited two years ago and it is amazing.

2. Cherries are not quite in season yet, but I ate a bowl load of lovely cherries this evening from way off foreign parts and they were wonderful.

3. I had two great telephone chats with good friends (one I've never actually met and one I've come to really appreciate) and I'm really happy now we've caught up. It balances some of the really negative stuff I've had from the other place. I also met someone new online. It's an extraordinary place. Complete strangers can become your bestest of friends.

The old bus depot, trespasso and Zantedeschia

2008-07-09T22:46:00.007+01:00

1. The old bus garage on Navigation Road is lost now to a multi-storey new build. They paved paradise and put up a block of student flats. I used to walk past the old bus depot and glance in at the little cubicle with a bloke in a uniform sitting there, fag in mouth surrounded by oil and grease and big old buses coming in and out. There was something very masculine about the place, it had a warm smell as you walked by. Now the old garage is gone and there are new, shiny buildings that will house the future movers and takers. All with en-suites and fancy furniture. I met one of the site managers today, a cute little bloke, furtively looking around to see what might be coming next. There were builders and workmen everywhere, all hard of hat and boot, all gruff and a bit overgrown in hi-vis jackets and arse hugging jeans. It was heavenly.

2. Walking over Lendal Bridge there was my friend beaming and coming towards me arms outstretched and greetingful. We hugged and held each other for one moment and the whole world was gone and the noise stopped and there was something gone still inside. It was a moment of actual bliss. I looked right into his eyes, full trespasso...the windows of the soul stuff...the whole works, just a moment of perfect connection.

3. The white Calla lily, Zantedeschia, in the back yard is flowering and wonderful. It's very simple and pure, just like some of the best of those people I have had the pleasure of recently. My day was definitely lifted by the sight of this beauty as it was by the sight of the others who passed my way today.

Green and Black's, ironing the shirt and the creamy white

2008-07-08T21:13:00.015+01:00

1. Green and Black's Organic Milk Chocolate can sometimes be the only thing standing between the desire to end it all and happiness. I'm not a chocofreak or anything, if anything almost the reverse and it's hard to describe what makes a perfect G&B moment. For me it does have to do with emotional challenge. Most of my days are filled with those, but a chocolate moment is other, words might not adequately describe it. I'm pretty stupid. I constantly fall in love, not stupid pink heart stuff, just waves of deconstructed crumbs and hormones. Today was a lightweight day, but like driving on the motorway past a pile up I tried to keep my eyes to the front. Somehow this evening there was a G&B moment after a series of little encounters. Big Red said "true" one time too convincingly.... I thought about Lil Phil, who I miss, who loves this stuff. There were two squares left and some crumbs...quite enough to enjoy and not enough to satisfy.

2. Ironing the "Pulling Shirt" has brought on a little melancholy. I washed it after the wedding. I could smell him when I first wore it. I slept in it, and washed it again. I had to be brave and iron it properly so that I can give it back. Iron set on steam, I started with tears and reluctance and gratitude. It's flowersome just like Mr M and it's time to return it. I chatted briefly with him this evening and I could imagine his happy smile and the expression he has when he's just beyond control. That really is sparkly and beautiful.

3. The Yucca which came to us a bit of manky root from a skip has grown well and now its flowered. I'm pretty pleased especially since I don't much care for the plant. It seemed like a good lesson to have respect for even the most challenging material manifestation. The leaves are spiky and vicious, unfriendly even though handsome, green and luscious. The flowers are creamy white, thin and perfect and you almost want to cup them in the palm of your hand and smell the delicate scent. But you resist because you know you could get hurt. Snow Patrol playing on the iDock "Don't think just do..."

Michael C Hall (aka Dexter), waking up and time-driven friend

2008-07-07T21:14:00.019+01:00

1. Dexter is not in the least bit cool. But I'm on the home run to the end of the first series. I like Michael C Hall in this, I never had any sympathy with his character in Six Foot Under. This is the first TV stuff I've watched in months. I'm over TV for now. I borrowed the DVDs from the library. I love the moral dilemma this story presents. The serial killer is hunting the serial killers. Who's the good guy? Actually I probably like this guy because my friend Steve the Monkey likes him too...that's another tale and another beautiful thing...

2. One of my best times of the day is when I wake up. I usually open my eyes and I'm good to go. This morning was one of those brilliant times. The light was pretty, there was light rain and everything was calm and bright. I did some email and checked through some paperwork. Before I knew it it was time to shower and get ready for work. Once there all was well. I was tired today though, I don't think it was because i woke early. I think it was Mondayness.

3. This afternoon was taken beautifully along by brief visit from a time-driven acquaintance. He said he thought I'd learned a lot since he last saw me. I replied that I'd had a good teacher who had shown me something perfect about not being attached to the next moment.

BlueFly Bar, Freecycled and JMGH

2008-07-06T20:41:00.005+01:00

1. Breakfast at the BlueFly Bar on New Street was a very pleasant surprise. I had creamy scrambled eggs on ciabatta toast and the hottest cafe latte in York. Actually I had two latte's, they were historic. Dr H had the same and we sat cruising the street and reading yesterday's Guardian. The place was almost empty and it was calm and relaxed which was perfect for Sunday morning. I have been at night time and then of course it's filled with the groovy and the good and buzzes.

2. The weather has been crazy wet here again today. There were lots of people out in York keenly shopping or at least browsing. There were some very good-looking men about which cheered an otherwise dreary day. The Sunday Times had a nice little article about the rise and rise of Freecycle in it's Business Section today. At last the idea of thriftiness has become fashionable for the middle class, they after all can afford to be thrifty. Apparently its chic to have clothing that you have obviously "darned" yourself or "patched" or whatever we are calling it in these post economic boom days. Enoughism rules are OK.

3. It was an odd day, because I didn't get much done except browse around the Internet chat rooms, and clear out my emails and write to people. All OK things to do really but somehow I wished I'd been more motivated to achieve something tangible. It wasn't until later that I got to chat on MSN with my friend in Canada, Jon. It is so beautiful to me that I can happen upon another human being and find that they are living in the same moment as me and breathing the same air and wanting to express some of the same feelings and joys. This boy is a golden person, kind and respectful and generous. All the best things I could wish for in a friend. He has a very handsome full name and he has a heroic and beautiful nature. I will meet him one day, can't wait.

Routine, nuzzling and my chemical romance

2008-07-05T22:05:00.001+01:00

1. Breaking routines is unusual for me. So Saturday morning without my usual trip for coffee and the Guardian with Nellie Poodle was different. Consciously keeping to patterns of behaviour may help the feeling of stability but it takes surprisingly little change for the sense of security to be questioned and challenged. I admit that there have been a few challenges to my quotidian existence recently. And I am definitely in a process of adapting and changing to a whole new set of rules and variations of what is acceptable behaviour and how I can be happy without hurting anyone else. In the last few months I have been met by a range of interesting circumstances which have stimulated me to reconsider some aspects of my way of being. It's not entirely comfortable. I seem to run out of time every day, where once I had spare. The good and beautiful side of this has been meeting some interesting and stimulating characters along the way. I look for something beautiful in each person I meet, it is positive discrimination. There is is always some aspect worth considering in any body. In most people there are multiples of open and closed doors to investigate, appreciate and play with. I get frustrated by the time we waste in cautious investigation of each other or pretending we have no interest or consciously removing the possibility of closeness and collaboration. It would be naive to imagine that everyone is 'good', but likewise I find it impossible to start from the position that people are more likely to be 'bad'. My routine personality has been challenged by having to engage with some nifty new characters from whence a great chest of fortune has opened.

2. When I watch scary movies, it is nice to snuggle up with someone so I can hide my eyes through the worst bits. I know in a way this defeats some of the object but it is a hell of a good way to get close to someone. Two movies were purchased from from the reduced section for a £1 each. They turned out to be the very worst kind of horror films neither of which could be watched all the way through, but they afforded a lovely opportunity to nuzzle and hide.

3. Damn the third beautiful thing. It is hard to be completely honest about these three things. There are times when I find it hard to say what is really in my heart. Obviously by saying that what I really mean is events and things which have brightened a few synapses. This idea that there is something going on in my heart is nonsense. The emotions we feel are entirely driven by body chemistry. I'm thinking that that means behaviours like routine, affection and attraction are activated chemically. The hopelessly romantic view that there is some beautiful force that makes us be good or bad, happy or sad, loving or unkind is simply unrealistic and magical thinking with no basis in reality. That does seem harsh in another mind-set but I'm thinking it makes everything rather simpler and less complicated in mine. I seem to have unavoidably embraced added-value complication on a regular basis, which sometimes causes me problems and "heartache". I have 'feelings' for every one I meet and interact with. Some of those feelings seem robust and forceful, and some of them minimal and mimsey. I can't help feeling that the latter come from my laziness. I'm thinking that My Chemical Romance was a great name for a rock band.

Hatti McKenzie, sweeping changes and floodgates

2008-07-04T23:27:00.000+01:00

1. Every Friday I have the good fortune to meet with my friend Hatti McKenzie to discuss document management systems. You can imagine, the hours just fly by. We also get to touch base about her other passion in brief which is art. Her work which I've only seen on the web so far is pretty amazing I think. She often describes the next project she's working on and they always seem so amazingly adventurous and exciting. This week she had come back from Glastonbury where I think she'd not only enjoyed the music but also done some installation work. Hatti is an inspiration and a beauty.

2. At the end of the working day I was inspired to scurry home and clean for Yorkshire. I spent and fairly happy evening, dusting, cleaning, changing the beds, turning the mattresses, polishing the brass (joke) and doing he laundry and ironing. I used to really love doing the housework and people would buy me equipment like my beautiful red metal dustpan and brush or a square of scrim or a book of advice like Margaret Horsfield's "Biting the dust" or "Sweeping Changes: Zen and the Art of Household Maintenance" by Gary Thorp. Both books are must reads for any aspiring fastidious house-husband (or wife if they still exist). These days, having achieved a certain level of enlightenment, in a Buddha-like state, sat under a Bodhi Tree (in my case in the sun room with my laptop and MSN blinking), I look around me a say "Oh so many Buddha's", which is sometimes a shock for Mr Tumnus because he is often the only other sentient being in there...My grip on tidy preoccupation has been slipping. So it was as if my cleaning woman mojo suddenly and usefully returned and at the end of the evening, Three episodes of Dexter on, I had done three-quarters of the ironing and the house was slightly less dusty. Spiritual and domestic bliss.

3. He-who-shall-not-be-named skillfully aided me in breaking the small pretense I manage at being clear and in control of my emotions. A little comment made (probably in innocence and fun) and I took effect immediately, and was about to run off in what he rightly described as "a huff", when I took a quick stock take and agreed I was pretty silly to allow myself the indulgence of thinking that I was hurt by his quip. As He-who-shall-not-be-named, the Lord Voldermort of my MSN list so clearly established we are not real friends just on-line acquaintances....it seemed harsh at the time but it's absolutely accurate. A good lesson for me this day. I've discussed my tendency to 'blurt' before, but perhaps worse (if that's the right descriptor) is to imagine that everyone I meet is my friend. There is a line in a Snow Patrol song "Spitting Games" that resonated with me from the very first moment I heard it. I think the bloke might be singing about being high on ecstasy of course, but never-the-less I feel something for just about everybody however unrealistic. Everyday I'm happy to say there is some moment of satori, could be a painting of Hatti's or cleaning up after a meal or chatting to a stranger and as Mr Snow Patrol sings...."after that the floodgates opened up and I fell in love with everyone I saw..."

Buddha Eddie, The other marriage of the century, and The Big Red

2008-07-03T22:26:00.007+01:00

1. I had the privilege of seeing a brilliant photograph of Buddha Eddie today on Flickr. It expressed a huge amount about this little bloke in the most incredible portrait I've seen in a while. He was photographed by his Dad and captured with his entire personality in a frame. I wish I could have taken this image. It is one of Dave's finest portraits, I think.

2. The other marriage of the century was announced today. Our dear friend Miss Chris and his gorgeous partner Mount Brummy tied the civil partnership knot They didn't tell any one...their witnesses were their very best friends from Malton who introduced them in the first place. It was such happy and gay news and it gave my day the most wonderful high possible. This was a totally most beautiful thing and it happened in York!

3. A warm sunny afternoon. The evening sunset light was streaming through the blinds and I could see the warm glow over everything and I felt elated and whole. I'd forgotten that such a simple pleasure as the violet hour light could change the feeling of one day into the expectation of another. The Big Red made this moment sound, smiling, panting, exhausted and replete.

Passiflora caerulea, Campana's Ristorante and only with you

2008-07-02T17:24:00.009+01:00

1. Last year I grew some passiflora caerulea plants from seed and have had them in a big pot in the sun room over the winter and into this summer. There have been a very few buds that seemed premature and never came to anything...and then recently a whole clutch of them...it's very exciting. Today when I got home from work there were two fully opened flowers. They are so incredible I had to share them here. What seems most unlikely is that they are white flowers and not the blue I expected. The structure is amazing, it almost defies explanation and so I'll just suffice with my photograph here and count it as another evolutionary miracle if that isn't a total oxymoron.

2. The people in my office got together for lunch today at Campana's Ristorante on Micklegate to celebrate Tony's 60th birthday and the acquisition of his bus-pass.The place is in someways unremarkable, the staff are friendly but not effusive, the food is good but not historic. There is little atmosphere (whatever that is) though it is a very easy and comfortable place to eat. I have never been there and come away feeling disappointed or less than satisfied.

3. There is a song by the Beach Boys from a lost album called Holland from the early 1970's when they were about to fall apart altogether, it's called "Only With You". It is one of my all time favourite songs, a bit like a hymn of love. It came to mind this afternoon as I was walking home from work through St Leonard's Place. My heart was pounding after a glimpse of someone beautiful and true I know through a window. There are few people it is easy to say that about, there are few people you can say "There are things, that we do, that I have only done with you". There are few people about whom that could be a honest statement made with love and the highest admiration. Of course some feelings we may simply have to accept as events that reside in our hearts and perhaps nowhere else. But that doesn't seem at all a bad thing to me, it seems powerful and more realistic than nothing at all, it seems more mature and realistic than ignoring the beautiful and believing that everything, every feeling is filled with possible danger. Today I am feeling it is possible that being human is a perfect state. I really like this song...

