BACK TO BLACK

Saturday 28th September 2008 was my last day at the bike shop - I don't think anyone was happy with anyone else, and it was best to end it now before any bitterness or recriminations set in. This way we remain friends. I've described it to close friends as being stuck in a malfunctioning submarine with no-one but Jim Davidson and a flatulent Jeanette Krankie for company (and a snoring dog, also immensely flatulent), but this is perhaps doing a disservice to the female half of the Krankies. At best it was claustrophobic, at worst unbearable, and they probably began to feel the same about me. I was often expected to play the role of marriage guidance counsellor, but refused to be drawn into it. I enjoyed the work, but found the hours an immense drain on my time and resources - I'd arrive home at 6ish, have my dinner, fall asleep, and when I woke up the wife and kids would be in bed, and that would be my lot day upon day. Having a day off in the week gave me some luxurious time to myself, but meant I had to sacrifice a family Saturday, which was hard.
I hated dealing with the public, and would go so far as to say I couldn't actually cope with it. I've always been a backroom boy - chef, promoter, call-centre monkey; if the workshop had been separate from the shop I'd have been much happier.
I became so very tired I made stupid mistakes. This is still a worry to me, and I have mentioned this to my doctor, who has re-prescribed antidepressants, which I have started today, so henceforth a couple of weeks of side-effects with no fun attached.
I also experienced a lot of pain in my hands and feet, which we put down to arthritic pain and treated with Cod Liver Oil and Glucosamine, which has made a notable difference to my hands, but not so much to my feet. My hips also have a tendency to seize up when I'm sedentary or prone for lengthy periods.
It's an awkward time to become unemployed as my wife only gets paid for 10 months of the year, so after her paycheck at the end of this week she gets no pay till January. Very convenient for us! Something will turn up.

PARTIALLY SIGHTED

I've had a big problem with Specsavers.
Here's the letter I delivered to the "Director" this morning.
It got me 2 pairs of varifocal lenses considerably upgraded, a free pair of
singlevision reading glasses in �85 frames, and �40 off my original bill.
Worth writing then.

Specsavers,

Dimond Street

Pembroke Dock.Dear Mr ****,

*Re: Complaint about Customer Service.*My complaint begins on 21st June 2008, when I came to the Pembroke Dock
branch of Specsavers with the intention of ordering some new varifocal
spectacles.

I selected frames and went through the ordering process, but I was told it
would not be possible for me to pay a deposit, I would have to pay the full
amount before the specs could be ordered, and that this was company policy.
I was annoyed about this being stated at the end of the process, as it meant
that I had to wait until Thursday 26th June before the order could be sent
off. Prior to my sight test, I had broken my only pair of varifocal glasses,
and the only standby pair I have are an old pair of single vision glasses,
which are fine for distance, but no good whatsoever for close work. However,
it was made very clear to me that full payment had to be made before the
order could be processed, so I arranged to take some time off work the
following Thursday to enable me to come in and place the order.

I was informed at the time that due to the technician being on holiday have
to be sent away to be made up, and would take between a week and ten days to
be delivered to Pembroke Dock.

I explained at the time that I am a cycle mechanic and need glasses for
close vision as well as distance, and that I had had to struggle with single
vision lenses for a week already. I was assured that a note would be put on
the order asking for it to be dispached as soon as possible, though I now
know this was not done.

I was informed of the various offers, and chose to take the 2 for 1 deal,
with my main glasses having slimmer lenses, and the second pair having a
tint.

I paid in cash and was told I would be contacted by phone when my glasses
were ready for collection.

I found my work very difficult, particularly tasks such as trueing wheels
and adjusting brakes, which require constant close vision.

I phoned on Friday 4th July to check whether my spectacles had arrived, and
was told that they would definitely be there by Monday. I do not know to
whom I spoke.

When I phoned today, I spoke to Penny, who seemed surprised that no-one had
phoned me, as there was a note attached to my order saying that the lenses I
had ordered were no longer available. I knew this would mean that no
spectacles were available for collection, and that it would mean a further
delay, and I got quite angry on the phone, which was wrong of me.

Penny explained that there was no point in me coming to the shop as there
was no-one there who was able to do anything, which I thought was a lie, so
I went along to the shop in an attempt to get a resolution, as I had
deliberately organised the day off work, having been assured my glasses
would be ready for collection.

When I discovered that Penny was actually telling the truth about the
complete lack of staff I was utterly disgusted, and demanded that she get
someone like an area manager on the phone.

I was offered a full refund, which I declined, as that would do nothing to
help my predicament.

After some negotiation, we arrived at a temporary solution, whereby they
would make me some near-vision glasses overnight to help in my work while my
new glasses were made. This was far from an ideal solution, but the only
practicable one under the circumstances.

I arranged for my wife to collect them the next day, but as I was cycling
home it occurred to me that something might be done with the lenses from my
old varifocals.

I was told that it probably wouldn't be possible to transfer them to new
frames, as it would involved trimming off the bottom of the lens, but we
agreed it would be worth a try as there was nothing to be lost, and another
Penny agreed to do the work after her lunchbreak.

When I returned later, I discovered that throughout all this, a pair of
glasses for me had been upstairs the whole time; the second pair I had
ordered with the tint.

So, more by accident than design, I finally ended up with a pair of glasses
I can use for work, even though they have a tint which will still make
things difficult. It will be nice to be able to see properly after
struggling for over 3 weeks.

Today has been a far more stressful day than I would choose for a day off.

I feel I am owed at the very least an explanation as to the following
questions:

Why is it essential for a fee to be paid in full before the order can be
processed, when I was willing to leave a sizeable cash deposit?

Why was I sold a set of lenses which are not available?

Why was I assured that the urgency of my situation would be noted on the
order, only for it to be completely ignored?

Why was I told on the telephone that my glasses would definitely be
available for collection today when that was clearly not the case?

Why were a pair of glasses delivered to the store and no-one informed?

Why was there no-one available to deal with my grievances at the time?Of the three people I dealt with today I have nothing but praise. They
handled a very difficult situation very well, and I am delighted with the
service I received from them, but I am disgusted with your managerial
system. That the shop should be left so understaffed is appalling, and I
hope you pass on my compliments to the staff who were there.

I fully intend to post my feelings about this incident online, on my own
blogs, and on sheriffratings.com, which lists Specsavers as a business,
though in the interests of fairness I shall await your response before
posting.I would appreciate a response at your earliest convenience, and I would
also appreciate receipt of my correct glasses as soon as possible, with the
minimum of disruption to my working week.Regards, the hobo

FULL TIME

Today I started full-time, permanent, proper employment at the bike shop. Most of this month has been spent working there, so it seemed the right step to take. The house is sxtill a mess, although most of the hallway, the smallest bedroom and part of my workshop is decorated. I have had little time for anything else, though I have managed to write an article for Sustrans, and an article about Sustrans for the parish magazine. I have also found a few spare hours on a Friday evening to go to the pub and drink beer; a seemingly long forgotten pastime.
It seems this blog is well named - the more involved I become in The World Of Cycling, the happier I get.

CONTINUED

...OK so the big chairs are finally out of the house, but still awaiting collection and disposal, as is the old telly and a few other sticks and bits, and there is more room within the house as a result. Or is there...?
An inflatable gaming chair with speakers and dock for an MP3 has been bought and inflated and is very popular with the children. Unfortunately a bit too small for me.
Kitchen units and a worktop have provided Jasmine with an 8ft desk in her room and replaced her wardrobe.
In moving living room furniture, we uncovered a living breathing growing patch of mould on the living room wall below the window, which necessitated the removal of a large section of wallpaper, and led to the stripping of the whole wall and the removal of the accursed dado rail. This has now progressed along the wall to my workshop/study room (the redecorating, not the mould, which hopefully has been forever banished).
My shed is still full of chipboard panelling, the workshop/study still full of Mrs H's stuff, and bikes have no home at the moment. This is a very inconvenient state of affairs, but not one which can be rushed. The redecorating has to be done before cupboards and shelves can be attached to walls, and the redecorating is what is taking the time. If only I didn't have a job!

