Hospitality

I ended up in deepest Kent last night, and I'm back here again this evening, the grateful recipient of the kind hospitality of my brother and his family. My search for any sort of realistically affordable accommodation within a reasonable distance of my new workplace has been an abject failure so far, so I'm onto Plan B, at least temporarily, of a very long commute instead. There's going to have to be a Plan C at some stage, something more permanent, if there's any chance of making this return to working away from home practicable, but quite what form Plan C will take remains to be seen. My new manager has arranged for me to go on a briefing day on Friday, which is in a relatively user-friendly location from my perspective, and starts late enough to make it accessible by train from home, so I'm going to get to go back to sunny Cornwall a day early this week, which, needless to say, has cheered me up considerably - I'll be home, given a fair wind, at around 5:00 tomorrow evening, and about the same time, all being well, after my day trip by train on Friday.
In our adult lives, I've always got on very well with my brother - we had the commonplace sibling rivalry as kids and teens, but luckily soon grew out of it - but I still count myself very lucky that he's put his spare room at my disposal at such short notice (about 2 hours notice last night). I hope I'll be able to reciprocate in some way - I know he's giving without expectation of a 'reward', but it would be nice if I can find some suitable means of repaying him before too long.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

The new chapter

Well, here I am sitting at Newlands Corner on the North Downs enjoying the view by way of helping to fill in time between shifts in my new job. The job itself is fine, I've set about some serious training already, the new work colleagues (at least those I've met so far) and the working environment are fine, but, there is, needless to say, the elephant in the room - the 16 hours a day on my own during which I need to occupy myself. The laptop helps, but the battery doesn't hold a vast amount of charge, so the most I can manage online is 90 minutes or so before I have to find a way of charging it up again - mostly with the in-car adapter so far.
I know 2 days is probably a bit premature to make a judgment, but I've got a feeling that this move is going to be quite tough for me on a personal level - all in all, I'd much rather be at home. It would probably be an exaggeration to say that I was homesick, but initial impressions seem to be that it's worse this time around than on my previous move 'up country' in 2002. It's probably not helping that the accommodation situation doesn't seem to want to come together at the moment - I can't find anywhere affordable that wouldn't mean commuting ridiculous distances, the cost of which would more than counterbalance the savings made on the accommodation. I'll keep looking out, though, and hope for the best.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Ready, but not ready

In practical terms, I'm pretty much ready to head up to London and my new job tomorrow - there are clothes and the like still to pack, but that's a quick job, given my years of experience of working away in the past. On a personal level, though, I'm not at all enthusiastic about the prospect of being away from my home and family, to the extent I've actually been quite down over the weekend, particularly today. I know, rationally, that I've had little choice other than to follow this course of action, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. No doubt it will all become routine after a few weeks, assuming nothing unforeseen intervenes to complicate matters. It's going to be an early start for me in the morning, as well - I don't need to be at my new workplace until 10:00, and I was originally planning to leave at 5:00, but, on reflection, leaving at that time, I'll get to Greater London right in the throes of the worst of the rush hour, so I'm going to leave an hour earlier, and perhaps use the extra time at the other end to treat myself to a leisurely breakfast.
Cutie of the day was undoubtedly the pretty, dimply, brown-haired boy spotted with his family at the supermarket at lunchtime - they seemed be going down every aisle we were going up, and vice versa, so I saw quite a bit of the boy, which was a little oasis of sweetness on an otherwise rather downbeat day.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Preparations

I spent this morning in doing some bits and pieces preparatory to my relocation to London on Monday. I can't claim to have vast amounts to do to be ready for my new situation. so spreading it out over the weekend seems reasonable, rather than rushing about madly on Sunday. Amongst other things, I finally bit the bullet and went to the barbers' - I really, really dislike having my hair cut, and have since I was primary school age, but someone of my age wandering about with wild hair just looks ridiculous, so I have to submerge my qualms every now and again and force myself to be shorn.
It was one of those days where activity was counterpointed with relaxation - after a fairly busy morning, I had a very laid back afternoon, before regaling the family with one of my mix and match evening meals which seemed to go down reasonably well, and then heading back to chillout mode by forcing myself to drink some nice Chardonnay that just happened to be in the fridge. Much better than the late shift in my old job that I would've been doing had my circumstances not changed. It's a tough life, but someone's got to do it!