Drop your pants, Strange and Beautiful and Dr. Cool Bag

2008-07-01T21:00:00.014+01:00

1. I limped to work nursing a trapped nerve (I think that's what it is). This is a terrible feeling that might be referred to as sciatic pain. I have tried all sorts of things to get comfortable. Hot water bottle seemed like a good idea, a warm shower and a long soak in the bath. Gentle massage was attractive and today I read about curling up into a ball and then slowly expanding to a wide stretch. Seems like the sort of thing we used to do in the good old growth movement days when men's groups were opportunities to cry and share and talk about "Iron John". Its so painful I want to cry. The beauty of all this though is the absolute awareness it forces me to have of my body. I find it so easy to take it for granted but this has given me a good slapping and woken me from body-conscious slumber. The photograph was from Lil Phil, which cheered me up considerably. Various people advised me to make an appointment with the doctor to get some classy A type drugs to help reduce the inflammation and pain. While I'm sort of doubting that the doctor would be quite so informal in these matters as the Balfurd Cleaners sign would suggest, I remain as ever very hopeful.

2. As I was walking across Lendal Bridge this afternoon in the sunshine, even the visitors looked kind. I was listening on my ancient i-Pod to Aqualung singing "Strange and Beautiful". It is a perfect and unusual love song, near the beginning he sings "You've been so perfect with me but you just can't see, you turn every head but you don't see me.....sometimes the last thing you want comes in first and sometimes the first thing you want never comes..." I was beginning to well and then in front of me there was a vision of excellence, looking pretty in a pink T-shirt, all handsome in his shades and naughty smile. I told him of my body pain woes and he said he had a similar pain too. He is not in the least bit strange (that I know about) but he is a beauty. And it was so comforting to find someone who empathised with my pain. Strangely I could have, (should have) kissed him, there, then in the sunshine, unconditionally and without care of the consequences. watch the video from You Tube... of the song, hehe.

3. Finally it turns out that the most remedial thing is an icepack. At Christmas I was given a Dr. Cool Bag and a Dr. Hot Bag made by Suc kUK. The self-warming heatpack is wonderful and magically heats up once the metal disk inside is squeezed. It really is remarkable. Its too difficult to explain here I think but it really does get hot and it's re-usable over and again. But today I found that painkillers could be history, at least briefly by applying Dr. CB direct from the freezer. Having been chilled to the bone on my right flank I have had a few minutes of blissful comfort (the muscles are so numb from the froz there's no feeling left). Dr. CB is definitely a beautiful thing and being added as an honourary member to the RHB list.

The corbel of Dick, a gardener and honesty or appropriateness

2008-06-30T21:37:00.009+01:00

1. The leaf carvings in Southwell Minster are famous for their delicacy and extraordinary inventiveness. We visited the Minster and its Chapter House on the way back home to York today. I found one carving, (I think they are called corbels), is of a handsome little bloke who looked so like my good friend Dick it made me want to kiss it. Dick is by no means little, I should point out, if anything he has a very satisfying largeness to him. The little gargoyle head has a little dragon snake carved around him. I thought that was very significant and sexy in a psychoalchemical sort of way. I was thinking about the ouroborus snake that eats its own tail and the implication of circulating sexual energy and tension. But I let that thought go pretty quickly as it was far too silly. No, my heart found its way back to Dick and that naughty smile...

2. When we got back to York I finally mowed the grass in the back garden. The smell was divine, really spiritual and uplifting. And today the poached egg plants were beaming in the sunlight. The garden is now almost completely overwhelmed with summer growth. Allan and I worked for several hours to get some weeding and titivating done. It could seem like a hopeless task. What we really need is a garden boy who comes regularly on a Thursday afternoon. This makes me think of a delightful little story in Nigel Slater's book "Toast. The Story of A Boy's Hunger" which is a memoir of his childhood told through food and meals and related incidents...there was one afternoon when the gardener Josh was getting changed, ready for work "...his denim jacket is on the seat of his Triumph...Josh's white T-shirt is out of shape and so short it barley comes down to his belly button. It looks like he's had it for years..." Anyway, putting aside garden help fantasies (clearly Mr Slater did not...the chapter is entitled "Radishes" you work it out), I could use some help because otherwise my beautiful garden will become a beautiful jungle. I might as well admit that Nigel is one of my hero's, first for being a gorgeous gay man, outwardly at least, happy and contented with being himself, secondly I like his books a lot (except obviously for that weird one about drink, which I don't have, it might be called "Thirst") and thirdly because his book about his childhood mentioned above resonated with me in so many ways that I have read it at least three times and written a ridiculous essay for my degree course on a portion in it. (Very slight joke there). Enough. I want a Josh. (And I'd be happy with a Tom and Harry too).

3. Third beautiful thing...there is a choice between honesty and appropriateness. I'd like to think honesty is the bestest policy but appropriate has its own careful joy too. I had an extremely unguarded and unexpected moment this evening which was wonderful fun and a pleasant conversation with he-who-must-not-be-named. (No, not Voldermort you fools, damn! there I said his name now too). You can judge for yourself which was honest and which was indiscreet. Hehe.

The punters, Barnsdale and colcannon

2008-06-29T22:56:00.003+01:00

1. We set off after achieving a fine enough breakfast in College this morning, prepared by a cute bit of rough diamond who no doubt pleases the Masters with his repartee and charming culinary skills. Cambridge is filled with unreasonably beautiful Colleges and equally incredible and irresistible totty. We read the Sunday papers, and drank coffee in Nero’s and walked across the Bridge of Sighs at St John’s College. We reached The Backs and admired the young punters as they progressed their charges up and down the Cam. The sun shone, people sparkled with happiness and silliness, children scampered about and the occasional graduate walked past in full gownage. (It was graduation weekend in Cambridge). All felt very well with the world. My hangover was receding and the prospect of adventure on the homeward journey beckoned. On the way north we detoured to Wing in Rutland for an emotional hat-tipping from Allan for the site that he worked on for his Doctoral Thesis. Also in the village there was an extraordinary turf maze which dates back to Medieval times and is said to have been used by penitents, following the path of the maze on their hands and knees repeating begging prayers presumably hoping for forgiveness. Thankfully there was none of that for us but simply the joy of retreading some steps from the past…

2. Barnsdale was Geoff Hamilton’s television garden during his supreme reign on Gardener’s World in the mid 1980’s until he passed away. It was a complete surprise for me to find myself turning into his garden. Allan had planned this element of our weekend and kept it a secret to surprise me. He knew quite exactly how Mr H had been an inspiration and the object of love and admiration to me. I to this day moisten in a happy way when I think about him. I’m hoping that there are other people who feel the same way. Our visit to his gardens was a bit like a spiritual horticultural pilgrimage and as if on cue, when we arrived there was Mr H’s delightful DNA clone, smiling, handsome as hell just like his father, and greeting us warmly. The gardens are a series of little rooms, many of which I know so well from happy times watching Geoff on television and reading his books. The best, for me was the Artisan Cottage Garden and especially the home-made obelisk with its ballcock sphere atop and painted duck-egg blue. I made one too…it still lives in my little garden in Sussex. It was a happy time especially then but even more today for the kindness of Allan’s gift of this visit.

3. This evening I find myself in a fancy hotel near Barnsdale Gardens. I had local darne of fresh water trout on a bed of the most delicious colcannon. This is a gorgeous mashed potato and cabbage thing that comes I guess from Ireland. Mine had pepper and spring onions, it was just perfect with the fish. I'm going to make this with left-overs back in York at the next possible occasion and it may therefore have to have a second beautiful entry in this silly bloggett.

A mini-miracle, Dancing with Queens and a kiss on Parkers Piece

2008-06-28T23:43:00.002+01:00

1. Allan and I had been invited some time ago to attend the wedding of Douglas to Annette in Cambridge. After yesterday’s excesses, managing to be awake early enough and in a reasonable state to travel was a beautiful mini-miracle. It turned out that we had been invited as the naughty “uncles” along with several other dubious characters enjoying similar familial status. The wedding was hilarious, straight out of a rom com from the late eighties set in the delightfully uptight United Reformed Church. The brides family it should perhaps be noted is deeply of the god-bothering persuasion, while the grooms were on the very bright side of atheism. Afterwards we went to Addenbrooke’s Hospital (how ridiculously unlikely was this?) for the reception. On the way Allan and I chose to visit the Cambridge Botanic Gardens. And it was here that I was photographed, dressed to impress, in my cool linen wedding frock and Mark’s gwowgeous “pulling shirt”. The shirt turned out to be perfect, making it clear to all and sundry (and there were definitely some of those) that they were graced by the presence of a total Worcester who was keen to make friends.

2. Dancing at a wedding, especially after several glasses of champagne, is always a beautiful thing at the time but on reflection it is possible that people were irredeemably damaged psychologically or injured by direct physical abuse. Not being one to let a reasonable challenge go unheeded I launched myself onto the dance floor once the speeches and the tears had been unleashed. The music was dire…the first dance, the bride and groom’s dance was played to a delightfully obvious tune, which sadly I can no longer remember the name of….after that it was steadily downhill working its way through the obligatory “Dancing Queen” down to her belovedness Ms Kylie. I danced my arse off. Quite literally I think. I met up with two darling worcesters from York, friends of Douglas, a couple, who were usherettes. We flirted in a kind way (they were babies) and the prettier of them, a boy with the cheekiest sparkling smile that was guaranteed to melt any heart, bet me £50 I couldn’t get the brides father to dance with me. Enough to say that I did succeed (bless him, if that’s not too patronising). And also his wife, the grooms father and mother and latterly with a very personable young man called ’Nick’ who was wearing a red tie. I mention this last miracle because the pretty sparkly-eye boy said he rather fancied a dance with red-tie man. When I succeeded I introduced them and said “This is my friend and he’d rather like a dance with you”. At which point, quite rightly I was described as something not so very kind…The beauty of this kind of event is that one may never meet these people again and therefore whatever occurs is likely to be forgotten by the next morning. I met some very good people. Especially I enjoyed hanging out with Jon (the kind one) and Matt (the sparkly-eyed boy) but everyone who was kind enough to dance with me should be listed in the Queen Birthday Honours list….actually I guess this is it.

3. Allan and I walked back to Emmanuel, where we were staying, (an unreasonable distance but somehow acceptable when one has drunk a lot). We crossed Parkers Piece, a fabulously huge, green and grassy space in the middle of the city. About half way across, in the dark, we kissed and hugged each other and laughing made our way back to college beds. It was a lovely end to the day.

Both ends, recognising Sean and a beautiful bladdering

2008-06-27T23:55:00.000+01:00

1. I have I think its fair to say been “burning the candle from both ends” recently. It has been amusing, even fun to let the dissident hedonist out of his box and see what happens. I had about three hours sleep following some intensive and happy partying with friends old (in the relative sense) and new (in the literal sense). When everyone had gone, I sat on the bottom stair for a moment feeling exhausted, as without another breath, and depleted like a jar of olives taken from the refrigerator, consumed and satisfyingly empty.

2. After little sleep and a day at work, I spent the evening with several work colleagues out in town celebrating the end of Sean’s temporary contract. He’s returning to foreign parts to resume his other life. I will miss him. I have probably already added Sean to the RHB list but I’m adding him again. My heart is fuller for having had a little time around this bloke. He’s one of the few people I know that I would trust my life to and who is at the same time just very slightly dangerous to know. He can be unpredictable, in a good and reliable way, I never quite know what thought or ideal he might challenge next. I really like that in him. He is also a very emotional human with a beautiful smile and the kindest disposition. I might never see him again, (but I think I will) and in some ways that wouldn’t matter. Because just one moment of recognition is enough to be connected forever. You are a good one Sean.

3. Here is a third beautiful northern concept: “bladdering”. We drank a fair bit on this jolly jaunt in a variety of bars in town. Each of them had their own beautiful dimension, none that I visited with this curious group was particularly historic. We began in The Parish on Bridge Street, which was OK but sort of empty, it being 5.30 on a Friday and the happy people mostly heading home first I’d guess to get changed for a night of abuse. Then on to The Yorkshire Hussar, a lovely, skanky little pub on North Street, where a darts game was played and various secrets were exchanged. A little old gentleman arrived in the bar in the middle of the game apparently somewhat befuddled and amused by our friendly fumblings. I suspect he might have been an ancient mystical sage, with a wisdom to share. Frankly he looked like an architypal Yorkshire giffer, but what was disarming was how lovingly Cindy cared for him. It was a beautiful moment. There were other stops I think but for me the evening ended in the Hansome Cab, known in the past for providing reliable quantities of blood on the pavevement but which is now a pleasant and friendly spot to have a beer and a pee. I came to realise that I was “bladdered” and that it was time to go before I witnessed anything more of my colleagues proclivities or comedy routines. And at the same moment, my lad called and was suddenly there to whisk me home. He was so very tolerant of the bladdering that it almost hurt. In a good way.

Input, Output and Savings

2008-06-26T23:55:00.001+01:00

1. Beautiful input

2. Beautiful output

3. Beautiful savings

Smile from a stranger, a blush and a chuckle and a comedy of errors,

2008-06-25T23:03:00.006+01:00

1. A smile from a stranger can lift any amount of insecurity and sadness in a moment. Today i was making tea an coffe for my workmates in the tiny kitchen we share with the YOTs. A lovely man turned up all smiles and bright conversation. He was tall and unexpected. He told me a long story about carrying trays of hot drinks and how dangerous it could be. All the time smiling and sparkling eyes until he opened doors and escorted me back to my office.

2. I flirted outrageously with the man on the comuter software hotline and said something inappropriate. I blushed. He chuckled.