T-T-TEMPUS FUGIT

I can't believe how long it is since I last posted on here. It's all been hectic and change and flux and chaos...
I got the job at the bike shop, and have worked every possible hour since. I'm still enjoying it.
We were given a whole suite of kitchen furniture - units, cupboards, worktops etc, which needed to be incorporated into the structure of the house post haste, and this sparked a whole chain reaction of events which has turned the whole house upside down and given it a good shake, so things like springcleaning and redecorating have been high on the domestic agenda. To understand the scale of the operation, you have to understand the sheer cramped chaos of a six-piece family in a 3 bed council house. To move something, you first need somewhere to move it to. Inevitably, to create this space, something else has to be moved somewhere else, and so on ad infinitem, ad nauseam, add it all up and take something away.
What should have been taken away were two enormous armchairs. The size of these beauties cannot be overstated. We bought them from one of Mrs H's work colleagues back in Leicester, and at the time I had an Astra estate, which was pretty good for shifting stuff. The contents of my flat probably took 3 or 4 trips when we moved into the house, but these chairs had to be moved one at a time, so cumbersome was their bulk. So sturdy their build and so comfortable their cushions, that it was a hard choice to get rid of them, but they did take up a great deal of space. Some community police people actually helped get them out of the door, on a day when Frame, the local furniture recycling charity, was supposed to be out and about collecting furniture in the community, only they did not and have still not collected our chairs. (to be continued...)

EVENING STROLLS

The current spell of delightful weather has forced everyone out of doors, and while it means we're plagued with un-neighbourly noise, they have forced us out of our home in the evenings. Last night I dragged everyone out for a walk. As we set off up the hill, both Oliver and Mavis were constantly asking where we were going, obviously puzzled by the fact that we were going out at bedtime. We did a short circular walk which included a play in the park, and we were all better for it. Unfortunately the neighbour noise had not abated in the slightest, nor did it do so until after 9pm.
Tonight I took Jasmine and Dylan (and camera) while tired Olver and Mavis went to bed. We covered the same route and returned about 7.30pm. The neighbours, who had been noticeably and pleasantly silent earlier, were back in full voice, so I decided to take a short bike ride and take some more photos, something I haven't done for what seems like a very long time. It reminded me of all that was good about living here.

AN UNFITTTING END

Our next-door-but-one neighbours are making our lives hell with constant noise. Here is tonight's entry to the Noise Diary I will be sending to the Police, the Council and anyone else who will listen.
"FROM THE MOMENT I ARRIVED HOME FROM WORK AT AROUND 4PM, THERE WAS SHOUTING, SCREAMING AND THE NOISE OF THE TRAMPOLINE. THERE ARE CURRENTLY 6 ADULTS AND 6 CHILDREN OUT THERE, ALL SHOUTING AND YELLING. EVEN WITH THE TELEVISION TURNED UP UNCOMFORTABLY LOUD WE CANNOT DROWN OUT THIS NOISE, AND WE CANNOT EVEN SIT DOWN TO EAT OUR DINNER IN PEACE. IF WE SO MUCH AS LOOK OUT OF OUR WINDOW WE ARE JEERED AT AND INSULTED. MORE RUBBISH HAS BEEN DUMPED OVER THE BACK OF THEIR FENCE IN THE WOODLAND; WOODEN STAKES LARGE PLASTIC CHILDRENS' TOYS AND A TRASHED COMPOSTING BIN NOW GRACE OUR VIEW. AT 6PM WE WENT FOR A WALK AS WE COULDN'T STAND ANY MORE BUT HAD TO RETURN AT 7PM AS THE 3 YEAR OLD TWINS WERE READY TO GO TO BED. THE NOISE IS NOW WORSE THAN IT WAS EARLIER, AND THERE ARE MORE PEOPLE IN THE GARDEN. IT WOULD BE POINTLESS TO COMPLAIN DIRECTLY AS THE ADULTS ARE ALL DRINKING HEAVILY. 20:15 I HAVE BEEN WEARING HEADPHONES FOR THE PAST HOUR TO BLOCK OUT THE NOISE, WHICH CONTINUES JUST AS LOUDLY AS BEFORE. CHILDREN ARE NOW GOING INTO THE TREES AT THE BACK OF OUR GARDEN, AND THEIR YORKSHIRE TERRIERS ARE YAPPING CONSTANTLY."

MONDAY CONFUSION

After an unexpectedly hectic weekend assembling kitchen units, dissembling wardrobes and generally turning the house upside down, I awoke on Monday morning with a sore throat and numerous aches and pains, all of which called out for the soothing balm of a painkiller. Tramadol in the evening is a very effective way of attaining comfort, and then sleep, but in the morning it is the quickest route to baffledom and fuzzytown that I know of.
I knew I needed to establish the time and date of my appointment with my surgeon, and spent a fruitless half hour searching for the appointment letter, before deciding to phone work and tell them I would be a little late. The letter would not be found, so I phoned the hospital to discover that my appointment was booked for today at 11am! Fortunately, it was at the local hospital, a short bikeride away. My intention had been to cancel the appointment, but I was obviously too late for this, so I decided I may as well see the surgeon, even though the problems I had encountered six months ago were long gone.
The surgeon was delighted with my progress, and told me to continue to live as normal, with no fear of the hernias returning.

After my appointment I rode over to work, and had a pleasant afternoon trueing wheels and adjusting brakes.

We discussed the week, and I explained my commitments, and there was no hassle. My work-life balance is restored, I am a happy man.

BUSY SATURDAY

Having worked at the bike shop again on Friday, I decided that Friday night was as good a time as any celebrate recent events, and we arranged a babysitter, and went to our local pub for a few beers and games of pool, which was very pleasant. We got home around midnight to find Jasmine and Dylan still up watching the Simpsons. We packed them off to bed quite easily, and went to bed ourselves. I woke around 6am with the current cough in full spate, and couldn't get back to sleep, so got up.
I was asked later if I could assist with the moving of some kitchen units we'd been given a while ago. This involved getting them out of a lockup garage a few streets away, loading them into a trailer and unloading them into our front "garden". It took two trips and the result overspilled into the street, constructed cupboards, doors, panels, shelves, and an 8' by 2'6" worktop, so hardly a stroll in the park, but I managed it with no worrying twinges. I managed to blag a decent electric screwdriver out of it, to make the job easier, not all effort was in vain. The day then consisted of emptying the shed into the living room, filling up the shed with stuff from the garden, emptying the living room into the garden in order to have somewhere to eat dinner, then making sure everything was inside that needed to be, before retiring to bed at around 7.30pm, knackered but glorious.
The reason I'm describing this in such detail is that it is probably the most strenuous and hectic day I've had in a very long time, and it did me no harm. I'm aching now, but with the honest ache of hard physical work, nothing sinister, which leads me to the conclusion that it is the three years of almost constant inactivity sitting at a civil service desk which has been the source of most of my woes; physical, mental, spiritual. If I sit down for too long, I seize up, particularly around my hips. If I stay active, I don't.
Some of the cupboards have been installed beneath the stairs, some will go in my shed, and some will replace the delapidated wardrobe in the kids' bedroom. The 8' worktop will not fit in my shed, but will fit in the kids' room, so no need to carve it up, and I can use a shorter piece as a workbench in the shed.
Tomorrow's work is mapped out. As is Monday's, back at the bike shop.

NEW JOB

Today I started work at the bike shop. I have mostly been fitting new brake and gear cables, fixing punctures, fitting new chains etc, and it has been marvellous. I couldn't get enough of it, didn't want to stop for lunch, got my hands good and dirty (for once the dirt beneath my fingernails was not from the keys of a computer keyboard), and am glad to be going back tomorrow. I was born to do this. I ache everywhere, but don't care.