Love & best wishes
Sammy B

Escapology

After four years and eight months, to the day - I started on January 23rd 2006, as I confirmed this morning - I've finally escaped from my imprisonment in my current job. The sense of a weight lifting from my shoulders as I drove away from the place for the last time just after 1:30 this afternoon was almost palpable. The new job will have its pressures and less than ideal aspects, of course, not least the time I'm going to be spending away from home, but at least I'm not going to be making my way into work, especially for late shifts, with a sense of foreboding about what might happen.
The day wasn't without its bittersweet elements - driving close to DBJ's house early this morning and knowing that it would almost certainly the last time I'd be anywhere near him was a sad moment, while seeing one of the younger local cuties, who's now graduated to senior school ranks, looking very grown up and even more attractive in his nice new school uniform, was at least a minor consolation prize.
I'm not sure whether it's because they wanted to wish me well, or make sure I was definitely going, but not only my manager but my manager's manager turned up within a few minutes of each other towards the end of my shift. We parted on reasonable terms - I don't want to burn all my bridges, after all - but they were left in no doubt of my disenchantment about having wasted almost two years waiting for what they knew to be a non-existent vacancy, as well as the extra 3 months I've been kept hanging about waiting to be released. I suppose I should take the charitable stance and acknowledge that neither of them actually needed to come and see me today - there was no paperwork or other formalities to be completed, with my moving on an internal promotion - so the fact that they appeared is at least some sort of recognition of my contribution over the last few years.
So, it's time to look forward. In terms of the job I'll be doing, there's far more interest in my new job - it's one of the busiest in my line of work anywhere in the country, with remuneration to match - but the domestic side of things could be problematic, though, as I've said before, we'll have to find a way of making it work, for financial reasons, if not for any other. From a personal standpoint, I've got the opportunity to take advantage of the many interesting cultural experiences that the London area has to offer, many of them without the need to spend too much money, and, unlike my last spell of working away from home, I've got reliable access to the internet to allow me to keep in touch with my family and the wider world without breaking the bank on mobile phone tariffs. I have no expectation of getting involved in any wild social whirl, because that really isn't my style, but knowing that just about any kind of food, drink and entertainment anyone could imagine is available in the area, albeit some of it at prohibitive prices, is another element of metropolitan spice which isn't unwelcome, especially if I can find ways of involving my family in the fun from time to time. A new chapter, certainly - I just hope it's going to be a happy one.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Intolerance

There seems to be a lot of it about at the moment. It certainly doesn't seem to be a good time to be anywhere outside of the 'mainstream'. Atheists are 'parasites', elements of the Republican party in the US (and doubtless their fellow travellers in this country) want to recriminalise homosexuality, the head of a major world religious sect has been in this country espousing his organisation's bigoted, misogynistic creed, even voters in proverbially tolerant and liberal Sweden have voted for a racist, nationalist party in significant numbers. When are people going to realise that there's only one hominid species on this planet, of which diversity is a intrinsic characteristic, and that we've got to learn to live together or we'll surely die together. There's plenty of talk about looking for intelligent life out in the wider universe, perhaps we should start by trying to foster a bit of intelligence on this planet first.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Autumnal

I know it's still officially summer for another day or two, but there's a distinct tinge of autumn in the air today. It's quite bright and sunny, but it's substantially cooler outside than it appears from the comfort of the great indoors. Winter has never been my favourite time of year, so this little reminder that it's on its way is less than welcome. Perhaps it's a sign of impending old age that the prospect of months of dark evenings and indifferent weather makes my heart sink - a reminder of my own mortality, maybe, given that I'm more or less two-thirds of the way to the average life expectancy for a man in this country. It's a bit bizarre, really, thinking of being in the latter half of my life, because, psychologically, I still feel quite young. I've retained a good deal of intellectual curiosity, I'm still pretty good at learning new things, I'm an inveterate game player - I've even still got a streak of almost juvenile irresponsibility, although I do manage to keep it under control most of the time. Knowing there will come a time, though, where everything that I am, everything I've done and all my memories of those events will be extinguished forever is a disconcerting prospect. It's the same for us all, of course, but the 'so much to do, so little time' dichotomy is one from which there's no chance of escape. I guess the answer is to make the most of the time you've got, and to try to make a positive contribution in some way, even if it's only in looking after your family in the best way you can.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

I'd like to come up with something sparkling, but....