3. A comedy of errors tonight on the internet. It was completely Midsummer Nights Dream. I got myself into deep and hot water, and then made mad, ridiculous attempts to extricate myself and others from beutiful misunderstandings.

Team meetings, Miss Thing and spaghetti bolognese

2008-06-24T23:18:00.008+01:00

1. Team meetings can be very dull. The one we had today was long and pretty tedious but it was made just slightly better by making myself speak up. I could see the rest of the room groan inwardly as I found yet another thing to say. It didn't matter though. I felt good. I'm working on being more confident and contributing even if it might make me look stupid. One colleague left muttering about the complete waste of his time it was. Hmmm.

2. Emma was outside the office to meet me today when it was time to go. People in my office came to the window and waved down to her. Lil Phil dribbled coffee on his trousers. Suddenly everything wrong seemed a bit right, and everything bad seemed a bit good. I rushed downstairs to find Ms Thing and we strode off towards Lendal Bridge, arm-in-arm, giggling like the big girls we are.

3. This evening over home-made spaghetti bolognese Ms Thing and I had a heart-to-heart chat. She cleverly identified me as a bit lost, which I am. I cleverly tried to be cool about it. This evening I was charged to dye Ms Thing's hair blonder, and come to terms with being honest with her. I can't think of anything finer than saying what you really mean and want to say in spite of the possible consequences. I chatted to that bloke again, the one that drives me nuts with his rules of life and his monosyllable replies. I tried to tell him something true. It's hard though because I've begun to expect him to criticise and usually (I hope) , I would never prejudge an outcome. With Ms Thing though the outcome is unexpectedly normal and calm, which is just what I would expect from a Real Human Being. Another RHB chatted to me just a little while ago and he helped to make my heart soar.

Brotherly love, TK Maxx and orange lilies

2008-06-22T23:01:00.009+01:00

1. Falling in love with my brother today was pretty easy. I know it has a touch of the incestuous perversion to it, but this morning talking on the telephone to him I was overcome by a wave of love.

2. I went with Allan to TKMaxx at Monks Cross looking for new shirts. We found some beauties and it was fun. I was feeling pretty miserable earlier in the day and our trip was cheery and superficial. I'm going to wear the gorgeous pink candy striped shirt to work tomorrow.

3. The orange lilies are clinging on for dear life against the terrifying winds which have blattered York today. Fortunately I took some pictures of them yesterday in one of the few sunshine moments. I don't actually love them as flowers or the colour in particular, but they are so very DEFINITE as material manifestations. It's an exciting moment when they open at last so vividly and defiantly. This of course could be said of us all in particular moments and special circumstances. Today I felt battered and blattered by the wind and the changes going on around me.

York Youth Mysteries, the chorister and Emma returns

2008-06-21T21:35:00.007+01:00

1. In town today I worked as a steward for the York Youth Mysteries event. I was given a ghastly and deffo uncool fluorescent yellow hi-viz T shirt. I have put a difficult image of it here on my blog...not because it was a beautiful thing, but just in the cause of openness...My post was in Memorial Gardens below the Royal York Hotel which is beside the station. I walked down there with my partner steward holding a placard and feeling very conspicuous. The York Youth Mysteries was a series of performances, plays, singing, dance, installations etc put together by various Youth Theatre and Arts groups. Its a revisionary and youthful perspective on the traditional Mysteries which have been performed here for hundreds of years. The play I was stewarding was The Song of Solomon performed by actors from the Upstage Centre Youth Theatre and directed by Dan Bye. It began with Sheba and Ruth talking about Solomon in the gardens, the actors moved off toward the hotel, still talking in character, with the audience walking along with them. When the group arrived at the hotel, which is grand in a gentle sort of way, the play carries on through the reception (random guests looking alarmed/bemused by this strange interaction) and up the grand staircase to Room 101. We followed the actors into the luxurious hotel suite which looks as if it has seen a night of passion, clothes and empty bottles of drink lying about and a dishevelled bed. The view from the window is of the Minster towers. Solomon emerges from the bathroom in his dressing gown surprised that Sheba is there with her friend and angry with her and is followed by his ghost brother. The four actors end the piece by singing "Hallelujah", the Leonard Cohen song but in the style of Jeff Buckley version. I moistened. In one performance a woman actually shed tears...I have to say I was blown too.

2. In the course of my duties I met some really interesting people. I handed out leaflets and talked to passers by about the event in general. A young man turned up, an actor but not part of this particular event, there to see a performance. We got talking, it seemed he had a photographic memory and was preparing to play the part of Capulet in a new production of Romeo and Juliet in two weeks time, but was yet to learn his lines...He had the most winning smile. It turned out that he had just finished the last of his GCSE's yesterday (so he was disarmingly young but didn't seem that way) and that he had been a chorister at the Minster along with the bloke who played Solomon in the play. The young man was charming and articulate and friendly in a genuinely encouraging manner. I wish him very well and this man is definitely on the list of The Real Human Beings.

3. The best beautiful thing today was the return (thanks to a heroic effort by Allan to collect her by car today) of our favourite, youngest daughter Emma from her final first year term at Oxford. She look as so often she does, radiant and fabulous. We will have the next week together to sort out her stuff, do the washing and ironing and prepare for her next adventure which is to be in Barcelona. It is a treat and a whirlwind experience having her home again. The dust in her room has accumulated and settled, just as she seems to like it. I have resisted the cleaning fairy in me, which anyone who knows me will agree is a feat of some unusual measure. We had a lovely supper at the Indian Lounge (its officially developed into a habit) and then home to lounge around and watch more Dexter from the DVD I borrowed from the library this week. I fell asleep predictably in the slightest Cobra-fueled haze and all was well with the world.

Three day weekends, a walk in the woods and BBQ Social

2008-06-20T22:19:00.002+01:00

1. Friday is almost always a beautiful thing in working people's lives because it means that the weekend is almost upon us and therefore some feeling of freedom. I think two day weekends are much too short and that the three day weekend should be made the norm. Problem is for some of us it would mean we probably wouldn't get enough money, for some of us the problem might be that it would be too long to be alone or worse still to spend with our 'loved ones' and there would be some of us who just like to work constantly for whom it wouldn't do at all. For me I need three days free time a week. Day One, there are chores to do. I have serious housekeeping to undertake which requires a day of loud pop music or Radio Four in the background so that I can clean and wash and iron and potter about. Day Two requires a generalised relaxing, having coffee, reading the newspaper, watching the world go by, considering what would be good to eat for the rest of the weekend, browsing and marketing, going to the cinema, being with friends, having a few drinks. Day three is about rest and dabbling, perhaps gardening or walking or reading or just lying about. Three days would be luxury. I used to work part-time and had this routine when my week ended on a Thursday. Currently I don't often have that pleasure. But this Friday was OK. All the good routine stuff happened, meetings and bacon sandwiches...I do look forward to Friday, the same as everyone else.

2. I went for a walk with a beautiful friend through the fields and the woods near Castle Howard. The smell and the evening warmth and soft sounds made it very special.

3. I was invited to St Nicks Volunteer BBQ Social last night. It was fun in a small and gentle way. There were a few people I know from the business group there, Ivana was busy cooking vegetarian sausages and burgers, John beamed delightfully and looked sort of bemused by the whole affair and Allan and I drifted about engaging the next person in amicable conversation and introducing each other as "my partner" and smiling a lot. I met a few interesting people who heroically give up regular time to help maintain the centre and the nature reserve. I was particularly taken by a very handsome young fellow who works on their customer database. He had the most winning smile and we had a long conversation about the joys of Apple Macs and Access databases. I could have carried on talking to him all evening but even I began to run out of things to say without getting completely obviously tarty and flirty. The good York Beer and Wine Shop wine was kicking in by then and I knew I could get myself into serious trouble. But the wine reminded me a that shop which is on round the corner from Alligator on Fishergate. Its a really beautiful place in York and well worth mentioning here. They also sell fantastic cheeses and of course beers and ciders. Its well worth a visit and I'm going to go again very soon. All in all it was a pleasant evening, some delightfully nutty people and a gorgeous bloke. So great fortune was had once again.

Stoned tired, wedding of two radios and a nap with Giles Coren

2008-06-19T16:51:00.006+01:00

1. Waking at five am has its pleasures. Of course when you went to bed at two am it's not quite so good because at some point in the day, probably earlier than later, the loss of "sleeping-blissfully-hours" takes its toll. Indeed that was true today. There was a point after lunch when I just could not stay comfortable or concentrate. My body kept sighing, and asking me to just close my eyes for a moment of "sleeping-bliss". I manfully carried on regardless. and achieved something reasonable at least even if it wasn't so important. There is a special tiredness that comes around four o'clock anyway. I'm sure that I've read about it somewhere. Like some kind of biorhythm energy drop. Its actually quite a pleasant, kind of "stoned" feeling...

2. Lil Phil's terrible joke of the day: "What was the wedding between two radios like? The service was poor but the reception was great". It made me laugh, as so often, with uncontrolled fits of giggles....

3. To say I was tired at the end of this odd little day is an understatement. I had a little supper this evening and slumped on the couch in my room and watched a programme from BBCi about Victorian eating habits with Giles Coren and Sue Perkin. Its a hilarious programme in a series of wonderfully entertaining shows but then I hardly watch the television at all just now. I download and watch later...I'm looking forward to watching the next one which might be about Elizabethans and food habits...but the beautiful thing is that I had a little nap with Giles after supper and a restorative gin and tonic...

The flowery shirt, Jon and The Turn

2008-06-17T23:13:00.003+01:00

1. My good friend Mister G couldn't get over to see me yesterday. I was a bit sad but it couldn't be helped. This morning when I got in to work he called me from his bus journey into town. He had the flowery Jasper Conran shirt with him, (his 'pulling shirt' I think), the one he wore to his 40th birthday party. He is lending it to me for the forthcoming wedding Allan and I have been invited to in Cambridge in a weeks time to wear with my worcester off-white suit. Mr Conran is of course himself a considerable worcester himself, so the company is good. Mister G came up to my office and I introduced him to colleagues who were here, but they had no idea who he was...an odd, slightly blush worthy moment. Actually the blushes suited the little pink and red flowers of the fabric. There was a moment, just a moment saying thank you and saying goodbye which I wished would never end.

2. Facebook could get overwhelming. But not today. A young fellow called Jon from Alberta in Canada very kindly added me to his friend list. We chatted a bit on-line and he mentioned that his telephone provider gave him a 1000 minutes a month free call time to anywhere abroad. "You're the only person I know abroad". So he telephoned and we talked for an hour about life, the universe and The Real Human Beings. It was a beautiful thing for which I can honesty say I felt honoured to be a party to. This man was generous, full of humour, friendly and open about himself and able to hear what I had to say too. It's a treasure rarely achieved. We agreed to speak again and I'm sure we will.

3. I got a lot of pleasure from listening to a recent album from Alison Moyet called "The Turn" from 2007. All great songs full of emotional intelligence and vigor. I need to listen to this album a few times. Carl recommended it last weekend and played a couple of tracks. Its been a long time since I've lied to her wonderful voice and the carefully considered lyrics she expresses so vividly. I'm looking forward to the reunion of Moyet and Vince Clark as Yazoo.

Flying out ears, Patrick Cox and falling in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with

2008-06-17T22:06:00.008+01:00

1. The opportunity to laugh early in the morning is always good. I arrived at work this morning early to find Mr O'D there all happy and handsome in his blue gingham (Indonesian assimilated into Dutch according to Wikipedia) shirt. He asked me brightly if I'd had my hair cut as my ears were flying out even further than they usually do. I think it was an oblique sort of compliment. He's not someone that would flirt with another bloke frivolously, and probably not at all. It made me laugh and for a millisecond he looked uncomfortable...but it passed like a tiny burp. He was talking about the tow path by the River Ouse opposite Rowntree Park and down to the Millennium Bridge and how beautiful it is and how he would love to live in one of those houses. I could only agree and I said how I'd fallen in love a hundred times walking along that path.

2. I went out with the new student at work today and we talked about life, the universe and being gay. Being gay? I often try to say to people who ask me "Are you gay?", no I'm a human being...The student was actually very engaged with the conversation and she really wanted to share. I'm amazed by the generosity of people when they share their stuff and their experience. This person had lots. And she likes shoes...we visited the expensive shoe shop on Gillygate at number 25, Exclusive Footwear Limited and she fondled pairs of diamante-encrusted beauties that cost £350 a throw. There were also fabulous Patrick Cox men's shoes, completely utterly beautiful. I did not touch, I only glanced. The shop itself was disappointing. Slightly tacky and small...I think if I had the kind of money it takes to buy a pair of Patrick Cox from there (sandals from £90 reduced in the sale) I'd want it to be a bit more "classy" and welcoming...but nevertheless I wouldn't say no.

3. Wanting to tell someone how much you love them is a bit tricky. Especially when you can hear the Buzzcocks singing "Ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with?". This happens to me everyday, around every hour and at least once a minute...It just will not go away. I am hopelessly romantic and there seems to be no cure, which could just be because there is no sickness and this is what we are supposed to do. This evening I could feel my heart, what ever that really means, filling with anticipation and the deflating with acknowledgement. I chatted, I talked to people on the phone, I gazed over at my good man and my heart sank and rose as if it were bobbing about on an ocean wave heading for the other shore. I'm in a hopeless, happy state. And in answer to Pete Shelley's lyrical question. Yes I have. Every day. And especially today, and its someone I shouldn't have. Damn it.

Astrantia major, risotto and tears of mirth

2008-06-16T19:42:00.006+01:00

1. Astrantia major is a plant I've loved since I first saw a photograph of it in the Times Big Boys book of gardening a zillion years ago. It was described as a 'Victorian' flowering perennial. I suppose that's because of its delicate petticoat of bracts in greens and creams and the pink of the flowers in the middle "like pins on a pin cushion". I have two or three of them dotted around my crazy garden and just now they are beginning to flower and look the business. I also love the roses that seem irrepressible in this little yard. I look forward to the evenings when the scent is delicate. I appreciate the flowers in my garden, there are so few of them, mostly because they have to compete with the green and leafy plants that have grabbed the space and dominate the view.