THE LETTER

Hi J***, Hi A***,
Thank you for accepting my resignation, as indicated in my email yesterday.
Obviously it is not a decision I have taken lightly.
Firstly, I would like to thank you both for all the help and support you have given me during what has been a very difficult time for me and my family, and I hope neither of you feels let down by my decision. I would also like to thank the team for being a good bunch to work with and for their help and support when I tried to return to work on a part-time basis.
The reasons for my resignation are fairly obvious, but I would like to clarify them, in the hope that my views might be of help in the future.
I have felt throughout the whole course of my complaint against Mike Kelly that the management position has favoured his side, and deep down I fully expected that the decision would go against me from the start. The stress of the whole situation has had a very detrimental effect on my health and family life, and I do not feel that this has received any consideration beyond the contact centre, where I am just another number shouting over the barricades. I feel that DWP as a whole both ignores and accepts bullying and harassment as a part of working life, and so is prepared to do nothing about it. I am also disgusted with how PCS union has handled the situation, and cancelled my subscription some time ago, but I know this is not your business directly.
My decision came when I decided that whatever principle was at stake, it was not worth pursuing if it would be detrimental to my health, and I felt that if I returned to work I would be victimised by other union representatives and other members of my team, in particular Mitch Rushton, who made a spectacularly incomplete and inaccurate witness statement, which the investigators obviously decided was better than having no witnesses at all.
I feel that, whatever guidance and procedure states, I would be stigmatised for making a complaint, and I would not receive any support from the union as the complaint was against one of their officers, and this makes my position in the Contact Centre completely untenable.

regards
Jim

A FREE MAN

A while ago now I dropped a hint at the local bike shop that I would be interested in replacing their lost mechanic, who had gone off to deliver tellies. At the time Mike said that he thought he was "sorted", and I left it hanging.
He has just phoned me today to ask if I could do some repair work for him on a casual basis, so I'm going in tomorrow to see how we get on. I'm sure all will be well. It feels right.

A FREE MAN?

I have resigned. In high dudgeon.
Yesterday's meeting was a far worse travesty than I was capable of imagining, full of "the procedure doesn't allow..." and "if it was within the timescale..." and "you're fucking joking!" and "this is outfuckingrageous". I did try to curtail my outbursts, but it was an uphill task, and this Bozo was paid to come all the way from Newcastle to tell me what he'd already decided, which could have easily been done by email.
When I came out of the meeting, I had a small and restrained rant at John, my direct manager, about which I felt terrible, as he is such a nice bloke, but he needed to hear it.
So, free from the restraints of being a Civil Servant (God how I loathe and despise that job title) I can now state quite loudly and not-so-proudly that the Department of Work and Pensions supports and condones Harassment and Bullying in the workplace. It doesn't just turn a blind eye, it is fully aware of what is going on and is happy to do absolutely fuck all about it. Let's face it, the whole Department is nothing but one big corporate bully, so why should it differ in attitude towards its staff? I despise the entire system and every bastard who administers it.
PCS Union is equally guilty. Racism, discrimination, bigotry, bullying and harassment are rife in its ranks, all the way to the top. I was summoned to Leeds for my allegations to be heard - how could I expect a fair hearing when I was interviewed by a very loud, obnoxious and obvious bully? (I'm referring here to Jane Aitchison. I think names should be named.)
I have just been phoned by my line manager, to ask whether my email, which said "I have no option but to tender my resignation" should be taken as notice of resignation, or would I be putting it in a letter.
I think a letter would be appropriate, under the circumstances.

THE WHEELS OF INDUSTRY

Today, I am finally having my appeal heard in my Bullying and Harassment case. This has been dragging on from November '07. It has contributed greatly to my current state of health. It is causing arguments at home. I am thoroughly disgusted with every step of the "procedure", and it seems to me that the time taken has only served to give Mike Kelly a chance to organise his defence. I intend to make my feelings as plain as possible, before telling them where they can stick their job. I still feel like he has "won", and that the system is set up to allow him to do so, but I'm not prepared to go much further with this. My belief in "justice" is already threadbare, so why not just throw out the carpet? If I "let it go", what then? Will I be able to "move on" (how I hate this contemporary jargon! I'm sure you "hear what I'm saying".)
Now I'm starting to get back to fitness, I should start to feel better within myself, but it just doesn't seem to be happening. I feel a complete lack of support from my wife, which merely fuels the paranoia. So, where now?

TO SEE OURSEL'S AS OTHERS SEE US

In church this morning I found myself being discussed by a couple of the older women. First I was asked if I'd seen myself in the paper, something to do with taking part in a big cleanup operation. The other then commented on this "Mystery Cyclist" who kept whizzing past her house. She then went on to comment on how different I appear now to a few months ago when I couldn't walk without the aid of a stick, and that brought me up short.
On Thurdsday, I cycled 10 miles or so up the main trunk road to Stepaside to take part in a working day for Sustrans, tidying up the borders of a new cycle and foot path, which was reasonably heavy work, and then we cycled back again along the Ridgeway, so about 25 miles cycling in total (on my newly rebuilt road bike, so a much faster pace than usual).
On Friday I cycled to Haverfordwest and back early in the morning to buy cheap cycling clothes from Aldi; another 22 miles. In the afternoon I did more cycling around town, this time on my MTB, with panniers full of shopping/compost etc.
Looking back, I was probably walking with a stick until the end of November 2007. I think I can now view my progress in a different light.

A NEW DAY

It's the Monday Morning after a really crap weekend, most of which I can't remember. The main incident was on Saturday Night and completely eclipsed everything else which might have been good about the weekend. The Noisy Neighbours came round to abuse and threaten me again, this time charging me with taking photos of their children. They simply will not accept that their children and their friends are liars (even though they encourage them to lie, steal and cheat at every opportunity). The father was nearest the door, but still at some distance, and did most of the talking, threatening me with allsorts, including the police, to which I agreed. His wife was at the gate, surrounded by a gang of kids, mostly teenagers, and when he got nowhere, she started hurling the abuse, whereupon I shut the door on them and called the police myself. Within minutes the whole family was dispersed, presumably collecting alibis.
Two Community Support Officers attended within about 10 minutes, and promised to look into the problem. I phoned again yesterday as I had heard nothing back, and spoke to the older officer, who said "As you've sent a report of this to your local councillor, we're just going to treat this as a neighbour disagreement, which is nothing to do with us".
At this I went ballistic. Within an hour two "proper coppers" came to the house, and I filled them in with what had happened, whereupon they said they would speak to the neighbours.
Since then I've had abuse shouted at me by strangers in the street, but nothing physical has happened as yet, though I get the feeling it will.
As a family we are sick of this. We have no privacy, no peace and quiet, no quality of life to speak of. On Saturday, my wife was in the garden with our children, and had to put up with continued abuse shouted across and things thrown at them. Their behaviour is disgusting.
Our Councillor has taken our side in this and has forwarded emails on to the Housing Officer, though I fully expect he will take as much action as usual, i.e. none at all. I'd like us to be moved away completely, but most of the areas to which we could move are probably a lot worse, so it would be a leap from the frying pan.

A QUIET TUESDAY

Things have had a touch of the hectic about them of late. (i.e. I've had stuff to do!), and this week is no exception, but today is a day with no appointments in the diary, nowhere to go, no-one to see. Of course there is the usual stuff that needs to be done, but I'm not yet sure that I can be bothered to do any of it.
Instead of my leather office chair, which seems to give me instant backache, I am sitting on an exercise ball, hoping to improve posture and benefit my core muscles while "doing nothing". Well, it's a start.
It's 9.30am, and I have yet to be startled by the yapping of Yorkshire terriers from next-door-but-one. It usually starts around now, and then I have to drown it out with the radio. Last night as we were putting our children to bed, one of their children was in their garden, attacking his little brother's sit-on tractor with a saw and a hammer. At one point it looked like he might saw himself in half. It serves to illustrate how little his mother cares for his welfare - she must have known what he was up to from the amount of noise he was making, but not once did she come out to check that he was OK. While he was doing this, one of her precious Yorkshire terriers escaped from the front of the house. I watched as she went out and tried to lure the yapping bastard back in, and when she failed to do so after 2 minutes, she went back in and simply left it there, which is the same approach she takes with her children. They are also actively encouraged to lie, cheat and steal. Words fail me. I hate being anywhere near these people.
On Sunday I took Jasmine along to a local Jiu-Jitsu class, on the recommendation of a friend. I was worried that she might find it too intimidating, as she's a bit of a shrinking violet at times, but she got stuck in like a good 'un. Actually, I found the violence a bit overwhelming, but I wasn't there for my benefit. She seemed to enjoy it, and declared an interest in going regularly. I can also take Dylan, as they accept children from the age of 5, so next week I shall take them both, and see how they fare. On one hand, I'm a bit uneasy about exposing them to such violence at such a young age, but I'm also uneasy about exposing them to our neighbours on a daily basis. They have been bullied once, and doing this might ensure they can stand up to any bullying they come up against, which I never could.
9:45, and right on cue, out come the dogs.
To balance things, I went and bought 2 descant recorders yesterday, along with the tutorial the schools use, so I can give Jasmine recorder lessons. The deal is that if she does well at it we can get a saxophone. I think I want one more than she does, but so what? I'd like us all to be able to play music together, and recorders seems to be the way to go, to begin with. Although I had not blown one in anger since schooldays, I was straight back in there, no messing! I now need some "proper" music to play, so I can practice up while Jasmine is at school and stay ahead of the game, as I know what a fast and eager learner she is!