...I'm struggling. I've spent the first two days of my long weekend doing as little as possible, and the malaise seems to have infiltrated my brain as well as my body. I've been in real 'couch potato' mode today, partly through indolence and partly through still not feeling as well as I might - I seem to have picked up a chesty cold now, probably because my immune system was compromised by the previous infection, which means I'm now coughing left, right and centre. The blog seems to have degenerated into some poor impersonation of a daytime medical soap opera, but that's just the way things have been for me of late. The only hope is that I'm getting all of these bugs out of my system before the end of next week, so I can embark on the new job in some sort of reasonable health.
The most interesting hour of the day was taken up with a wide-ranging, in a fairly random sort of way, conversation with my daughter this evening. We didn't solve any major world problems, needless to say, but just to chat in a vaguely 'stream of conciousness' sort of way was stimulating enough. I don't want to sound like some kind of elitist intellectual snob, but I'm really glad that my daughter has turned out to be as bright as she has, and is willing and able to hold an intelligent discussion. She might hold my senility at bay yet!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

150 not out

I wish I could've said that in my cricket playing days! The best score I ever managed in a serious competitive match was 13, which sums up my batting skills pretty succinctly. At least I could bowl a little bit - my off spinners did actually spin every now and then.
My 150th post, then, something that seemed impossibly distant when I started blogging at the end of February. The irony is that I haven't really got anything significant or substantive to say. Maybe I'll just meander a bit, and see where the post goes.
My impending job move obviously leads to a longer term assessment of what I want to do and where I want to be over the next few years. The main determining factor in how long I have to stay in my new job is money. The object of the exercise is to resuscitate our ailing finances, and how long that takes self-evidently depends on two factors - how much I'm going to earn, and how much we spend. There's already a rumour about a possible school trip to Finland for my daughter's year some time in the spring, which certainly wouldn't be cheap, and that's leaving aside various things that need doing in and around the house which have consistently been put off in favour of paying the monthly bills over the last few years. Aside from anything really off the wall happening (like a winning lottery ticket), I can't see it taking less than 4 or 5 years to regain our financial equilibrium, by which time I'll be around 55. At that stage, to be honest, my main ambition is likely to be early retirement. My dad died when he was 59, less than a year after he'd retired (largely on health grounds), and I have to say I've no wish to follow in his footsteps. It would certainly be nice to be able to give up work while I've still got a bit of life left in me, and I would certainly have no problem in finding things to do to occupy my time - one of my main hassles in life is that there never seem to be enough hours in the day!
Another ambition I still harbour some hope of achieving is to write stories that others might like, perhaps even to the point of coming up with something saleable. I've written one or two things that I consider to be reasonably good, although, of late, I seem to be struggling to get past the early stages of anything new. Genuine inspiration seems to be an insurmountable problem at the moment, and, at least in my case, no amount of perspiration can replace that missing spark. I'm not despondent, though - if I've come up with good stuff before, I can do it again.
Finally, I'd like to take the opportunity of another milestone for my blog to thank all those who've taken the time and trouble to read and comment on my blog over the last 7 months. I really appreciate every one of you and the encouragement that your interest gives me.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Made it...but with a little sadness

My temptation of fate earlier in the day didn't rebound on me - my last late shift in my present job passed virtually without incident. Would that some other days had been so benign. I still would have wanted/needed to have moved on, but it might, at least, have been less stressful.
At the risk of repeating myself, though, there was one aspect of today which I wish had gone differently - today was, unless some very unlikely scenario plays out, the absolute last chance saloon as far as seeing DBJ one last time was concerned. And I didn't, needless to say. I've got a well-stocked mental photograph album from the past four years or so, and I know that as long as my psychological faculties are intact that I'll never forget the boy - he'll always be 'the boy' in my head, just like his predecessor from Greater Manchester, the blond delight who'll now be in his early forties - but a last glimpse would have been so nice. Not to be, though, so I need to move on and think about the positives, and try, I guess, not to allow myself to get into any more one-sided, borderline obsessive, entanglements like this one.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

A new gadget...and another step closer to moving

I had a new mobile broadband gadget (I hate the word 'dongle', which seems to be the industry standard) delivered this morning, and it's now up and running, pretty effectively I have to say. The reason that we've now got two gadgets is that I need to take one with me when I move to my new job, so I can keep in touch with my family without spending a fortune on phone calls, and so I can keep up to date with the rest of the world via cyberspace, while still allowing my daughter to have access via the old gadget at home, so she can use the internet for homework and keep in touch with her friends via the usual social networking channels.
I got through my penultimate late shift in my present job without incident yesterday, and I'm got my fingers firmly crossed for a repeat performance this afternoon and evening. No doubt I'm tempting fate sorely by saying such a thing at this stage - the next ten hours or so will tell. After that, I've just got two early shifts to do next week, and it will all be over, and I'll be able to go and hide in a Greater London ivory tower for the foreseeable future.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Five to go