2. I made risotto for supper. It is my very favourite comfort food. It takes almost nothing to make and yet requires conscious attention and care. My recipe has developed over time. Its pretty basic. I melt butter and coat the carnaroli rice in it. Then I pour a good glug of vermouth bianco into the saucepan and let it fizz for a moment, stirring madly, more from excitement than need. In another pan I cook some chopped leeks and red onion and celery in a little olive oil. I sliced the mushrooms and added them along with a good knob of butter and pepper, to gently fry. Back to the rice and add a good amount of proper chicken stock and stirring and stirring. I like to make figure of eight infinity signs. Meanwhile I'm baking the salmon tail and I add some frozen peas to the leaks and onions and a little stock. Keep stirring the rice and adding stock until it begins to get creamy and the rice softens and fattens. At some point it feels right to add it to the vegetables and more stock and more gentle persuasion with the wooden spoon. A little salad of fresh leaves from the garden with a dressing made from gomasio, rice vinegar, olive oil, tamari and the secret weapon maple syrup...When the risotto is done, its so creamy it barely needs anything else. I added the salmon in flakes, but if I'd has asparagus I would have added that instead. It's lovely with shavings of Parmesan and soft white ciabatta warmed gently in the oven. This was the perfect meal for the love-mired heart that writes this silly blog.

3. I should have mentioned, but didn't, how overjoyed I was yesterday to have a Fathers day card from Laura, beautifully made and signed. A treasure of constant surprise and loveliness. And from Emma a text message (she's so modern) and a call later to tell me that she loves me (I think a certain amount of alcohol may have passed by and that made it all the more charming). These women give me hope that all is well in the world and that my selfish little existence can take inspiration from their being. I felt like I was glowing at times today and wanted to burst into song and dance. I laughed a lot today. Lil Phil made the stupidest jokes of all time. I cried with tears of mirth.

A Hangover, Chocolate Cherry Brownies and the Back of Beyond

2008-06-15T21:40:00.004+01:00

1. Waking up with a bit of a hangover and feeling fine is a blessing. Yesterday had a few strange moments and in the evening it seemed like the best place to go was the Indian Lounge for a curry. I had a couple of beers there and then on to City screen again like we did last week. I got pretty squiffy. By the time we got home I was ready for bed and slept like a prince. When I woke this morning my mind was calm and I felt OK. A cuppa tea and some early morning sun made the day begin well.

2. I was determined today, no matter what happened, that I would make bread and bake a tray of chocolate and cherry brownies. This is a part of my attempt to stop buying shop mass produced rubbish. When the bread cooled a little I had a few slices with some of the gorgeous cheddar I bought yesterday in Harrogate. Home baking is a real beautiful treasure and especially chocolate cherry brownies. I made them with my tree-watching friend in mind, a man who deserves to have sweetness lavished on him. I really missed him today.

3. I read my friend's blog Back of Beyond this morning. It's simply a little journal about his feelings, events and some remarks he makes about his days. So many people do this now including me of course, that what was once remarkable is now almost quotidian. But he has designed it sweetly and he writes politely. I feel just a little guilty reading it so I left a comment on his last post. He'll probably take it off, but the intention was fine. This evening I played on line for a while and I came to appreciate how perfect the simplicity of communicating this way can be. Also how easy it is to be mistaken and misunderstood...but when something really does get said and communicated successfully it produces a blissful good fortune.

Weeton's, a park bench and Viva La Vida

2008-06-14T19:48:00.004+01:00

1. Weeton's in Harrogate is somewhere I've wanted to visit for a while. Its a farm shop in the heart of Harrogate, frequented no doubt by the affluent queens and families of that pretty little village. I bought a couple of simple cheeses: Old Amsterdam and Quicks Vintage Cheddar and then in another shop proper Orkney oatcakes. Weeton's is lovely and also so incredibly indulgent as to be very slightly obscene. They have a range of vegetables (some not so very locally produced, I don't think Brazilian figs count), meat, all manor of lovely breads and deli stuff. Its a fantastical little place that I imagine is much loved. I was struck but the cognitive dissonance required to cope with my conscience on this one. That is to say the sheer indulgent luxury of it all. I could have filled several shopping baskets with special and unusual ingredients but I stuck with the cheeses. Perhaps another time. Just a note to myself to add Andrew Loftus to the list of fabulous human beings I would like to interact with.

2. I visited Harrogate with a friend I made very recently. He had never been to Weeton's so I was there to burst his virgin shopper bubble. I was very gentle with him and he was incredibly kind to me for which I am very grateful. We spent a very happy and unstructured afternoon in the town, cruising the pretty men and scoring them like cattle at an auction. Its a disgusting little game some gay men play but its fun and relatively harmless. We sat on a bench beside Betty's Tearoom, clutching bags of recently purchased loose tea (I got Betty's Traditional English Breakfast for Allan and my friend went for Imperial Gunpowder) and gazed at the passing totty like two naughty old gentleman (well that certainly could describe me, he's a much younger bloke). It was lovely and playful and pretty innocent joyful moment or two. Thanks to Scrumptious T (and I promise from now on I'll never refer to you by that name, it's just the once and said with love).

3. OK that bloody new record Viva La Vida or Death And All His Friends by Coldplay is on my iPod now. On the journey to and from the spa town I listened to it yet again. On Friday Lil Phil texted me to see if I had bought it yet and to gloat that he had and that he'd been listening to it all night. Yer, whatever. I have all their other records damn them so it felt churlish to ignore this one. But I had trouble finding a copy locally and found myself reduced (that's patronising, but effectively how it feels) to visiting the local ASBO (aka ASDA) where I got a copy for £7. Feeling suitably pleased with myself I started to listen to the first instrumental track. With some pieces of popular music you can get a feeling right away whether or not you are going to enjoy it. This record has had some pretty varied reviews. Chris Martin has an annoying voice that I get used to. Its like one of those annoying little habits that Allan has, lets not be specific, but that I've grown accustomed to. You know like the song Professor Higgins sings about Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady. After two or three plays of the CD, and very like after a couple of glasses of wine, it begins to sound (and taste) good. Popular music seems to touch some addiction button in me. The joy of repetition must be some kind of chemical action going on in my addled brain. This one is a grower. Lil Phil described it as the best record he's listened to this year. Whoa! there canoe boy. There have been a few gooduns. Of course we no longer mention the lost week with Alphabeat...my new friend from Harrogate likes Allison Moyet and Vince Clarke separately and together as the recently reformed Yazoo. I think I do too. I'm happy to say I have what I think is a very catholic taste in music. Like the people I meet, I fall in love constantly with pieces of music and songs and pop memes. I never get over anything, I might try to store them to the deep parts of my heart (people who don't love me back) or on the shelf with the other CD's until I cannot bear the separation any longer. Coldplay's record is going to be with me for a while, all bed wetting and middle class angst about death and loss that it is. It's a relatively harmless beauty and joy.

The doctor, A Man For All Seasons and a late night chat

2008-06-13T23:21:00.000+01:00

1. I very rarely visit the doctors surgery. Mine is the Heworth Green Surgery. I have been perhaps twice in the nearly eight years that I have lived in York. One of those times was about someone else. I decided it would be good to have a little papilla growth that has been on the under part of my right eye for some time. I arrived for my appointment, the receptionist was sweet and friendly and almost immediately, certainly within a couple of minutes of the stated time the doctor turned up. Within moments the offensive little wart was gone and we chatted about titanium and the document management system now used by the NHS. It was very amicable and objective. What was beautiful for me was that my expectations had been low and the reality proved to be calm, efficient and cordial. The doctor by the way, a very handsome middle-aged bloke, can definitely be added to the role of honourable and gorgeous men in York.

2. In the evening I went with Allan to see "A Man For All Seasons" at The Theatre Royal. I don't often get caught up emotionally with the story in a play because unlike the cinema, I generally don't get so engrossed or engaged so as to forget that it is going on on a stage. I got completely sucked in. I moistened, I gasped and the whole drama seemed to be reflecting something about the moral and ethical dilemmas rolling about in my little mind. I came away feeling as if I had been through two and half hours of intensive therapy. It was extraordinary. The cast were convincing and powerful men and women. The actor Mark Frost who played Cromwell was extraordinary. Its a huge, sharp and fast paced piece which Mark Frost delivered so believably I occasionally wanted to jump up onto the stage and stop him from being so mean. And the lead character Sir Thomas Moore was played by a Theatre Royal regular David Leonard. He usually plays the baddie in the annual Berwick Kaler pantomime but in this he embodied the considerate and moral gentleman that might have been Moore. I got so much from this play about staying true to what you feel is right, about being canny enough to keep your mouth shut at the right moment and about resisting the temptation to take an easy path when a difficult one presents itself.

3. There is nothing so good to me, as a long late night chat. Its very nourishing and sets me up for a good nights sleep and happy dreams. It helps of course to talk to someone who actually gives a shit about whether one lives or dies, it makes a difference if the conversation is two way and not just an ugly blurting. The subject matter could be almost anything and doesn't absolutely have to settle anything either. I had a good one tonight.

Toast and Honey, Letter to Mama and S the P

2008-06-12T11:38:00.000+01:00

1. Toast and honey was the first really beautiful thing of the day. I had discussed this as a possibility with Little Phil on Facebook last night. He had the honey and a perfectly wrong loaf of Warburtons sliced toasting loaf and full fatty butter was purchased. We made toast for all present in the office and lips were licked and satisfaction, although brief, was had by all who partook.

2. I was chatting to a someone about friendship and he reminded me about a letter that Michael Toliver writes to his mum in Armistead Maupin's "More Tales of the City". Its a beautiful letter I wish I'd written to my mother and contains so much of what makes me happy to be me. Towards the end of the letter he says "Being gay has taught me tolerance, compassion and humility. It has shown me the limitless possibilities of living. It has given me people whose passion and kindness and sensitivity have provided a constant source of strength. It has brought me into the family of man, Mama, and I like it here. I like it." I do like it here.

3. Finally I made up my mind that I could no longer ignore the fact that I haven't seen my friend S the P in a very long time. So I arranged to go and see him and catch up. It was good. The best friends are those you can continue a conversation with that might have begun a year ago as if time really was just an illusion. He made me a bowl of beans and we chatted about life, the universe and everything we love. It was perfect.

Mr Tumnus, Detours and daisies in my heart

2008-06-11T21:58:00.013+01:00

1. Mr Tumnus gives me endless amounts of simple pleasure. He is the silliest creature I've ever come to love. I just adore him. Today I came home and he was curled up on a wicker chair in the sunnyroom. I spent sometime chatting to the good people on Facebook and MSN and it cheered me and made me miserable both. There's this one boy that drives me nuts, no matter how much I try to express friendship and compassion he rejects it. I don't really know why I bother, I can't quite give up. Perhaps it relies on my bruised ego for the nutrition to survive. It's developing into what I imagine is a sado/masochistic comedy show. So much, well all of it, takes place in my head and in the interweb world of zeros and ones, its crazy. It probably could get to be difficult to define one reality from another. I'm almost ready to abandon him and never bother again and then I think about how I feel when I'm alone, its not good. I don't suppose he's really alone but a small part of me thinks that perhaps a little part of him is. I have the very happy situation of having Mr Tumnus and the people I love around me to keep me bouyant and free.

2. Bloody Sheryl Crow. I have a bad feeling about this record "Detours" its full of the predictable trumpeting of this girly moaner. I'm about to get addicted again, like that song about about peeling labels off Buds in a bar. I've listened to "Love is Free" a hundred times and I've only had this record since today. Its just ridiculously shallow. But there are songs on here that are a bit deepier say "Peace Be Upon Us" and "Love is all there is". I read somewhere that this is all about a sadness at the end of a relationship. I'm enjoying the lightly sad expressions in it, they suit my mood. This evening someone challenged me to role play and make up a fantasy scenario. I thought it was a bit predictable rather like singing about a love that's moved on. Sometimes I imagine that everything will return to another time when everything was full of laughter and lightness. Right now I feel like I'm taking a a bit of a detour myself with pretty no idea of where I'm heading. It's not so very bad. I just have to stay stable and try not to sink.

3. Daisies in the garden help to soften the blows of craziness in my emotions. There are daisies in my heart. I went out and looked at the little patch on the back lawn today. I stood under the trees and remembered how good it felt on Sunday to look out at the trees and lie about chatting and breathing in the green and companionship they give up so completely and unconditionally. Whatever people might say about being in love there is something wonderful about the rush I feel when I think of each inhabitant of my heart. My heart is always pretty full and red. Today I've added even more to its already weighty and colourful load and I feel ready as always for more.

Doodley smillograms, financiers and strawberry red

2008-06-10T23:58:00.003+01:00

1. I'm whizzing through a little book by Tony Buzan called "The Power of Social Intelligence". I've read a couple of his books before and each book is just about the same material presented slightly differently. This boy likes mind maps, a little idea he has very helpfully copyrighted. These are basically interconnected doodles that organise thoughts and ideas and I use sometimes use them to take or construct notes or for revision. These doodley smillograms are made up of very simple labels and drawings interconnected in a spiderweb sort of way. I find them useful and occasionally beautiful. Near the beginning of the book Mr B quotes from a poem which has "appeared on the Internet"...very convenient, about smiling:
Smiling is infectious; you catch it like the flu,
When someone smiled at me today, I started smiling too.
I passed around the corner and someone saw my grin
And when he smiled I realized I'd passed it on to him.
I thought about that smile and then I realizes its worth,
A single smile, just one like mine, could travel round the earth.
So if you feel a smile begin, don't leave it undetected:
Let's start an epidemic quick, and get the world infected

I smiled a lot today as I walked about York. The people looked happier, it may have been my delusional state but the day sped past and I felt good. (The mindmap on this page comes from Toolbox blog, check out the link).