ENTHUSIASM

In my capacity as Sustrans Liaison Ranger, I have just had a meeting with one of the head teachers at the local school regarding the children doing regular litterpicks along a section of the National Cycle Network.
It was an excellent meeting, very positive, and everything came together instantly. Why can't everything be this way? And why can't I get paid for doing this wonderful job?

INJURIES

At times, I can forget my hernia operation as though it had never happened. Then it kicks me in the nads again. Walking on Saturday was quite problematic - after four miles I was all but seized up with random stabbing pain in my whole groin area. Mildly worrying, but it did pass, so I'll put that down to recent inactivity and general stiffness.
My shoulder, having been firmly dealt with by a proper physiotherapist, is better than it was, in that it is no longer waking me up at 5am in agony, but it's still not right. I can produce pins and needles down my arm simply by tilting my head back, and get rid of them by nodding forwards.
My left wrist aches far more than it used to. (This is the one I broke clean across when I was 17). I suspect the two things are connected.

A F HARROLD IN CARDIGAN

Last Thursday I made my way over to Cardigan to see A F Harrold at the Word Up! Poetry Night, (first Thursday of every month, at the Castle Cafe, Cardigan) and to spend some time with my friends Sue and Dai. It was the first time I'd been there since standing down as Chairman, and it was nice to have no pressure to do anything. Simone has well and truly taken over and is rapidly making the night a part of her "Empire" - she's booking poets to perform, putting them up at her place (some massive country pile by all accounts) then getting them to give a writer's workshop the following day (I presume she also gets mucho funding for this...) and I'm glad to be out of it.
However, I digress.
A F Harrold is a name I have heard often over the years, and one with a big reputation attached to it, so I took along some high expectations.
He was younger than I'd thought he'd be; the same age as my wife.
He was one of those rare people with whom I could just sit down and start rapping. We talked incessantly until the start of the proceedings. I bought all 3 of his books. At a discount. I now need to send him one of mine.
His very first poem had me in hysterics. I don't think this has ever happened before. He was an awesome performer, one of the best I have ever seen. There were hints of Hegleyism in his delivery at times, but I'm sure they could be slapped out of him given the chance. His material pisses all over Hegley's. (No offence intended John, I think I remember a poem of yours I enjoyed once, or it could have been Simon Armitage.)
The night was pretty much a blur - I hardly ever drink these days, but I had an old-fashioned thirst on, and a few too many pints were drank, judging by the axe-wound to my skull the following morning. I'd also smoked more than enough weed, but I don't think I behaved too badly, considering.
I'm now perusing the books at my leisure. The poems to his father are very moving indeed. I like the mixture of light and dark in his act. Just like mine used to be.

KINESIOLOGY

After two sessions of Bowens Technique, my shoulder was as bad as when I started, and I was £60 worse off. I phoned the therapist, who said we might try a session of Kinesiology, which I was happy to go along with, even though it cost a further £20.
The session involved myself and two women, my regular therapist, and her colleague.
We sat in a semi-circle, and one of them held onto me, either my arm, my shoulder, or sometimes the top of my head, while I held various phials in my right hand. The one holding onto me then held out their left arm level with their shoulder, and the other applied pressure to the top of their hand. Depending on whether the arm gave resistance or flopped down, a decision was made. This went on for around 30 minutes, during which time I was requested not to let my mind wander and to "stay in the room". I held onto a variety of phials, sometimes two together, while they mumbled and wrote down various indecipherable notes. At the end of it all it was "revealed" that I was low in zinc, which was hampering my recovery, and I was "prescribed" two tablets of zinc a day (which were conveniently sold in the downstairs health-food shop). It has made absolutely no difference, I have forgotten about taking the zinc, and while I wouldn't go so far as to say the whole thing is a con, I don't have much confidence in it. I certainly wouldn't recommend it to anybody.
Fortunately, I had an excellent physiotherapist recommended to me, who seems to have sorted everything out. Phew.

LONG TIME NO SEE

I didn't realise it had been quite so long since my last post, but it has been impossible to keep a daily blog during the easter holidays. There is a lot to catch up on now the children and wife are all back at school. My shoulder has improved dramatically after a visit to a recommended physiotherapist, Gavin McCoy of Haverfordwest, who got straight to the root of the problem, a few misaligned vertebrae in the middle of my back. I'm still not 100%, but there was a marked improvement the day after seeing him, and he has given me a couple of "exercises" (which involve lying down) which should sort the rest out. I also had a session of Kinesiology with my Bowens therapist and her colleague (more about that in a separate blog), but I don't think that had any effect.
I am still employed, but for how much longer I have no idea. There was mention at the last meeting of all the absence I had from last year, so they're obviously counting the days, at last. I look forward to being set free soon. I have lodged an appeal against the disgusting decision of my complaint of harrassment and bullying, and am once more playing the ridiculous waiting game that follows any such action. Thinking about it makes me mad and makes me paranoid, so I won't discuss that any further just yet.
Last week I went back to Cardigan for a Word Up! Poetry night featuring A F Harrold - again, more about that in a separate blog when I get time.
I have taken up the knitting needles again after a long lay-off and am currently learning how to cable. More about that on my knitting blog.
I now have the information I need to get on with some Celtic Knot Design - more about that on a separate blog too.
Medically, things are pretty much as they were - I'm still vastly overweight - currently hovering around the 14.5 stone mark. I was 15 stone a few weeks ago so there is slight improvement, but obviously the shoulder injury has prevented any serious exercise, though I have managed to up the mileage I've been cycling recently. I'm still unhappy about my energy levels.
My medication regime is quite stripped down, I'm currently taking Omeprazole to regulate my stomach acid, still on the antidepressant Cipralex, though I'm not convinced it's actually doing anything, and I have been taking Tramadol for my shoulder, but there is little need for that at the moment. Abdominal pain is still there, but tolerable most of the time. Hernia pain seems to be on the wane, but I don't think it will completely disappear.
I now need to give my Road Bike a complete service after the winter, and get it race ready again. I need a new bottom bracket, and then I'd like to change the gearing, perhaps by putting a compact chainset on, which seems the easiest option. I shall discuss this at the bikeshop sometime this week.

STATIC

Today I am trying out a new Tens machine on my shoulder - while the tickling of the electrical current is distracting for a while, that's all it seems to do. I really am getting worried about my shoulder - I've never experienced such lingering and intense pain as this before.
Shelagh is back from her holiday in the USA, and has been in touch with Ted about Jim's camera collection, so I am now waiting for Ted to let me know when he is able to bring the stuff over here.
While this is a positive thing in itself, it feels like something ending.

THE RESULT

I received today the result of the findings of the investigation into my complaint at work. I am not happy. Enough said. For now.

HELLO SENSELESSNESS MY OLD FRIEND

Last night was a bad one - I had diarrhea so bad that I was expelling nothing but water, the acid in my stomach was boiling up almost into my mouth, and my shoulder slowly got worse and worse. A li'l cannabis helped me sleep for a few hours, but this morning I was struggling, to say the least. I phoned the doctor's, then while waiting for a call back, I phoned my Bowens Practitioner to cancel today's appointment, and explained that I would call back after seeing my GP.
Imodium and Tramadol were quickly issued - that man needs a holiday. He can't wait to get people out of his office (or is it me?). He also advised keeping my arm in a sling for a few hours each day. I'll give it a try.
As it turns out I needn't have cancelled my appointment with my therapist as I was in and out of the surgery well in time to get the train to Narberth, but she is only contactable on her home phone, so I couldn't rearrange, which is typical.
Tramadol do sort out any pain issues, but at a price. I can't think clearly, and I'm not supposed to be cycling while "under the influence", but the pain is so acute at the moment that I'll forgo those privileges. I've decided that my bikes can have long-overdue services anyway, and clarity of thought isn't really necessary for those jobs.
I don't like the paralysis that imodium imposes on the bowel, it feels completely unnatural, but it is a necessity at the moment.