I now know that I've only got 5 more shifts to work in my present job until I can make my escape. I spoke to the roster clerk this morning and she was able to confirm I've got my two days leave at the end of next week. That leaves an early shift tomorrow, my last two late shifts on Wednesday and Thursday, then two more early shifts next Wednesday and Thursday after my long weekend, and that will be that. Four years and eight months, almost to the day, since I first arrived on what was originally supposed to be a three month temporary transfer on domestic grounds. Funny how these things tend to mushroom!
One of the arguably beneficial side effects of my recent illness has been a substantial loss of appetite. This evening's main meal was the first proper sit-down, cooked meal (home-made paella, for the record) I've had for almost a fortnight, after subsisting in the interim on the likes of sandwiches and bowls of cereal, if that. I've no real idea if I've lost any weight, but I guess that I probably have, even if it is a bit of a 'drop in the ocean' syndrome. Contrary to what people might think if they met me, I don't eat a particularly unhealthy diet anyway - I eat relatively little fried food, reasonable amounts of salad and vegetables (although I'll admit to being very poor on the fruit consumption front) and I certainly don't have a sweet tooth. My main weakness is drinking too much beer and Chardonnay - at least if you've got to die of something, it may as well be something enjoyable!

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Coming to an end

With almost every shift I work now, it's 'the last' of something in terms of my present job. Today will be the last Sunday shift I work here, and could be the last weekend shift of any sort, if I get the leave I've applied for on the last two days I'm supposed to be here, because next weekend is my weekend off in any case. On the whole, I have no regrets at all about leaving, but there is one slight downside - if I don't see DBJ in the next three hours, I may literally never see him again in my life. He's been so much a part of my life for the past four years, passing my workplace window, that it's hard to imagine not seeing him, but that's the reality I've got to come to terms with. The irony is, of course, that he probably won't even realise that I've left, and it wouldn't make the slightest difference to his life if he did, apart, I suppose, from his not having me gawping at him on a regular basis, assuming that he's even noticed that, and there's no evidence that he has, really. The ultimate in one-sided infatuations, I guess, but at least the one-sidedness means that I haven't done him any harm, which I'd never want to do. It would've been nice to have been able to say goodbye to him, but, given that I've never even said 'hello', it would doubtless be seen as inappropriate in some shape or form. Whatever else, I can definitely say that, in terms of my tastes and of someone who I've seen on a regular basis over an extended period of time, he's the most attractive person, of any age or gender, that I've ever seen.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

An anniversary

Today is a slightly offbeat anniversary in my life. Nothing to do with births, deaths, marriages or people in general, but the twentieth anniversary of my first ever visit to the place that I've most fallen in love with, and would most like to call home - Gran Canaria. During my twenties, I'd never really thought of package holidays, even though there were periods during that time when I could easily have afforded to go, spending my time off work either visiting my family and friends or travelling within the UK. The other inhibiting factor was that I didn't really have anyone to go with, and not being the sort of person who tends to make friends easily, I was put off by the idea of spending a week or fortnight in a foreign country more or less completely on my own. The turning point came in 1989, when my cousin and a group of his friends went to Gran Canaria for a week. He came back saying how much he'd enjoyed himself, which planted the idea in my head that it might be my cup of tea after all.
The trip didn't come about for another 12 months, but I convinced myself to give it a go, and booked a week at the beginning of September 1990. Given that I was going on my own, I decided to stay in a hotel, and, not having been before, booked purely on the basis of brochure descriptions. As it turned out, it was a pretty good place, with some of the best food I've had in a Spanish hotel, even though it was nominally only 3* rated.
I had an evening flight out from Manchester, so that it was getting on for midnight by the time I arrived at Las Palmas airport, to be greeted by puddles that seemed to be about a foot deep. I seriously wondered what the hell I'd let myself in for. The holiday company rep on the transfer coach reassured us, though - apparently the weather over the previous few days had been uncomfortably hot, 35 - 40 degrees and humid with it, very unusual for that time of year, but that there had been a massive thunderstorm that evening which was supposed to have cleared the air and that the following day was going to be warm and dry, much more typical Canarian weather.
When I got up at around 9:00 the following morning, the weather prognosis proved to be correct - bright sunshine and not a cloud to be seen, and that's how it stayed for the rest of the week, apart from one cloudy afternoon. The welcome meeting, rather than being in the hotel, was in an English bar in the town followed by a mini coach tour of the resort, and I have to admit that by lunchtime on that first day, I'd fallen head over heels for the place. I'll freely admit that Playa del Ingles wouldn't be for everyone - there's no 'old town', because there was nothing there except tomato fields until the 1960's, and it can look a bit of a concrete jungle - but I fell in love at first sight, helped by the fantastic weather, and the feeling's never gone away.
During that first week, I only ventured outside the resort once, and then only to Faro, a couple of miles away, but on subsequent visits, I've seen, by way of coach tours, car hire and local buses, the majority of the island, and apart from the capital, Las Palmas, I like pretty much everything I've seen. If circumstances ever permit, I wouldn't hesitate to live on the island - my Spanish isn't fluent, but I can get by, and living there would doubtless improve my grasp of the language. The drawback is that my wife isn't keen, although we have got as far as fairly detailed discussions about how it could work on a couple of occasions. I'm hamstrung by the fact that my wife knows she's got the ultimate veto, at least in any foreseeable circumstances - when we've had our intermittent arguments over the years, she's invited me to go on my own on a few occasions, knowing very well that I wouldn't. Maybe there's a retirement home out there somewhere with my name on it, who knows? I can live in hope, even if I die in despair.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Home