2. I made a batch of Financiers. These are little french biscuit cakes that you can buy all over Europe but which you don't really see here. They are made with almonds and egg whites. Allan bought me a magic silicone finacier mould back from his trip to Antibes earlier in the month. They are not difficult to make, I think they are delicious so I thought I'd take some in to work today. The reciepe I followed comes from a brilliant little book "Nobody Does It Better" by Trish Desine. This is an English woman who has lived in France for years and writes about the simple joys of French France cooking. Its straightford stuff and I dip into it all the time for inspiration. I was having a very girly conversation with my friend Mark the other evening about domestics. We also chatted gaily about our attitudes and use of cookery books. Mine are all splattered with chocolate and dried on cake mixture. He is much more respectful and tidy and makes notes from his on little cards...I love that...if only I could be so good. Actually if only I could be so good in general. Mr M by the way counts as one of the very beautiful things in York.

3. More strawberry red please.

Dracunculus Vulgaris, Ting Tings and

2008-06-09T22:04:00.000+01:00

1. This incredible plant is called Dracunculus Vulgaris is flowing in my garden this week. It has an amazing form and colour and actually sinks just a little, its a member of the arum family and it attracts flies and other insects. Of course it also looks like an erect penis and when it fades, it goes limp and shrivels taking on a sad but familiar state. I was three three bulbs for my birthday a couple of years ago. They are very exciting plants. The foliage is robust and the flower is spectacular.

2. I'm enjoying the Ting Tings. "We Started Nothing" which Little Phil suggested I listen to. It comes as an immense and welcoming relief to find some new and brilliant happy pop music (...Alphabeat must die...) I saw this band on the television a while back on the BBC "Culture Show" a place I've been introduced to some very welcome alternatives to my usual choices. "That's not my name " is an easy target and its been very popular but actually this is a great album almost all the way through. I'm adding it to my list later. What makes this record a beautiful thing is more to do with feeling connected to the world than it is about quality of the invention of the artists. This isn't anything new, but it is bright and part of a long tail of style and happiness I wouldn't want to loose a fingertips touch with.

3. Feedback is a beautiful and sometimes difficult negotiation. You have to assimilate the news, absorb what's so, checking if there is space for the consequences if you take it on board and eliminate the parts that don't feel right. Mistakes can be made and gems easily missed. I pretty open to feedback but also pathetically easily taken out by it. I generally bounce upwards again if I've had a down. I'm not so very good with compliments, they seem so unlikely and I feel alternately unworthy or more worthy than they turn out to express. I asked someone how their day went and he said "not great, how was u'rs?". Perhaps thoughtlessly I responded with a list of stuff that hadn't been so great in my day. He was generous and patient and then said he had to go, conversation over. But as a last reminder that it doesn't take much to be perceived as selfish he said "But anyway you didn't much care why my day wasn't so great did you?". He was wrong, I did. But I'd been stupid enough to think he'd tell me about it when he was ready. I missed my opportunity to be a good friend and show that care. It was a tiny and beautiful gift, a little slap of recognition and a reminder to be more conscious.

Big Swop, Cafe Concerto and being open

2008-06-08T22:46:00.002+01:00

1. On Saturday I dropped in to the St Nicks Big Recycle and Junk Swap at the Environment Centre. This is an annual event, I went last year as well. People bring unwanted stuff, could be almost anything and can take away whatever they find that other have brought that they need for themselves. Its like a church jumble sale but without money. Its also obviously a good opportunity for the Centre to promote its services and aspirations and for people like me to meet other like-minded people. I'd guess there were quite a few from The Freecycle community there. It was a very interesting mix of local people from Tang Hall, the travellers folk from James Street and jolly middle-class eco-warriors. I took two bags of clothes recently liberated from the wardrobe, mostly things we should never have considered in the first place but which hopefully someone thought worthy of trying (the obvious items seemed to go pretty quickly) and a load of books. Jo Pullar from Space in Walmgate was there making a sculpture from bits of junk, it was lovely. I found an old rusty red lantern, the type that gets hung on the end of a skip to warm passers by that perhaps its best avoided. I didn't actually have to have it but I sort of wanted to be in the spirit of the Big Swap and so I took it home for the garden. I'm thinking though that this is how the whole materialism attitude is kept afloat. Even knowing I have enough I still take a little bit more, just to be a participant, like drinking to be sociable.

2. Later I went back into York and collected Allan from the university event he'd been at all afternoon. We decided to have an early supper and headed towards Petergate in search of sustenance. Cafe Concerto looked promising and as it was early we got a table right away. I've eaten at this place a lot over the past few years. The jolly giant waiter who always seems to be there did not serve us but twinkled attractively as he passed the table a few times. Perhaps I imagined that more in hope than reality. They have a bread basket which has a more than adequate selection of delicious bread. We shared a bottle of cheap (but actually ridiculously expensive) Australian Merlot. I say we shared, Allan had one glass and not wanting to be wasteful I finished off the rest with a fabulous cottage pie. Cafe Concerto has been the scene of a variety of emotionally charged moments in my life in York mostly charged with happiness and humour. I definitely would be failing in this little task if I didn't count it in as one of the beautiful things. This evening was no exception. My view of how to behave and live seems to be fluid and open at the moment. Allan and I spent the meal negotiating and discussing what happens next. I think he and I have had these conversations before in the same happy location. We left, me pretty squiffy, demanding pudding (which turned out to be a beer at City Screen, sat on the steps of the terrace watching the potential revellers drift by in the sunset).

3. As much as I enjoy chatting to people over the Internet with speedy type and cute symbols and abbreviations, nothing beats actually talking apart from obviously being there in person. One of the things I love about MSN type chatting is that sometimes complete strangers become friends, sometimes just very briefly, and sometimes apparently with absolute candor and alarming openness. Of course I am pathetically unable to hold back and trust pretty much anyone. I have come to accept that I have to take full responsibility for my naive attitude to sharing my feelings in this way. Recently this has been the source of cathartic explosions of emotion. Sounds a bit dramatic but its true. I spent Friday night in floods of tears after a series of interactions on the web. It was hideously self-indulgent but stimulating and charged with energy. I now feel grateful but a bit sore. I've spent a lot of energy this weekend having a question and answer sessions with myself, a dialectical discussion which seems to be about reviewing and reasoning my values, morals and behaviour. A beauty of this on-going dialogue is its lack of importance to anyone else but me.

A cigarette, Nush and Selam Lasma

2008-06-06T23:07:00.006+01:00

1. I passed the final module of ECDL this morning and I felt elated and exhausted all at once. When I came back I stood out on the roadside with Cindy and it was a lovely moment. My legs were shaking and I was just so happy to be alive. She very kindly obliged me with a cigarette which is something I would not normally consider. But the combination of the test on the stupid Access programme and the lost chunks of emotion which have been ripped out of me over the last few days took their toll. I was a gibbering wreck. Last night I had a long and (for me) difficult conversation with a 'friend' online. He gave me some pretty harsh feedback. Mostly that he felt I had been cruel to him in an unnecessary way. I've been over this already earlier in the week. He also described me as well low. And for some of today I thought he was probably right. Tonight I could cry I feel so miserable except that if I do it'll just draw even more attention to my vacuousness. So I'm feeling sorry for myself. Get over it Dave. The cigarette was lovely though.

2. I found my old friend Nush. Thank you universe...I have missed her. We were walking through Parliament Street and there she was, all washed out and tired and trying to explain where she had been. I don't care its just wonderful to find her again. I would have called her this evening but the emotional dramas just will not stop.

3. Selam Lasma! Nothing is going to adequately explain this one. But tonight I felt I was really honest with someone. It was horrible of course and not at all what he wanted to hear, I don't think. And as a result I doubt I'll ever hear from him again...and although this sounds corny, I'm heartbroken. Another 'friend' said he has three life rules and when I think about each of them they are reasonable and probably true. His three rules broke something too. Beautiful is not something you can easily describe in word. You can of course have beautiful words...but if I accept my friends three rules then perhaps even beauty is doubtful.

Cobwebs, enthusiasm and Alphabeat

2008-06-05T22:08:00.000+01:00

1. Days can pass with all sorts of beautiful and challenging things which happen or are acquired or which I see go past me. For some reason this week has been a bit of a blur. The last couple of days filled with little experiences which have changed everything about how I perceive the world and from my ego-centric point of view, me. I have spent many hours chatting on the Internet, discussing my day and flirting, keeping up-to-date with new information and trying to study Access database. My laptop gives me a great deal of joy and although I had a good chat with Ian about maybe buying one of those beautiful Apple Notebooks so prominently displayed in SATC this one is still good. It has been a great tool for breaking down my shyness, for meeting amazing people and working on discovering all sorts of possibilities in the greater universe. I have been a Internet fan since a very long time and it has changed socially in some ways out of all recognition from the early days of "The Well" (for anyone who can remember that far back) to the !beauty? that is MSN Instant Messenger and all the other associated social networkers.

2. OK, so that was my enthusiasm overload expressed. But not quite...networking ideas seems like a wining solution which ever way I look at it. I had a meeting with a colleague which set me off on a whole web of new connections. I spent useful time following up some of the contacts he suggested and found new connectors along the way myself. I was blown away, once again, (pretty much a daily occurrence since I can ever remember) by how keen people can be to network and support complete strangers. Perhaps I haven't understood the dark Machiavellian plots of evolutionary psychology but I'm grateful to their generosity and for their combined knowledge.

3. All of that is very wordy and enthusiastic but so what. It's just so easy to dribble. It's what you actually do that has considerable consequence. I'm wrestling with that today. My wrestling has been supported by Mr W's patient and generous time, advice and comments, letting me blurt it all out across the digital highway with him. I don't understand why anything happens? It's tempting to conclude that there is a reason for everything. But that seems to veer towards a line of magical thinking I thought I'd moved on from. So the third beautiful thing today was a new CD which dropped through the letterbox this week by Alphabeat "This Is Alphabeat". There's nothing of great purpose here, its very straightforward happy summer pop music. I like it. Nobody will know I'm listening to it, because I can hide the CD and I have it now on my iPod of humungous joy. Every once in a while a song (or two) seems to sum up the feelings and enthusiasms of the moment. This week, today, this hour their songs "Fascination" and "Boyfriend" along with most of the rest strike an embarrassingly juvenile chord. Oh well, the remaindered seventeen-year-old in me is dancing and dribbling and laughing out loud.

Starwberry blond, recovering composure and delight

2008-06-03T17:27:00.005+01:00

1. Strawberry blond
2. Recovered composure
3. Delight

The cycad, a 35 year telephone conversation and F*ckhead is not a good word to describe anyone

2008-06-02T22:08:00.002+01:00

1. The cycad (Cycas revoluta) in the sun room has sent up 15 new fronds. It is a ridiculously joyful burst of leaf action after last year when nothing bloody happened at all except that some of the leaves got a bit yellow. There was lot of bursting out in my day, happiness (Mr Cycad), endurance (Ms C) and unnecessary anger (Mr Grumpy). All excellent bursts in different ways

2. Talking to C on the telephone I was thinking that there are some friends I could never live without and she is one of them. We often don't see each other or talk for months on end. Our relationship has changed over the 35 years we've known each other...a lot of times...but the bit that is really true, the half that loves the other half, is enduring and beautiful.

3. K*ckhead is a bad word. It is not a good word to describe anyone by. I must not use it ever again to assign an analysis of someones ego. Hurt could be done and taken. This is a lesson I should have been able to learn without doing it in the first place. Sorry to anyone I've ever used that phrase to. You know who you are. Anyway today I said it and regretted it and tried to take it back and quite rightly it was refused. I suddenly saw the person in a different light. It was a gift. I suppose its too late to suggest it was said with love...well I know that it is. But you are loved anyway.

A hair cut, a walk into town and SATC

2008-05-31T23:41:00.014+01:00

1. My first wonderful thing today was getting my hair cut by Stacey at Saks on Daveygate. I telephoned this morning on the off chance that I might get an appointment today and it was perfect timing. I don't really feel comfortable going to regular gentleman's hairdressers (well sometimes I do). But I've been having my hair cut by this very nice woman for a while now and wonderfully if I don't feel like chatting she just gets on with it. Today was different. I arrived and had my hair washed and conditioned and massaged by a very cute young man called Ben. He did it beautifully and skillfully especially the head massage which was heavenly. Then Stacey did the cut with scissors as usual. In my head I'm Charlotte from SATC but in reality I'm a bit more of a 50 plus bloke with grey bits. It was lovely though and we had a very jolly conversation about football (? I know it seem pretty unlikely, but I was trying to project my masculine side) and the weather. Mostly pretty safe.

2. Being able to walk into town and back, save on carbon and get some exercise is wonderful. I did buy a linen jacket from Zara in Coney Street, have lunch in Nando's and get some bananas. I'm hoping that the walking offsets some of the carbon emissions those things took to produce. I doubt it though. But I enjoyed the sunshine and the walking chat.

3. My third beauty today has to have been "Sex And The City". We went to City Screen (having bought tickets earlier), bought a beer (which you can take in to the movie with you...how wonderful is that?) and arrived in time to watch the Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte clones arrive with their hagfags and male walkers. Perhaps because there must have been races again today people were quite jolly and well turned out. It was a feast for the gay eye on the straight guy. It was like a sausage machine...but perhaps that's another tale. The movie was very funny. At least it was funny as anything I've seen in a long while. It's not though quite a movie more several episodes of TV back to back...but still great. It presents a very affectionate and generous portrait of the characters. An on line friend reminded me that it was probably made to press everyone's buttons and it certainly did that for me. All the way through I kept thinking about how wonderful it is to be in love and how unforgettable it is even when the person is gone or unavailable. I can't actually think of one person I have been in love with, that I don't continue to desire and think about to this moment. It was a feel good feature. That doesn't seem too harmful. Actually by the end of the evening I realised that having started the day by identifying with Miranda, I had moved on and found myself in each of the others. While I'm mentioning beautiful things I feel its important to point out that the character Steve, (Miranda's husband played by David Eigenberg) deserves and gets a very special place in my heart. So go see it.