A WEIGHTY MATTER

I have put quite a bit of weight on recently, and clocked in at a hefty and depressing 15 stone a couple of weeks ago, which I found shocking.
There are numerous factors involved - the bilateral hernia operation in August last year left me with limited mobility for about 3 months, then there was Christmas. After that there was a change in antidepressants which my doctor thinks might be responsible for some of the gain in weight. Underpinning all that is the fact that I gave up smoking on 25th April 2007, so I have been eating more than I used to.
But I'm not here to make excuses. I weighed myself today and clocked in at 14.5 stone, so a slight loss in weight since last time, probably due to the current diarrhea brought on with the anti-inflammatories.
So, at 15 stone I consider myself to be a minimum of 3 stone overweight. I hate how I feel physically, so it's now time to do something about it, with spring just around the corner.

LINGERING PAIN

My shoulder is still in agony, three weeks after the original accident, if that is what caused it. I have had two sessions of Bowens Therapy, and have a third session booked for this Friday, though I'm unconvinced it will make any difference. I have been taking strong painkillers a few times a day, diclofenac as an anti-inflammatory, and smoking a little cannabis (purely for medicinal reasons of course), but to no effect, which is very worrying.
I saw my doctor yesterday, who checked the mobility of the shoulder, which is fine - it's only when I'm immobile that the pain is at its worst. He prescribed a stronger anti-inflammatory, "Mobic" or "Meloxicam" - 7.5mg daily.
They have had precisely no effect at all so far other than to give me dreadful diarrhea which means I dare not stray further than a few feet from the nearest toilet. I'll cope with that if they work, but again, I'm not hopeful, even though this is only the second day. I can double the dose if necessary.
It's worrying for a couple of reasons - one is that, like the operation, the recovery time seems disproportionately long. The other is that nothing seems to be working on it.
There is an advert on Welsh TV at the moment which says "Don't take back pain lying down", and encourages people with backache to exercise. I'M EXERCISING! The website is www.welshbacks.co.uk and is a complete waste of time.

IN THE BLEARISOME BLUR

I have been suffering for two weeks now with a very painful shoulder after tumbling off my bike. The doctor prescribed low dosage valium and ibuprofen for a week, which frankly have had no effect. I went for a session of BOWEN'S TECHNIQUE last Friday, which felt good at the time, but left me in complete agony over the weekend, which probably wasn't helped by travelling by train to Cardiff on Saturday for a Sustrans Ranger Day, but it was something I felt I needed to attend, and I'm glad I did.
Since the prescription ran out I've been using up my old stock of Co-Dydramol and Diclofenac, and the pain does seem to be abating slightly. I have a second session of Bowens booked for Friday, and see no point in seeing my doctor before then.
I find that keeping myself active helps (don't take backache lying down!) and to this end I have done a checking ride on my "patch" of NCN Route 4, which runs between Pembroke Dock and St Florence. I also cycled on into Tenby to see if I could follow the signs through Kiln Park into Tenby, which is the official route, and (to my surprise) I managed it.
In the end it was a round trip of 29 miles - I took it easy and had plenty of stops to check signs etc.
Since the Ranger Day I've been asked to write a piece on the Brunel Cycle Trail and supply a few photos, for the Hub, a magazine circulated by Sustrans, which I'm delighted to accept.

THE PAIN OF MONDAYS

I'm in agony with my left shoulder today. I fell off my bike on 20th Feb, and the pain has been growing steadily ever since. I'm making an appointment for Bowens Therapy, and I'm going to see my doctor today if possible. I cannot get comfortable at all, and no amount of stretching and flexing seems to make any difference.

IT'S THURSDAY

and a lacklustre day, weatherwise. Neither cold nor hot, completely overcast. I have cycled round town a couple of times on various shopsearches, but I'm finding the supermarkets stressful, particularly Tesco, which is currently undergoing a refit, and is pretty chaotic. It's much bigger than it was, but one wonders what they are filling the empty space with - there seems to be a much larger selection of toiletries and not much else.
Woolworths is as cramped as always, but the staff are always friendly there, which helps.
Asda is horrible, full stop. I'm missing Lidl, which is closed for a month for expansion.
My left shoulder is hurting more than it was, probably due to yesterday's tumble, but if that's the only injury I'm happy with that.

MR TUMBLE

I fell off my bike yesterday. In broad daylight. In front of the house. Quite spectacularly, in slow motion (or at least it felt like it). I was riding fairly slowly, coming up the ramp onto the walkway in front of our row of houses, where I have to do a quite tight U-turn, and somehow my bike stopped dead in the middle of the turn and just keeled over. I tried to grab the railings but my hand went straight through, as I continued to move forwards, so my arm got twisted, my head collided with the railings just above my right temple, my knees and shins took a bit of a battering and my already aching shoulder is now ten times worse. The bike, which landed on top of me, is OK. I blame the new wheels, naturally. There is no room for human error, not on my bike.
I was annoyed by a variety of things - I had been to the surgery to collect a repeat prescription (which was a day late), and at the same time order a duplicate sicknote for the one I'd lost. The receptionist was very snotty about it; "You lost it? Well, all I can do is ask the doctor if he would mind providing another, and it will be ready in, er, a day or so..." I almost expected a lecture on being more careful in future, and perhaps a few hundred lines to ensure it's not going to happen again. I did try to point out that had the doctor managed to sign the damn sicknote in the first place then none of this would have happened, but she was strictly old-school, and completely imperturbable.
The front wheel was jammed after the accident, but it had simply shifted slightly and wedged a brakeblock against the tyre; easily sorted this morning.
I'm (quite literally) painfully aware that my reflexes are not what they were; even if they are, I sometimes cannot perform the actions they require. Had I been able to shift my balance slightly in the opposite direction, I might have easily avoided the fall, but all I could do was sit there and feel myself go. Not a nice feeling.

NEW MORNINGS

I'm trying to get the hang of mornings. They're not something I've had much truck with over the years, and in fact during my tenure at the Attik, they ceased to exist completely. At the moment I'm getting up somewhere between Seven and Eight am. Jasmine and Dylan, the older two, go off to school around 8am for Breakfast Club, so it helps matters if I can be awake enough to supervise the twins while Angie takes them, then comes back. The alternative is for her to take them all, then go to the park with the twins till they're allowed in school at 8.50, and at the moment it's just too cold to do that.
It's an intense time. The kids are excited and hyper, Angie is usally storming round swearing under her breath for no reason or shouting at the top of her voice, and I'm trying to wake up gently.
Once they've gone it's a big relief, and I like to check my emails over breakfast.
I've started getting back into the breadmaking routine, so first thing is to sort out the dough for the day. I'm buying a food processor this weekend which will speed the process up slightly, and a large breadbin for storage.
At the moment, stews and casseroles are favourite for dinner, so I like to get those ready and in the oven before lunchtime, which leaves me free until 3pm. I like to listen to Radio 6 Music in the kitchen, as they play some good music, but the presenters are starting to grate on my nerves somewhat.

The kids are back at school today after half-term. It's nice to have the house to myself, but it was a good holiday, all in all, with Dylan in particular doing lots of cycling, and all of us doing lots of walking.
I've had a visit from a manager, which will now be a monthly occurrence. My sicknote is unsigned by my doctor, which I noticed last week, but I thought I'd wait to see if they noticed.
The weather is excellent - bright sunshine, but very cold.
Medicinally, I'm up to full dosage on the antidepressant (Cipralex), and down to one Merbentyl a day. I'm unconvinced about the cipralex, but I'll give it time to prove me wrong if it can.