I've spent the past day and a half at home, and will probably be doing much the same for the next day and a half, trying to recuperate from the infection I've had and get myself back into some reasonable working order. Up to now, it's only been minimally successful, and has led me, as is my wont, to consider my priorities in life.
I like our home, it's not luxurious by any means, but it's much better than many other people, even in a relatively affluent country like the UK, have to contend with. The problem is that it's very expensive for us to keep the mortgage and other payments going, in relation to our income. I know that I'm far from being unique in being in such a position, but I do wonder at times whether it's all worthwhile. I've spent well over 30 years working full-time, and, if overtime shifts are taken into account (say against a 40 hour week), I've probably, at a conservative estimate, worked an extra 5 years' worth of shifts on top of what I've been obliged to do. And for what? To carry on paying, month after month, year after year, bills which seem to do nothing but fuel the astronomical profits of the various financial institutions, and the associated obscene salaries and bonuses of some of their staff. Maybe it's just jealousy, but to watch such things going on while I seem to be spending my life and health to subsidise it all is, at times, very frustrating, to put it mildly.
And the next step, of course, is for me to have to spend so much time away from this home I enjoy to be able to carry on living in it. If that isn't irony, I don't know what is. There are days when I just feel like dropping out of the rat race, and I guess this is one of them, but no doubt my exaggerated sense of duty, particularly to my family, will kick in again soon, and I'll get over my frustrations. I don't, short of sentencing my family to eviction, have very much choice.
On a much happier note, Tman's post of yesterday was very uplifting - it's never too late, at least for some, to be yourself. Would that I could join him, but, again, all of those doors in my life, except the one marked 'Disaster' are locked.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Blank

It's been that kind of a week, really. The combination of being on nights and being under the weather has left me feeling thoroughly washed out and incapable of doing anything much, beyond functioning on a pretty basic level. All of which is not particularly conducive to sparkling blogging. I did make a start on (yet another) new story for 'Cuckoos', a fairly light-hearted one, by my normal standards, but once again, it seems to have stalled. I've got, without exaggeration, bits of ten stories in draft form now, but whether any of them will end up seeing the light of day remains uncertain.
There's quite a sense of flux in my life at the moment, insofar as I've been compos mentis enough to think about it, in terms of the countdown to the move to my new job, just over three weeks away now. It's giving me, perhaps not surprisingly, distinctly mixed feelings. I'm so desperate to get away from my present job that I can hardly wait to go, but that brings with it the knowledge that I'm going to spending so much of my life away from home, which I'm not looking forward to at all. I suppose I should just accept that I've made my bed, and now I've got to lie in it.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

I don't get it

I've tripped over a couple of things in the last 24 hours while meandering through cyberspace (fairly limited meanderings at the moment due to still feeling well below par) which have made me think 'Why?' They've both been fiction-related, so I suppose it could be said that I should just accept it as different tastes for different people, and not even real-life tastes at that, but one was a short story, just a few paragraphs, where it was pretty obvious that a father was about to rape his son, while the other was a link to a website which offered a collection of stories involving "the forced non-consensual nudity, embarrassment and humiliation of preteen and young teen boys, ages 8 to 14". For all people might say that my sexual proclivities are beyond any acceptable bounds, I just don't understand what anyone finds erotic about pain, coercion, embarrassment and humiliation. Surely, if anything, those kinds of issues are about power relationships and having someone submit to another's will, rather than anything to do with pleasure.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B