A fill of happiness, Hilary Benn and a sauntering gentleman

2008-05-30T20:37:00.005+01:00

1. I had more than my fill of happiness today. It stayed inside me, just enough delicious trace to keep me warm and content and glad to be alive. I think that's a good start to whatever comes next.

2. I went to a meeting organised by Hugh Bailey this evening to discuss the Climate Change Bill at the Friends Meeting House. Hilary Benn the Environment Secretary gave a short speech and answer a good range of questions from the audience. He made some inspiring statements and presented his answers with eloquence, calm and convincing reasoning. He made a couple of points that were reminders that there is a positive effect individual responsibility and that reaching consensus is difficult but that action is harder. In the present economic and social climate it could be very easy to become distracted and put aside concerns about what's happening to our planet, the "Inconvenient Truth" that Al Gore spoke up about. The second fear was that it is easier for us as individuals and for our governments to hope that someone else will deal with the problem and that it would simply disappear. It won't. Even if those of us with the superb good fortune to live in this prosperous and educated part of the world were to leave today and move to Mars we would leave behind a home that has been damaged so badly by our past actions that those left behind would continue to struggle to survive and live well in it. I liked him.

3. On the way home, walking down Coney Street and handsome middle-aged race-gone gentleman was standing in the middle on the street insisting that the taxis wait behind him and give way to his sauntering and jolly promenade. He walked slowly and certainly along in his smart suit and his umbrella like a staff in front of him. Perhaps he was drunk or maybe he just wanted to take it slowly and enjoy the evening air. He was heroic. The taxi drivers eventually got angry and tried to overtake him. He was having none of it. A little comedic altercation ensued but I didn't wait around to see how the parade ended. I cheered him in my heat for his audacious little protest and walked on.

Man with a big pipe, Wigginton Road Nurseries stall and a smile from the heart

2008-05-29T13:23:00.006+01:00

1. A man was walking down Ousegate Bridge with a 12 foot length of black plastic waste water pipe he'd just scavenged from the building work going on at the old Veranda cafe. He had a big smile on his face (and he was cute too). It was a comedy scene from a Buster Keaton movie as he navigated the busy street, crossing the road, missing the windscreens of passing cars, just missing toppling an old giffer lady at the traffic lights and negotiating his doorway with his big pipe before disappearing as if by magic. It put a smile on my face and the people passing by and for once we also smiled at each other too. It was precious.

2. I bought some gorgeously scented, creamy-white stocks from the Wigginton Road Nurseries flower stall on Newgate Market for Joan. I think this bloke has the best stall on the market. Today he was also selling the prettiest bunches of English peonies. He always seems to have good stock and he's friendly and efficient. On Saturday mornings I often sit in the window of Pret a Manger which faces his stall and smile while having coffee. I always enjoy the people watching and particularly those who try to figure out which flowers to buy for their loved ones from this bloke.

3. I'm grateful to on-line friends who help get me through some tough stuff. I just offended someone though which makes me feel pretty stupid and sad. However I expect he will find that round the next corner there will be something wonderful. I'm usually pretty optimistic about that and today, in the lunchtime sunshine I felt that anything good could happen and I smiled and people smiled back. To my online friend, please accept a smile from the heart. Nothing better or less.

A little bit thicker, damp drizzle and simple beauties

2008-05-27T19:41:00.004+01:00

1. Before I went to work this morning I read through my posting yesterday and was tempted to take it off. It was a bit precious and silly and blurtie, and seemed a bit pretentious on reflection. In my defence, actually I don't have to be defensive at all, but if I had to be I'd say it poured out from my heart. I went to work listening to Rufus Wainwright singing "...everything it seems I like's a little bit stronger, a little bit thicker, a little bit harmful for me...." I say along as loudly as I could, probably a frightening sound for anyway within hearing distance and played it three times through. Anyhow the thing was that like he says in his song "...if I should buy jellybeans, have to eat them all in just one sitting..." and that's pretty much how I've been feeling this last few days. Greedy for more.

2. The weather is sort of changing in York, its been grey and slightly damp today. I love the misty damp rain. I was feeling sleepy in my office this afternoon so I got sent out for a stroll in the fresh air and the drizzle, it was lovely. I returned damp and refreshed and managed another couple of useful hours fiddling with my reports and trying against the odds to get them right.

3. I'm endlessly thrilled and amazed by an unexpected interest and kindness. I had three simple beauties today. On the way to get the fresh air I met one of my managers on the stairwell and we had a very fresh, almost flirty conversation about caring for customers, internal and external! Then there was a colleague who helped me complete a little task. There was a time when she wouldn't have given me a moments consideration but today we achieved a tiny miracle together and solved a problem. It was very unexpected. Finally, well hopefully not really finally a nice chap chatted on line with me for a bit, a complete stranger just passing the time of day. It was an encouraging few moments realising that there are great people to interact with all around me. Hooray!

4am, Lizzie's birthday and Until Forever

2008-05-26T21:15:00.009+01:00

1. At 4am I was awake to see and hear the dawn and felt it was a privilege to be alive. Once again I was reminded that there is potential for joy and humour at any moment and that the best of them are completely unexpected and gracious. The chances of being really intimate with people can sometimes seem so remote. I sat in the garden with a cup of tea thinking about the day and night past and felt full of a gooey warmth inside and realised that the world was a more beautiful place than yesterday. Exhaustion caught up with me and I went back to bed to sleep for a couple of hours.

2. I went off to Manchester to celebrate my niece Lizzie's fourth birthday. When I arrived my family were there to greet me with hugs and kisses and happiness. Lizzie was very excited to be the birthday girl. It was a very happy day, it was the very best of days. I met my nephew Denis for the first time. There was no shyness or reserve and this charming and beautiful little boy hugged me when I arrived as if we had always known each other with an unconditional sweetness that will be with me forever.

3. This was a day that was made immeasurably wonderful by being loved and cared for. Perhaps for the first time ever I felt I was part of my family. Probably that isn't so very remarkable but I spent almost no time with my brother as a child (we lived separately) and I met my sisters I only when we were nearly all adults and full of separate and non-converging lives. In the years since we met our lives have in some ways not been so very kind and opportunities to be together so few and so far apart that I can count and recall the occasions and events with little more than one hand. The last couple of days have been emotionally charged with surprises and turns of direction and understanding that I couldn't have predicted even if I had considered it a possibility. Today's three things are coded with experiences and feelings which are impossible for me to put adequately or meaningfully into words. And I find I feel ridiculously happy and sad all at once. Although I miss the friends and lovers I've lost touch with, respectfully and with great waves of love and passion I'm so grateful to them and those I spend my time with now. Until Forever loved ones.

Caramel, The Indian Lounge and My Calender

2008-05-25T15:53:00.006+01:00

1. I went to City Screen to see "Caramel" with Allan. It was really charming movie set in Beruit about four ladies who work in a hair salon and their friends. It's a funny and lovely little film about love and friendship. Nothing novel there you might think and perhaps it's also a fag chick flick I suppose although that's just a very stupid description. The bloke who wrote the screenplay for SATC was complaining on the radio that some people interpret that story as a thinly disguised tale of four gay men in New York (frocks, fucking can't fermember the third "f"). He Thought this was insulting to strong and determined independent women. Whatever. I'll go to see it anyway and probably enjoy the campness. "Caramel" was beautiful and described any group of friends who love each other. I had a great time, I actually laughed out loud. Not LOL. Actually out loud. Wonderful. Be warned though there are images of male and female leg waxing with warm caramel. Ouch!

2. Afterwards we went to eat at The Indian Lounge on Swinegate. It's my second trip there. The food is very good I think. No sloppy, oily sauces just fine and well spiced Indian/Aisian food of good quality with gentle and generous service. They don't seem to have a web page but my link takes you to a review from The Press which has all their details.

3. I often struggle to find a third beautiful thing. The first two are usually quite easy. But then I remind myself that I am surrounded by people and things that give me a lot of pleasure and help me to get on to whatever comes next. Allan was a big part of my day and he makes everything good for me. He's gone off to the south of France to a conference so I'm feeling a bit lonely without him here. I was looking through my collection of photographs from the last few years that we've been together. I tend to take pictures when we go away on holiday and I found some from a trip we made a few years back to Oregon and Washington State in North America. Looking through them gives me a warm glow of happiness and excitment. One of the things I enjoy the most is preparing an annual calender which I send out at Christmas as a way of keeping in touch with people and it usually has my favourite pictures from my trips with Allan. Amazingly my friends seem to have it up on the wall when I visit which gives me a kick. So today I was looking through my May and June calender pages at stuff marked up to do and people to see and it was beauwtiful.

Laura, making tea and Transformer

2008-05-23T01:06:00.002+01:00

1. Laura got a offered a job today which is fantastic news. She is one of the most talented and beautiful people I know. I agree that I have a certain amount of prejudice here...her creative work always astounds me with its originality, skill and humour. The portrait to the left is one she made for me and it's formed from origami flowers and mounted on canvas. I love this piece and it gives me joy every day. She will find the perfect context to share the wonderful objects she creates with other people and perhaps make a living from it. I look forward to that day, but until then I have the privilege of owning a few of her lovely pieces.

2. James suggested that I should add making tea for my colleagues at work as one of my happy three. A good suggestion because I do enjoy doing it. I think I'd be a good waiter...actually years ago I did a bit of busing at Mothers Cafe on the Kings Road in London. I can't really remember how well that went (or not) but I have thought that I would like to run a bed and breakfast sometime in the future. We have a friend called Jo on the Isle of Skye who has a B&B in Ullinish called Foxwood. She built her house which has beautiful and uninterrupted views of the Cuillins. The rooms are comfortable, the one we have stayed in has a sauna and jacuzzi in the bathroom. The breakfast is prepared by Jo with organic and (where possible) locally sourced ingredients and Jo is a generous and welcoming host. Her business is an inspiring model. I can imagine setting up a business like this in Scotland too. It's a dream for now so in the meantime I practice serving people with cups of tea. Hopefully I'll get the hang of it soon.

3. At the end of my working day I got chatting to Phil about iPod music...thanks to him I got to leave early today, which was a much appreciated kindness. He had accidentally download from iTunes a Bette Midler song...how is it possible to make that much of a mistake? He claimed that he was falling asleep whilst in the process and wasted 79p as result. OK. Whatever. I'd have been happy with a Bette Midler track but then I'm a raving queen...so today's music playing on the pod of joy was Lou Reed's "Transformer". Slightly oddly, the settings have changed so that the pod is playing the tracks of albums at random rather than in sequence. This is OK usually but somehow very wrong with Transformer. This is one of my 'perfect ten' albums that I would be happy to listen to until forever. I think it goes almost without saying to anyone who knows this record that the song "Perfect Day" is a small piece of heaven on vinyl. The drawing of the album cover is from the Flickr page of Jet-pac and is a truly brilliant interpretation of the original. Jet-pac's sketchbooks are phenomenal.

City Screen Bar, a Little Banging Hangover and Loaf of Jeremy

2008-05-22T18:54:00.016+01:00

1. City Screen Bar is far from cool but it is a good place to meet. The service is quite poor really and the food and drink is over priced even if you are a member and get your 10% discount, but there is something wonderful about it just the same. The view across the river to the ridiculous horrid Park Inn is not picturesque but its comforting. I went there last night to meet up with Sean to see a Finnish band play in the Basement Bar. We sat around and chatted and drank beers. It was pretty good, putting the world to rights, and somehow it got late and we missed the band. Eventually the bar was closing and we wandered off for a last pint and eventually ended up in the Punch Bowl pub on Stonegate. It was almost deserted, the football being over, another pint was downed and it was half past midnight. I excused myself and said "bon nuit" and wobbled off home. It was an evening full of friendliness and shedding caution and talking about stuff.

2. The consequence of drinking that much (not really that much but for me it was), was a banging little hangover when I woke up much too soon this morning. I felt a bit delicate but I had to journey to Leeds for a day of training at Civica. I was feeling a bit rough when I got off the train (which had been delayed by about 20 minutes) and had to make my way to the Dewsbury Road at some speed. I listened to Snow Patrol's album "Eyes Open" which along with the timely release of adrenaline got me there. Fortunately the trainer was a really excellent person called Pippa who I met earlier in the year at the Civica offices in Bath at another training. This lady is, in my opinion, a very effective and focused teacher. The day was productive and useful. I kept up a re-hydrating routine (which is still in force) and by the time the return journey came around I was definitely feeling like a much more balanced human.

3. I decided the thing that would complete the perfection that was Thursday would be to make a loaf of bread the Ian Wilson way....I made a reference to his You Tube video a few days back on how to make a loaf of bread. But having chatted to him I think he may have abandoned the hand made technique in favour of a bread machine. It's probably sensible. I am determined to get this bread-making thing conquered. So this evening I have made a loaf of bread which looks pretty good and will I hope eat well too. I'm feeling pretty grateful today that I have to time, energy and resources to do this on a whim. Ian's video was accompanied by the Scissor Sisters, mine was accompanied by a brilliant interview by Jon Snow on Channel Four 7 o'clock news with Gore Vidal. GV was bright and angry and made me laugh and cheer (I don't think he likes Mr Bush Jr that much).

Here is my finished loaf, it's hot, smells gorgeous

and I call him Jeremy.

John Hegley, Banksey and Chelsea gardens

2008-05-20T19:30:00.004+01:00

1. John Hegley's poems are unexpectedly great. Sean lent me two slim volumes: "Can I Come Down Now Dad?" and "Five Sugars Please". The latter contains a brilliant little poem which SOD pointed to as one he really likes and relates to. It's called "Talking about my feelings ain't my cup of tea". This little poem is a very elegant summary. Here's a few of lines I particularly like from it....
"....I keep my cards so near my chest
even I can't see the way I feel.
I used to be closer to my emotions
or maybe they were close to me.
In the past I've been very open
the last time was when I was twenty-three
months.
They say bashing pillows is beneficial
and it helps to hug a tree.
They say problems shared are problems halved
but they don't say it to me
because revealing how I'm feeling it isn't my Darjeeling".