NEWS AT LAST

Today I finally received a letter from the sister of a close friend who passed away last summer. I went to the funeral in Leicester, which meant spending three days there, and actually had quite a nice time.
At the wake there was talk of a memorial gig for Jim, which I knew I would not be attending. It was all a bit of an emotional roller-coaster, and I felt quite isolated out here when it was all over.
I can appreciate the difficulty she had, with so much to do besides grieving, but I was waiting to hear what had been decided about Jim's collection of cameras, as I had volunteered to take them if no-one in the family wanted to do so. As time went on I convinced myself that someone somewhere had raised an objection (why on earth would they?), but didn't feel able to ask about them. I had already asked Ted if he'd be happy to bring them over here in the event, and he agreed readily.
I had sent and received a few supportive texts around New Year and the time of the gig, and she had said she would write.
Coincidentally (or was it?) Ted and I were just opening a dialogue on him coming to Pembrokeshire when the letter arrived, saying that the cameras were being looked after until a transportation solution could be sought (and that I could have one of his shirts if I wanted). The letter was quite emotional, and contained a poem written by Jim's father - very moving indeed.
She and her partner are currently holidaying in the USA, and who can blame them. This gives me time to compose a reply for their return.
It's all good, in a way.

SUNDAY MORNING KILLING THE BLUES

Two children have gone to church with their mother. The remaining two are currently playing rather noisily in the bath. All together they would have been unmanageable in church, and I didn't really feel like going anyway.
On Friday I had the older two while wife went to work and twins went to childminder. We'd decided we'd go cycling, and went up to the park, where we rode around and did a few manoevres, then we rode up the cyclepath to the top road, which is quite a feat for the young ones. Jasmine was particularly impressive at uphill grinding.
I was delighted with how good they were the whole day, and what delightful company they were the whole time, despite the weather being pretty oppressive.
On Saturday, with glorious sunshine streaming in through every window, we had to go out, and I took three of them to feed the ducks and swans and seagulls at Pembroke Millpond. Another excellent outing.

FOGGY DAY

Very dull. managed again to wake myself earlyish, but getting out of bed was another matter. Good job I did as radio 6 phoned about 9.30 to check that I'd be OK to chat about my requested lost record (Say It Ain't So Joe, by Murray Head) in the afternoon. That kind of set me up for the day and galvanised my thoughts, so I got the shopping and chores done in good time, and sorted out the dough from last night's sponge. Fish and chips for tea tonight.
The radio conversation went on a bit - managed to get in mentions for Richard Hawley and Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, who have excellent CDs out right now, and also the French/Canadian animation Belleville Rendezvous as my favourite "film without stars".
A bit of email banter with Ted in Leicester, which is always good.
Feeling very down-home today. A bit hazy, probably because I remembered to take my medication. Hard to marshall thoughts into coherence.

RAINING ON MY PARADE

The weather finally lured me outside - I decided I'd do the shopping quickly, then see how much time was left before the kids came home, and have a ride to coincide. Only I got a puncture. The second this week. Back tyre again. Bontrager tyres are shit. So, I couldn't go anywhere after all, and ended up just bumbling around the kitchen all afternoon instead of getting lots of that lovely fresh sundrenched air. Arse.

INTRUSION

It was hard to wake up this morning but I managed it, though not at 7.30 when my alarm went off. My intentions were good but I hadn't got to sleep till after 2am.
It's a glorious morning, bright sunshine and no noticeable wind, and I'm hankering to get out on my bike for a good ride. There are things need doing at home but it seems too good an opportunity to miss.
My mood was buoyant until I received an email from work asking how I'm doing, when it plummeted like half a digestive into a mug of coffee. I replied that I'm fine until I think about work, but I doubt they'll get the point. How blatant do I have to be? Ask them to sack me?
They're trying to handle the situation sensitively, but a bull in a china shop would have more grace and finesse.
I started writing last night. It was quite easy, but where I started (The Writers Group) only served to remind me that I've encountered hostility and confrontation just about everywhere since I moved to this God forsaken place; at home with the neighbours (on both sides) - at work, at the writers' group, on public transport, at the pub. I therefore conclude that it has to be me.
Heard from Dave that my friend Patryck died and was buried a week or so ago. Nice of the folks at the pub to let me know. Ah well.

WEEKEND WORK

On Saturday, while the family took the bus to Haverfordwest for some shopping, I went out to photograph the spots along the cyclepath which are in need of attention. It was too cold to linger anywhere, but I got the job done, and was pleased to see so many people using the Brunel Cycle trail, though there were a few too many dogs without leads for my liking. I have sent them off to the council, so my task is complete.
On Sunday we managed to get quite a bit sorted out in the kitchen, which was becoming badly overcrowded, so all in all a fairly useful and productive weekend, though we didn't make it to church on Sunday Morning.
Monday is cold. I woke up and got up about 7.30 am so was able to see the kids before school. I will try and maintain this regime.

COMPETITION WINNER

I remember dreaming I was in pain.
Despite the relative clarity of the sky this morning, I had already decided I was taking the bus to Haverfordwest for my meeting with the Pembrokeshire Horseriding, Walking and Cycling Officer. Having failed to meet him yesterday I was not letting anything get in the way today. Despite harsh temperatures it was a delightfully sunny day. Another good meeting - it's hard to get words in edgewise, the guy is so enthusiastic, but I managed to get a few points across, and the whole thing was amicable and productive.
I had time for a brief shopping spree, and as it was a farmer's market I stocked up on edibles for the weekend, and treated us to a new electric coffee grinder. Thought about getting some new shoes in the Clarks sale, but the ones I liked weren't sufficiently reduced.
Caught the bus back home, and remarkably, both journeys were pleasant and hassle-free.
When I got home there was an email awaiting me from Big Issue North, saying I'd won the photographic competition! (click on the headline to see the winning photograph, subject "New Year Resolutions". I can't even remember what the prize is! It really did give me a boost in every direction. I've committed myself to a few meetings and days out to do with cycling, and haven't given work a second thought. Till now.

STORMY THURSDAY

I tried to cycle to Haverfordwest this morning, but the rain was ever imminent, the wind was howling, and the temperature was low, so I gave up before I'd even left the dock.
Hoping to make the journey tomorrow.
Don't know what to do now.

WHY WEDNESDAY?

Because it's the middle of the week, that's why. But why is the famous Pembrokeshire Promise "I'll have it done by Wednesday"? Who can fathom the ways of the Welsh, eh?
It was hard getting to sleep last night - tried without amitriptylene, but ended up taking 50mg round midnight, and didn't properly wake up until around 11am. Weird film on Film4 about 2 guys going out into the mountains of California - "Old Joy". It seemed to be completely lacking in joy.
It's the Union ACM at our office later today. I've asked to be nominated for a couple of positions - Equality Officer and Lead Rep, as well as Office Rep for which I was already nominated. I have no faith in our lot to run things legally, but we'll see.
My nemesis Mike Kelly has apparently fallen off a ladder and broken his wrist - highly ironic that he is our H&S Rep. I don't feel any sympathy for him whatsoever, but neither do I feel any joy - my first thought was that it was highly convenient that he has to go off sick just when my case against him is hotting up.
I've got my nominations in, hopefully, and that's as much thought as I'm prepared to give the subject. Any more would bring on anxiety.
It's sunny outside, so I'm not going to sit around in here all day, though I do need to prepare my cider-vinegar muffins for cooking later before I go out.

WHEN THE SUN REFUSED TO SHINE

I've been out to do the shopping, and in the meantime I have received a reply to one of the many emails I sent out, and it is not a good answer. As soon as I started to think about it, I began to get edgy and panicky, pacing around from room to room, and I have decided that I do not want this feeling anymore. I do not wish to have any part in a Union which seems prepared to do absolutely nothing about bullying, harrassment, racism and general stupidity.
My optimistic mood has plummeted, I am getting shaky, and I need to distract myself from this as soon as possible. And the sun is hiding behind the clouds.

MONDAY MONDAY

I am feeling pretty good today. Woke around 9 but lounged around in bed for a while. As soon as I got up the first thing on my mind was the Work/Union situation, and I fired off a couple of related texts and emails, but frankly nobody else seems to care about it, so why should I? I'm seriously thinking about handing in my notice at work, though I would prefer to be sacked, as it would make me financially better off.
There was an email awaiting me from Paul Smith at Pembrokeshire Council asking about Saturday's ride which cheered me up immensely, and I'll make a point of travelling over to Haverfordwest to meet up with him during the week.
Physically, I have a bit of pain at the right side of my pelvis, which seems to be a common occurrence after any exertion, maybe I'll just have to work through it,, or learn to live with it, but it's annoying and depressing that after a curative operation I find myself in more pain than previously.
It's hard to tell if the change of antidepressant is affecting my mood, or if I'm doing it myself. Probably a bit of both. Exercise certainly plays a large part in it.

WEEKEND GOODNESS

Saturday, 26th January - would have been my Dad's 92nd birthday, had he not died at the age of 56... this year also my inaugural ride as Sustrans Liaison Ranger for Pembrokeshire, and now officially Carmarthenshire. I did entertain thoughts of making an excuse and not attending, but it was a weak and temporary thought, and didn't last long. Friday night was full of house music from next door - they did try to keep it within an acceptable level, and I did manage to fall asleep while it was still going on (about 1.30am), so no complaint this time, which means there's a good chance it will happen again, doubtlessly a little louder next time.
Saturday morning I was up around 7am, getting ready to start the ride to Narberth with a couple of Rangers at 8.30 prompt. I struggled greatly with any incline, but level ground was OK, though by the time we reached Narberth (20 miles in 90 minutes) I was pretty worn out, and had almost convinced myself that I would sit out the ride to Amroth and back, though after a coffee in town, and a restful half-hour at the venue chatting with fellow rangers, I was ready to roll again. The beauty of the Ranger rides is the complete spectrum of abilities, and everyone is mindful of everyone else, so I was happy enough to loiter at the back and walk the hills. I managed to get a lift back - I knew by the time we had reached the venue again that I had reached my limit, and no amount of resting would enable me to ride back home. I had planned on getting the train, but the offer of a lift was thankfully forthcoming.
We had a positive and constructive meeting, and I made some new acquaintances, also consolidating some old ones.
Upon getting home I was exhausted, but in bed I was restless and uncomfortable and slept fitfully, having chosen to not take any medication.
Today I feel fully rested, and no aches and pains of note, so my intention now is to get back to some gentle working out at the gymn again, and to cancel the referral to the surgeon.
Medicinally I am currently up to 10mg Cipralex, and 50mg Amitriptylene, which I didn't take last night, so I shall take one tonight.
I am still taking merbentyl, which is another suspect in the memory tests, so once I am off Amitriptylene I will consider either changing that or doing without.
Omeprazole is really the only one I would not consider changing, as it does such an excellent job of controlling stomach acid.

MORE COMPLAINING

Why is this happening? It's a question I've avoided until now, but things are getting desperate. Four people in my office are conspiring against me - I have been focussing on the ringleader, or rather who I thought the ringleader might be, but I may have to look further than this. I've put in yet another official complaint to management, and I've tried to make union officials listen, but again there's a complete and utter wall of apathy from the union.

FRIDAY BIKEY STUFF

It is Friday. Wife has the day off to take the twins to see the opthalmologist at Carmarthen Hospital. I would have taken them, but I need to get everything ready for a day of riding tomorrow, for it is the day of the Sustrans Ranger Meeting in Narberth. I have agreed to ride there with Jon from Pembroke, which means we are setting out around 8.30am, hoping to get there at 10.30. I may be being optimistic, but what the hell.
There will also be a 20 mile ride when we get there, so I think that will be enough exercise for one day, and will probably return by train.
I'm hoping all the hassles I've had getting this thing organised are worthwhile. My soul needs an invigorating massage.

THURSDAY AGAIN

I went up to work today, in order that myself and a fellow rep could sort our our mutual nominations for the elections at the forthcoming AGM, only to find the nomination sheet had been removed from the Union Noticeboard. I have made high union officials aware of this, and lodged a second complaint with management. It not only amazes as to how this arsehole thinks he can pull stunts like this and get away with it, but also that he does actually seem to be getting away with it.
Nobody seems to really care what he gets up to.

THAT THURSDAY FEELING

I'm now looking forward to Saturday - there are still a couple of things which need to be organised, but it's now a plan that is coming together. I was glad to receive a call from another ranger last night arranging for us to cycle to the venue in Narberth together, which is much better than arriving alone, I think. Also had a visit from a work colleague last night concerning some union stuff, which was useful, and good to see someone outside the family.
I'm also feeling better generally, which could be down to the new antidepressant Cipralex - I have reduced my Amitriptylene dosage by half and doubled the Cipralex, so we'll see how that goes for a while.
It's Thursday, which is Cycling Weekly day, always a good one.
The visit from my work colleague forced me to think about work last night, and I really cannot imagine ever getting back to the stage where I actually enjoyed the job. Too much has happened.
Tonight my wife has to work extra hours, which is very inconvenient, but I suppose it must be tolerated, though what would she do if I was at work and therefore unable to collect the children from school?

AT PEACE WITH THE NIGHT

Right now, and I know it won't last long, I feel at peace with everything around me. I feel on top of my problems and burdens, and that I can afford to relax for a few moments.
Yesterday there was a memorial "jam" session in Leicester for my good friend James Gamble who passed away last summer. I never did intend to be there, but it was nice that his sister and PJ both got in touch with me on the day, so even from so far away, I felt a part of it. I said my goodbyes at the funeral, where I was roped in as pall bearer, which was an honour, and something which I never thought I would experience.
The house is silent, and I wish it could be like this, even just for a few minutes, during the day. The problem is they are small houses crammed too close together with no sound insulation whatsoever - I can hear my neighbour walking upstairs, which he seems to do with remarkable frequency. The problems we have had with the bassplayer have made me dread hearing a sound from there house lest it be starting up again, but I know I have the support of the Council and the Police in this matter.
Tomorrow I need to be up early, to see if younger daughter needs to go to the doctor, and also to book myself an appointment, in order to discuss changes in my medication, as advised by the doctor at the memory clinic. I may just ask for the next appointment with the regular GP I see and trust.
I shall now go to bed and attempt to concentrate on The Northern Lights (Philip Pullman) from where I left off, which was on the train back from Yorkshire.

PROGESS ON THE CASE

This morning I was interviewed by HR Investigation team. My union Rep Ian came to the house around 8.30 and we had a chat about it before going up to the office around 9am.
The interview was taped, and I have the feeling it went well. As we came out Mike Kelly and Sian Thomas were lurking in the corridor, which struck me as far too much of a coincidence to actually be one - I think Mike now knows what is afoot and is attempting to find out how far things have gone. I feel physically sick to be near the bloke.
However, the thing to now is distract myself from it and await the outcome.

THE WEEKEND ENDS HERE

A busy time these past few days - yesterday I was due to meet author Rob Penn off the train in Haverfordwest and have a short cycle ride with him, then go to the Memory Clinic appointmet at 2pm.
I got up around 9 to fairly dismal weather - cold and rainy, and considered getting the bus and forgetting the ride, but an optimistic text from Rob spurred me on and I managed to force myself to cycle. By the time I set off the sky had cleared slightly and looked promising, though crossing the Cleddau Bridge was a white-knuckle affair with a strong crosswind howling through the railings.
Made it to the station in good time and met up with Rob and Gary, who is a ranger I'd not met previously from the North of the county, and rode along with them for half an hour or so along the Celtic Trail, before turning back for my appointment.
The Memory Clinic was nothing like I expected.
I was asked to describe my problems in my own words and didn't do very well, really.
I was then given a physical examination which included testing reflexes, listening to back and chest, and testing my eyes. The conclusion was that I do not have dementia or Alzheimers, but the doctor is also taking blood samples and arranging for a brain scan.
His conclusion was that my forgetfulness is probably a combination of my current stress and depression, and a side-effect of my medication, which seems logical to me.
I'm loathe to mess around with medication which works, as it's taken so long to find the right balance, but I could do with a clearer mind than the one I have.
I missed out on a heavy downpour while I was at the hospital, and the weather remained dry for my homeward journey, where I encountered Gary once more on his way back to North Pembrokeshire. I called in at Mike's Bikes in Haverfordwest before setting off, to buy some Sealskinz waterproof socks (for £25) and to give him my contact details as Liaison Ranger.
Coming back I was very tired and the journey was a struggle, but I made it, and don't seem to have too many aches and pains today, which is encouraging. I will have a few more rides of varying intensity and see how I go, them I may resume my sessions at the gym, which were curtailed by my doctor warning me off strenuous exercise and referring me back to my surgeon, which has a waiting list of six months. I do not want to wait that long before exercising as I'll be clinically obese by then.

IS IT FRIDAY ALREADY?