2. Banksy is a hero. I like his work a lot. Sean was kind enough to give me his spare copy of "Wall and Piece" which is a collection of photographic images of Banksy's artwork graffiti published in 2006. Sean bought this book at a remaindered price which has a certain perfect irony to it. One of my favourite images (of many) is of the two policemen kissing. Years and lifetimes ago I lived in Nottinghill just off Portabello Road. I had a friend there, Geoff Marsh, a gorgeous human being who used to do typesetting for International Times and who had a thing for making (clever and intelligent) graffiti especially and particularly added as comments or additions to billboards. I should never had let that friendship slip away. I was horrible. Sorry Geoff. You are a diamond.

3. I think that Chelsea Flower show might be a bit overrated but I would say that as I have never yet been. I watched the television programme tonight on BBC2. One garden which won a gold and was incredibly beautiful. The Laurent-Perrier Garden designed by Tom Stuart-Smith. Green is this years green at Chelsea which makes me feel very cool because most of my garden is green too. And, incredibly, I meant it to be like that....I find both gardens beautiful. But mine is in York.

Dodeatheon, I know You're Married But I've Got Feelings Too and Freecycling

2008-05-19T20:28:00.011+01:00

1. Dodeatheon is a very beautiful little plant that grows in the damp patch. There are lots of very cheerful flowering plants in the garden today but this one is definitely the queen. I have been messing around with Flickr and thinking about uploading some of my photographs there. I've been inspired by other people's photoblogs but as Ian pointed out there's no point in posting them if nobody looks...oh well I'm going to do it anyway. And its Chelsea week too....

2. Martha Wainwright has made a new album "I know You're Married But I've Got Feelings Too". I'm loving this album on one play. Its made York a very fine audio place today. My favourite track is "Bleeding All Over You" which contains the brilliant line that makes up the album title. I seem to have a pretty low tolerance threshold with her brother Ruffet, (although I still can listen to his album "Poses" over and over again when the melancholy takes me over). Whatever this record has cheered me up today. Oooh! "You Cheated Me" another great track. Who could have predicted that Martha has been recording the events of my life? Enough! It's bweutiful.

3. York Freecycle is wonderful too. This morning I put a little 'wanted' request on the site and when I got home this evening a very kind gentleman in Acomb has kindly emailed to say that he has just the thing I need. I've offered stuff and been able to supply things which people have requested. Even though there is a general feeling in this house that we have just about all a reasonable person could want, Freecycle does offer a great opportunity for circulating the material manifestation points we call 'things'. The campaign to ignore the supermarkets is not going quite as well as I might have hoped. But as so often, it's better not to get attached to any one idea or plan. I think that it was an enlightened being who observed that the only thing you can reliably predict is that things will change. There might be some mileage in that thought. I'll have to think about it.

Red Chilli, Facebooking and Ian's brilliant bread video

2008-05-18T07:21:00.004+01:00

1. I went to the Red Chilli Chinese Restaurant last night on George Hudson Street on my return from Sussex and Kate's' funeral. I was hungry. Several days of polite conversation and delicately eaten meals was beginning to take its toll. Inside the restaurant the atmosphere is busy and happy. The waiting staff were friendly and attentive and there was no irritating questioning about whether or not i was having a good time. The menu is unusual. I don't go for Chinese food very often because its seems so predictable and standardised. This menu is anything but that. I had stir-fried frogs legs in Grandma's special spicy sauce with egg fried rice and a Chinese beer. It was historic. They brought slices of orange at the end which was very refreshing followed by Jasmin tea. We were there for a couple hours. It's a very good place and definitely a beautiful thing in York. We will go again as soon a there's a good reason to.

2. Facebook has been around for a while and I know that it's so over but...in order to be able to see Emma's college ball pictures I needed to join...along the way I discovered there are other people I know out there...who would have thought? Mr William in Cambodia!? It's beautiful. Yeh!

3. Ian's bread video is pretty good. Actually it's brilliant. My recent attempts at baking bread have been less than great. Much to the disappointment of those hoping for something delicious in this household. I read some articles by Hugh Fearnly-Thing in my Sussex friend Hilary's "Country Living" magazines while I was away. Hugh was trying to encourage people to buy local produce and make food real. It's a good idea (if you have the time, money, social values whatever). And then on the train home yesterday I read the Money section of the Guardian (I was desperate) and a very good piece about inflation and food prices...which went on to discuss how to save money and reach middle-class enlightenment through bread-making.

St Nicks, carbon copies and Cut//Copy

2008-05-12T20:13:00.019+01:00

1. St Nicholas Fields Environment Centre I was invited to the centre to meet with a group concerned to develop a business plan for the organisation. It had been quite a while since I had visited there and I had a chance to catch up with what has been going on there. Last year the group of people I work with went to the centre for a Team Green Away Day. It was pretty successful I think. I have a fondness for the centre and the ideas and ideals it promotes. Reducing my carbon footprint has become a working goal for my life and I'm always inspired by St Nick's.

2. The beauty of cc in an email is in choosing strategically who one chooses.

3. Cut//Copy "In Ghost Colours" this is a record which will probably become a big pop hit this summer. I really love it. The music is optimistic and fun and cheers me up when I'm on the way to work in the morning and makes me feel jolly when I'm on my way home.

Home, asparagus and chocolate cake

2008-05-11T22:06:00.003+01:00

1. Getting home after being away.

2. Asparagus in butter with salt.

3. Baking chocolate cake for Little Phil's birthday.

Worcseter cathederal, Malvern Hills and a earch for a Nigella whisk

2008-05-10T20:23:00.002+01:00

1. The crypt of Worcester Cathedral is quite fine. In fact the whole building is pretty spectacular. I had a good visit there today with Malcolm.

2. The sun was out and we walked to the highest point of the Malvern Hills. We were surrounded by gorgeous scenery across Worcestershire and surrounding counties. Malcolm was very happy to have walked to the top today and that made me happy too.

3. I searched Worcester for a replacement Nigella whisk…but there were none to be found. I therefore bought a wooden citrus squeezer. So much for my anti-materialism. I’m sure it will be very useful.

Auntie Em, a vicarette and a Ghanaian mortar

2008-05-09T21:47:00.000+01:00

1. Auntie Em passed away just over a week ago and she was 99 years old nearly 100. She was one of the most inspiring people I’ve been fortunate enough to spend time with this lifetime. I probably met her about six or seven times. She wasn’t my auntie in a genetic sense, fact is she wasn't genetically connected to most of the people who called her “Auntie” but the status was a universal one. The last time I saw her, Allan and I turned up at her house to visit on the wrong day but it wasn’t a problem…she was there sitting in her chair wearing her pearls and polite black court shoes and a tasteful twin set, glamorous, beautiful and very bright. She was unconditionally accepting and interested in everything and everyone. She was a truly modern human being who had seen almost all of the 20th century and had embraced the 21st with extraordinary vigour and interest. I treasure the influence this person has had on my life and I will continue to rely on her enthusiasm for inspiration and hopefulness.

2. The funeral service was led by a vicarette. She was very beautifully turned out, power-dressed in a smart well-fitted black skirt and jacket, careful make-up and very nicely coiffured hair. She had a lovely smile and spoke warmly and generously. Turns out she was from Dallas, Texas and had been in Wath for the last three years and used to be an executive with AT&T. I was grateful for the chat and the smile and the flirting. I might have suggested that she looked a little like Linda Gray. She took it pretty well, for which I am of course grateful.

3. Later at Malcolm’s house I ground up some cumin and garlic and other spices in his Ghanaian mortar with a wood pestle which is the photograph. This is a wonderful handmade terracotta bowl with a spiral of ridges on the inside. It works perfectly. I want one. It’s a beautiful thing.

Merchant Taylors Hall, interesting colleagues and the Oriental Supermarket

2008-05-08T16:48:00.000+01:00

1. The Merchant Taylor's Hall in Aldwark is an amazingly comfortable venue for meetings. I went to a 'diversity and equalities' theatre training thingy there today. A group of actors from Leeds performed a little play about how Council officer Tony deals with a complaint from a white trash slag called Brenda against handsome Mr Ali Shah the new proprietor of the local kebab house. The idea was for the audience to participate by stopping the action of the play and suggesting ways in which the interaction could be improved or to discuss the motives and underlying prejudices involved. I enjoyed the experience. It was good for me to realise that many of the colleagues there were so actively commited to fairness and honesty and that was demonstrated by comments and a few brave characters who got up to help act out the play. I actually managed to contribute something. Hooray!

2. The people I sat with were interesting and talkative. I was grateful for that because I've been to this sort of event before where people form into their natural working groups and don't interact. To my right was a very nice lady who works in the Guildhall and we chatted briefly about the Steve Galloway story. I asked if he was stepping down "to spend more time with his family"....but apparently not. I asked if he was"tired and emotional?"....apparently not. It seems he's feeling it's time for someone else to take the lead...OK. To my left was a colleague I have met a couple of times before we got chatting about homoeopathy and it turns out she like me trained and worked as a lay practitioner and had like me given it up (for quite different reasons though). We discussed the benefits of psychoimmuniology and discovered that we had a joint admiration for the Indian homoeopath Rajan Sankaran. Its good to talk, its always good to talk.

3. At lunchtime I went with a colleague from work to the little oriental food market in the Chinese shop just over Ouse Bridge. This little establishment is a treasure. The people in the shop are friendly, bemused and helpful. We were buying some stuff from the oriental food market part of the shop to make up a wok basket birthday gift for Little Phil's 21st birthday with a collection of money gathered from the office. They also sell some very groovy costume jewelry and oriental nicknack's.

Wild Hart, Spring Sunshine and Birkenstocks

2008-05-07T18:18:00.009+01:00

1. Wild Hart is an excellent little shop at 21A Stonegate. It is one of my very favourite places in York to buy a little present, or find an unusual card or get the very best wrapping paper. York is supposed to be a great place for tourists to browse and purchase, I'm not convinced because most of the traps are dull, quotidian rip-offs with objects that you could probably find in any town. This shop is rustic and quaint which fits the bill but also quirky and actually friendly in an unexpected way. I went in there today in need of some birthday cards and was delighted once again to find some gooduns. The man at the till who's called Ian, is smiley and chatty and I've spoken to his partner on previous visits and she is really lovely too. I get a lot of pleasure coming here and I'm really grateful for the unusually genuine welcome.

2. The Spring sunshine has been wonderful during the last two days and I am blown away by how quickly people come out of the dowdy shells and break out in tee-shirts, shorts and aviators and smile as if they had perhaps not long done something pretty naughty or at at least planning to have fun very directly.

3. Which brings me to the joy that will be wearing my old Birkenstock sandals. I think I must have bought my current pair in about 1985 and I've worn them ever since here at home and all over the world from Hawaii to Lewis. They have completely moulded themselves to my feet so that when I slip them on they feel summery and happy. Today I was recommending them to my friend Sean at work and it's time for me to buy some new ones too.

Bank Holiday, Emma's 19th Birthday and telephone conversations

2008-05-05T19:38:00.000+01:00

1. Bank Holiday Monday with sunshine.

2. Emma's 19th birthday. Happy Birthday Beautiful.

3. Long telephone conversations with friends in which we catch up with current gossip and remember the past generously.

Euphorbias, beetroot and cutting through spiritual materialism

2008-05-04T21:48:00.012+01:00

1. This afternoon we went to visit the National Collection of Euphorbias on an allotment at Harthill near Sheffield. The collection is the work of a retired school teacher Don Witton. He has made an incredible garden on the corner of an otherwise pretty ordinary group of allotment. Mr Witton has been opening his garden to the public and privately for some time. I really love this genus and I have grown some plants from seed and Allan and I have planted others purchased from growers and garden centres. Mr Witton had quite a lot of plants for sale, but to be honest the best had gone by the time we arrived. I did however manage to by one (E. myrsinites) that we used to have in the garden but which died last year. The plant in the picture we think was E. x martinii. Later we went to Dobbies Garden Centre at Barlborough. This was a huge, sanitised garden centre, teaming with Bank Holiday weekend customers. I found another beautiful compact euporbia known as 'Tiny Tim" and it was bought for us by Allan's cousin who we went with. I am very fond of these plants and consider each of them to be jewel-treasures of our garden.

2. We went to Margaret's for tea afterwards and had a lovely spread. I especially enjoyed the pickled beetroot. I'd like to think it came directly from the row in her vegetable patch but I think Tesco is more likely. It was very fine though and reminded me that there are some things like the luxury of pickled beetroot for which I will be always grateful. Margaret was kind enough to give us three cherry tomato plants and let me dig up some Alchemilla for her garden to bring home for ours. Allan wonders if it might be A. vulgaris which is the commonest British species and just subtly different from A. mollis that we have all over our garden.

3. My third beautiful thing was to forgive myself for not getting it together to write yesterday. Nobody but me reads this stuff anyway so it hardly matters. Being attached to anything seems to be unwise. If the last week has taught me anything that can be summed up it might be contained in the title of a long-lost book by the slightly discredited Chogyam Trungpa Rimpoche "Cutting through spiritual materialism".

Made in Italy, bacon sandwiches and forget-me-nots

2008-05-02T18:54:00.000+01:00

1. This is probably the best Italian cookbook I've ever come across. I like this book because Locatelli talks about why he enjoys eating and preparing food. His recipes are straightforward (mostly) and include instructions like "When you feel you are almost there...." (about making risotto). The book is full of passionate and loving descriptions of ingredients, and buying them and fiddling with them. The photographs are very generous and sensual. The images of handsome, proud suppliers particularly at the beginning of the book was enough for me to take it home just for the pictures. This one is a keeper.

2. Bacon sandwiches on Friday morning in the office is up there with my very favourite things in life which also remind me how very fortunate I am to be here. We usually go across the road to Sannies on George Hudson Street. They have recently moved two doors down into a new shop. It's very clean and bright now, but that's OK. Actually there is really nothing especially remarkable about this place except that it is absolutely honest. There are no frills. I went with an order for eight or ten people so I had to wait for a while as the sandwiches were being prepared. There was a queue out of the door, of workmen mostly, it was fantastic eye-candy entertainment for a Friday morning. The waitress flirted with one of them in particular, he blushed very appealingly.

3. The forget-me-nots are in full bloom in our garden which seems so appropriate this week.

Kate, thankfulness and Sigur Ros Takk

2008-05-01T20:45:00.005+01:00

1. My dear friend Kate Weaver passed away this morning.

She was one of the kindest and loveliest people I have known. I first met her when I was a teenager and she has been an inspiration and influence on my life ever since. Kate had many lives within this one. She was a courageous artist. She was a great teacher. She was a very patient and kind listener. She kept secrets and gave sympathy. I feel especially honoured to be able to count her as a dear friend and mentor. The love and lessons she provided me were generous and realistic and I hope I can return that beautiful favour to others in the future.

2. I called Kate's daughter when I got this news. Whatever one says it doesn't really sum up how you feel. Well it didn't for me. I rather awkwardly said "I am so sorry for your news". C came back immediately saying "I'm not sorry, I'm happy for her" and at once I understood exactly what she was expressing. Joy and thankfulness that this woman had been in our lives.

3. The Sigur Ros album Takk seemed the appropriate music of the day and I felt somehow elevated and enlightened by it. I thought how wonderful life is with music in it.

Blurting, eating again and something useful

2008-04-30T22:22:00.007+01:00

1. I'm known in my house as a "blurter". I find it difficult not to pour out my feelings and secrets. Actually I have remarkably few secrets although I'm not sure how I'd judge quantity or quality against any one else. This evening I was in a blurter state and my friend Peter was kind enough to listen and counsel me wisely. I am very grateful for that time and and consideration.

2. I had dinner for the first time in days. I've been on the border of really not very well since Sunday and unable to eat very much. So the meal I made this evening tasted wonderful. I love cooking. And I really like cooking for other people.

3. I figured out how to do something useful in Excel today and how to explain it to someone else. I think that had a good bit of beauty to it.

Thank goodness, Little Phil and unconditional friendship

2008-04-29T23:39:00.005+01:00

1. Today was a better day. Thank goodness, it was all around me today..
2. Little Phil asked me to bake him a cake for his 21st birthday. I feel really good that he would be comfortable enough to ask me to do this for him...I 'm looking forward to it.
3. My on-line friend Peter turned up just as I was ready to go to bed (and not bother to write my TBT's). He's a sweetie. I am so grateful to him for his unconditional and patient friendship.

Experience, potential mistake and achieving some wisdom

2008-04-28T16:20:00.003+01:00

1. I probably had a near miss today and I'm putting it down to experience.
2. I think I could potentially have made a big mistake, but I'm grateful I didn't (it was close though).
3. I definitely got sad but I'm relying on achieving some wisdom from it.

Two ducks, the Ikea queue and chocolate nemesis

2008-04-27T19:43:00.015+01:00

1. There were two ducks on the grass in the garden this morning. I'm guessing they are the ones who were living across the road in the garden of the naughty neighbour. (His 'naughtiness' is a potential "beautiful things" candidate for another time, in case anyone should wonder or care). He has a square concrete formal pond in his front patch which these two had claimed for their own. I've enjoyed (for so many reasons) watching him chasing them out. In the last few days I noticed that he had put a metal grill over the pond. Perhaps to save children from drowning but I think its more likely that he is attempting to evict the ducks. The comic irony for me is that he has two hilarious grey (possibly plastic ducks) that float about slightly aimlessly on the little pond. They've gone too. Anyway this morning the ducks appeared in my back garden in the rain looking quite settled. There isn't a proper pond so I very much doubt they will stay but I was very happy to see them anyway. I'm just hoping that Mrs Norris doesn't have a go at them.

2. The queue in Ikea at Leeds can be frustrating. But I enjoy the few minutes rest it provides between the browsing for yet more stuff and the return home to find somewhere to put it. Today, mindful of my recent allegiance to 'enoughism' I decided (perhaps not quite for the first time) to make this my last ever trip there. In my head I needed just one more object to make this little house complete. I found the perfect thing and we had a cuppa tea in the restaurant. Then there was the queue. Ikea have little signs saying that they aim to get you through in eight minutes. It's a perfect amount of time to enjoy observing the behaviours of the other happy shoppers. The woman in front looked around and apologised for the lack of conveyor belt dividers. She did this several times despite the fact that she had so much stuff there was no room for my purchase. She had a pile of useful objects which ended (on the conveyor) with a pink ice cream scoop. "It was only 99p, what a bargain?" she enthused. I didn't actually consider running back along the yellow brick road to find one for myself but it was nice that she shared this find with me. I drifted for a bit to the handsome and not so handsome men, perhaps partners of the keen lady purchasers.I relish the time stuck in queues or on trains or before the film starts at the cinema when one gets a chance to people watch. I'm very grateful for the voyeuristic opportunity to dip into a moment of someone else's life. It's a bit creepy I suppose, but wonderfully free and with no apparent material responsibility, unlike the wooden slated venetian blind I know own from Ikea.

3. Being invited to Sunday lunch is a pretty good treat. Today was no exception. We were invited by friends who live in Wakefield to come for a meal. Firstly it is always good to catch up and gossip about everyone we know and then it's wonderful to have food cooked by someone else. We were served the very finest sweet I've had in a long time. My friend described it as 'chocolate nemesis' a recipe adapted from one in the River Cafe Cookbook. Adapted because the one in the book doesn't work by all accounts. But this version was about perfect. It was something between cake and mouse which melted, quite literally in the mouth. One slice provided heavenly sufficiency without the feeling that one had overindulged. Thank you Joan.

Saturday routine, Love Your Art and Mrs Norris makes a kill

2008-04-26T16:53:00.000+01:00

1. I started my Saturday routine rather late. I am a person of habit in some things and visiting the centre of York to buy the Saturday Guardian, have a cup of coffee and wander around Barnetts is a safe one. This little weekly event gives me a great deal of pleasure. I enjoy the newspaper. I read some of it immediately, but I like going through each section and looking for things I will read later. I often start in the magazine and read (without waiting till later) Alex Petridis tiny column on men's fashion, just because its always funny. Then I often read out loud "The Measure", it's completely vacuous. Next I might turn to the Family section and catch up with the mad woman who writes "Living with Teenagers". She makes me feel better about my past parenting skills both successful and pathetic. And finally I would probably take in Ben Goldacres' column "Bad Science". This weeks rant is about the vitamin business and since I some connection to it in the past I read it with a smirk. All of this takes the length of time I need to drink my fresh orange juice, my latte and eat my almond croissant with Allan. As I write this I realise how very happy this silly little routine makes me and how precious it is to me and how grateful I am to be able to do it without thinking.

2. We went down Coney Street looking for action. There wasn't much. A few boarded-up shop fronts and Lush exhaling an overwhelming odour. But just as we were about to turn for home we came to a new shop Love Your Art. A very nice person greeted us. She was dressed with sufficient eccentricity to suggest that she might be an artistic type. She was friendly and chatty. The work in the gallery is not amazingly original but there were some very pretty things including some photographs by Yukio Namba of "Japanesie" scenes printed on hand made paper. Upstairs there was one painting in particular that I really liked by a bloke called Ian Rawling who paints a bit like L S Lowry but with fatter people. The best idea they had was sticky-backed plastic wall art. Fablon lives hooray! Basically they can digitally print art (or even bits of it) on the sticky backed plastic which you can use like very expensive wallpaper. They can also do it with fabric. This is art that you can therefore change when ever you get fed up with it. I'm guessing this is a chain store even though it looks more authentic. I was very taken with the printed fabric and Fablon though and glad to find something new on a street that seems to be having a hard time.

3. My third event is perhaps a bit of a strange one to record as something I feel grateful for. In the late afternoon one of the cats, Mrs Norris was spotted with a half dead wood pigeon in her mouth which she was proceeding to finish off and devour. My first reaction was horror and then fascination. Mrs Norris is a tiny cat who has a very scary glint in her eye and a insatiable desire to catch her prey. I did consider for a moment trying to intervene but I could see that it was too late for the unfortunate bird so I left her to skulk into the wild woodland that is the back of our garden. I must say I was impressed and happy that she is being a real hunter and clearly in her post-modernist, radical feminist element. Mr Tumnus on the other hand was doing what he does best, sleeping curled up but with one limp wrist dangling down, camp as tits.

Millionnaires biscuit, sage seedlings and niavete

2008-04-25T19:29:00.004+01:00

1. There was difficult news for some people in my office yesterday about a pay regrading review. I decided to make some very sweet shortcake to take into the office to cheer people up. The shortcake was appreciated and so much so that there were several people with severe sugar overload. I think it helped. The recipe I followed was from Tom Norrington-Davies' book "Just Like Mother Used To Make". He used to be chef at the Eagle. This is a great little cookbook with meals and treats that are pretty standard British fare. Everything works though and this is a particularly good sweet biscuit which is made of butter shortbread with a layer of soft toffee caramel and topped with milk chocolate. It was fabulous.

2. My sage seedlings are a very small beautiful thing but they have given me a good deal of simple pleasure. I planted the seeds nearly three weeks ago and I had almost given up on them but now I have a load of two leafed plants. I'm not that fond of this herb but I'm thinking that they make good bedding plants, so I'm looking forward to them in the summer.

3. I am grateful today for being able to laugh at and acknowledge my naivete and my self indulgence in the past. Both these elements of my behaviour have and continue to provide good lessons in compassion and humility. These are on-going lessons as I continue to be niave and self indulgent, but these days I just notice a little quicker.

Sheffield Town Hall, PICNIC, Sheaf water feature

2008-04-24T22:22:00.007+01:00

1. I went to Sheffield today to a meeting of database users in the Town Hall. So today my first beautiful thing has to be that building which was impressive, comfortable and old in a good way. The meeting was held in the Nelson Mandella Room which has a balcony the looks out onto a big square in the middle of the city. There is a lot of wood panelling and tiled floors and a grand staircase. It occurred to me that Allans grandmother probably used to visit this building.

2. PICNIC = Problem In Chair Not In Computer. This is apparently a popular IT support department code, it made me laugh out loud.
.

.
3. There was a beautiful water sculpture by the station at Sheffield and as I came down the hill this evening it was looking magnificent.

A shark joke, being here now and twinkling

2008-04-23T16:40:00.000+01:00

1. One of the removal men had been a joker on the day of the move. One of his jokes was told over and again several times yesterday and although everyone seemed to think it wasn't that good we all laughed together each time it was told. There is something beautiful about a group of Council workers laughing together.... "why did the shark use a mobile phone?"..."because he had blue tooth".

2. I went to the hospital to visit my friend who has been there for five weeks now. It was good to share smiles and be able make jokes and gossip about work. He was positive and bright despite feeling low earlier in the day. Whenever I go I come away feeling better about myself. It's quite a selfish feeling. I realise (again) that what comes next might be uncomfortable and harsh but it could as easily be healthy and bright. Ram Dass' slightly cliched aphorism "Be Here Now" seemed more realistic than ever.

3. After that moment of elevated consciousness i strode very purposefully down Gillygate and tired to make twinkle eye contact with each passer by. One bloke looked at me very cautiously. Most people just ignored me or pretended not to notice. I got a buzz from it though.

Red-headed man, gossiping and a stroll through Museum Gardens

2008-04-22T20:01:00.006+01:00

1. I helped to move my office today from one building to another on the same street. At my new desk I have a view down Rougier Street which is bustling and breezy. Walking through the new building and past a slightly grumpy group of co-workers from another department, a handsome red-headed man smiled at me. It made the journey much happier. Thank you.

2. I walked over to Barnetts with a work mate to buy something for the new office. We hadn't seen each other for a while (he's been at another office), we chatted about music (The Foals, and Camille and I boringly raved about the Kooks), then discussed food and HFEA and Chinese dinners and finally we gossiped about people we both know (but I'm too discrete to reveal what was said...obviously). It was a treat to hang out with him again.

3. After finishing a bit later than usual at work I strolled across Museum Gardens. The sun seemed to be twinkling through the trees, people were laughing and playing football, children ran about crazy and a couple were locked in a romantic embrace under the Multiangled Tower. I felt good and optimistic.

A nice bloke, The Kooks and mowing the lawn

2008-04-21T18:39:00.002+01:00

1. I was chatting last night to a really nice bloke on the internet. Remembering the conversation made me smile out loud to myself all day.

2. On the way home I listened on my ipod to The Kooks from their new album Konk "Do You Wanna?" and I laughed out loud with the rest of York.

3. I came home and mowed the grass. It smells wonderful. I am still chuckling out loud in the garden as I write this. Thanks.

Enough, car boot sale scarf and beef stew

2008-04-20T19:09:00.001+01:00

1. This morning I finished reading Enough: Breaking free from the world of more by John Naish. City of York Libraries have a copy. I was inspired by his mention of a blog by Clare Grant called Three Beautiful Things.

2. I went with our house guests to the Sunday car boot sale at Murton. There wasn't anything very much I really wanted to buy for which I was grateful and good because I had just finished reading the above. I did however liberate a beautiful ladies scarf for 20p which will be a fine gift wrap for the next birthday present we give.

3. This afternoon I made a shin of beef with ginger and soy stew adapted from Fearlessly Eatsitall's recipe in The Guardian magazine yesterday. It was delicious. I bought shin of beef from the excellent meat stall on the market and I served it with stir-fried matchsticks of butternut squash, courgette and carrot, egg noodles and spinach. I found the whole chilli but realised that my meal might not have been quite so beautiful if I had eaten it whole. Thanks Hugh.