I was so convinced that yesterday was Wednesday that it feels like I've leapt forward a day, or lost one somewhere. When you're working, that feeling is a bonus; when your time is your own, you wonder where the time has gone.
I'm nervous about the Memory Clinic appointment on Monday, and I'm glad to be able to meet a fellow writer and cyclist beforehand (Rob Penn, writing a book on the Celtic Trail and riding various sections thereof), as it will give me something else on which to focus.
I'm also apprehensive about the meeting on Tuesday with the Investigation team at work. I'm not really nervous about the actual meeting - my nervousness is that the investigation won't go anywhere - it really does rely on Mike Kelly being the twat he is and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, which he is eminently capable of doing, though I will not underestimate his sliminess and craftiness.
I slept for a very long time last night - I went to bed around 7pm, fell asleep about 8, and didn't get up till around 9:30 this morning. I did wake up around midnight, but not for long.
Tomorrow I will have a day devoted to family things - perhaps instigate some baking of biscuits so they can use their new pastry cutters.
Sunday will be a day of church and rest.
Then, let the battles commence, at least that's what it feels like from here.

WEDNESDAY

I recall at the Moblog Meeting on Saturday that we had a lighthearted discussion on days of the week, which were the best and worst and why, and Wednesday came out pretty badly. I'm generally in favour of Wednesdays; they are the point on which the whole week pivots - in a working week, it's all downhill from Wednesday lunchtime onwards. They are a vital part of the Pembrokeshire Promise ("I'll have it done by Wednesday" but which Wednesday is never specified), and today, I've just checked on the calendar, is actually Thursday. This happens far too often to be funny, and it's things like this have led me to get my memory checked out. I'm aware at work that I've been putting the wrong date on claims because of this, only by the time I realise, it's too late to go and change it.
Council contractors are painting our new doors today - I can hear their radios and chatter, and the odd thud and thump coming from somewhere. I suppose it makes a change from kids screaming at each other or the incessant yapping of Yorkshire Terriers.

LOOKING BACK

It would seem this blog is much older than I thought it was. I think this is because nothing much is happening in the way of "progress" - the incident at work and ensuing complaint have taken over and eclipsed everything else, and rather than find new ways of living, which was the original intention, I have become mired in union and work procedure and red tape.
I am very resentful about this. This is all shit I don't need, and the fact that other people have kind of leaped on my bandwagon since I made the complaint just compounds this feeling. It should feel positive that because of my lead other people feel strong enough to speak out - but I'm afraid I do not trust the motives of at least one individual in this, and that taints any satisfaction I might derive from that thought.

OFF AGAIN

After a visit to my GP yesterday I have a sicknote for one month, and I feel relieved, even though this may result in me getting the sack. The thought of cycling up that hill in the earlymorning just to four hours of answering soul-destroying calls from scottishpeople wanting crisis loans is just too much to bear at the moment. I want to hang on in there to see this complaint through to its bitter end, now it has come this far. After the meeting in Leeds I was all for leaving PCS and joining another union, but as this would be leaving the other reps to fight the battle on their own I wouldn't feel too good about this, and have decided to see it through.
Now I don't have the pressure of work for the next month I feel a bit better, and I am starting the new course of antidepressants today.
I have enjoyed blogging my photos from Leeds and savouring some of the thoughts and memories from those few days. I have also been enjoying my three new CDs; it is a long time since music has grabbed me the way these have, and it's nice that I have more than one CD to play to death.
Sustrans work has been frustrating, but I think we are reaching an understanding at last, and I am looking forward to the meeting on 26th January. There is also the chance to meet Rob Penn next Monday - he is writing a book about The Celtic Trail, and riding sections of it. I'm hoping to ride from Haverfordwest to Tenby with him, if I can rearrange the appointment at the Memory Clinic.

WHICH WAY TO TURN

The Leeds trip has been done; the Union Mandarins are well aware of our little problem, but I feel like I have sacrificed myself in the process, or something like that. I feel completely let down by a union who advises us to oppose our bully at every turn, to make sure none of the BEC positions go unchallenged. That's all very well, but that leaves two of us, neither of whom are particularly well-known or popular within our vast office, to challenge three positions amid voters to whom the term apathetic would be a compliment. The fact that I am currently not a Union Rep, having been denied that by the bully, means that I will only be supported in a kind of proxy way - Rob and Sonia will receive the full support which they can then pass on to me should they so wish. I think I'm fucking disgusted, and am currently considering leaving the union altogether.

The rest of the trip was rather wonderful - just wandering round Leeds and admiring my favourite city was quite enough on its own, but getting to meet some fellow bloggers for the first time was the icing on the cake. I have made some firm friends there.
I found it difficult, being away from the family, those sudden moments when you think "shit, if something happens there is around 400 miles of distance between us" are not nice. I also found that I was constantly on the move when alone - not particularly scared or agitated by anything, just a feeling that I had to keep moving, and I thought after the Friday that I might have overdone it a bit, but all was well after a few beers and a night's sleep.

The journey back was arduous. The train went all the way from Manchester to Pembroke Dock, which was good in that I could go to sleep with no fear of overshooting my stop, but it also meant 81/2 hours of uninterrupted travelling, with no refreshment trolley after we had crossed the England/Wales border ("they don't put them on on a Sunday, see?")
I did fall asleep, though only for a couple of 20 minute intervals - there were just too many stops for it to be in any way relaxing - about 25 stops in total, so it was a fairly regular stop-start regime. We did miss out Swansea, which I was happy about, as it meant that the lunatics who normally join the train there had had to get an earlier train, but we made up for it at Llanelli, when a couple of exceedingly drunk arseholes got on, and had to be coaxed off again at Burry Port, which took a good half hour. I felt relieved when we were on our way again, but as soon as we had left Carmarthen my serenity was dealt a further blow, with a guard announcing that anyone heading for stations beyond Whitland had to go to the back of the train as it was to be split in 2, so we remaining passengers were herded and corralled into a single carriage, where the floor was awash with beer and piss and the covers had been removed from the lights leaving stark bare fluorescence. Very Restful,as you can doubtless imagine. Fellow passengers ahd given up all pretence of being human by now, as they always do once past Swansea and away from prying eyes. Grown women were standing up on chairs to talk to others, the bloke behind me stretched his legs out across the aisle and and laid flat out with his feet on the opposite seats, jolting the back of my seat every time he fucking well moved, which was fairly often. There was a poster by the door extolling us all to "Be Considerate to Fellow Passengers and Keep The Noise Down When Travelling".
I coccooned myself within my MP3player and did my level best to ignore everything, and eventually got home around 10pm with no incidents to report.
I couldn't be bothered with work today, nor could I be bothered making up an excuse, so I waited for them to phone me, and told them I had an appointment with a nurse from the memory clinic (which was true) which I must have forgotten to tell them about, and was certain they'd assume I was taking the piss, but all seemed to go OK. I'm thinking of taking a further few weeks off, but if I do that the chances are I won't be going back, either being pushed or jumping makes little difference.
I've noticed during the writing of this that I've dwelled on the negative and skirted around the positive. I'll make an effort to be more positive soon.

TAKING THE DAY OFF

Insomnia/bad sleep pattern is the curse of the moment, and I knew last night that I wouldn't be making it in to work today - I didn't even bother to think up an excuse, but blamed it on my abdomen, and went to the doctor anyway, who gave me coedine and paracetamol, referred me back to the surgeon and warned me off strenuous exercise, though I think I shall continue at the gym, if only for my own sanity. I don't feel particularly motivated, but I do feel better afterwards, despite the pain.
Today feels cold, though maybe due to my tiredness I'm just feeling it more - I think I shall take many layers with me to Leeds tomorrow.

JOIN THE MOVEMENT

Becoming a Volunteer Ranger for Sustrans was one of the best moves I have ever made. Being ill last year put me at a bit of a disadvantage, and although I had expressed an interest in taking on the role of Liaison Ranger, purely because nobody else seemed interested, I wasn't sure whether I might be taking on too much. However, I got sort of swept along on a tide of enthusiasm where everyone just sort of assumed that I'd be doing it, and here I am. Today I have had my first face-to-face meeting with Paul Smith, the "Horseriding, Walking and Cycling Officer" for Pembrokeshire County Council (snappy title - lucky bugger). He's full of energy and enthusiasm and we chatted easily for a couple of hours. He's definitely a man with whom I can work. Next step is a meeting with ourselves and Roanna. It's a bit annoying that these people are getting paid for what I'm doing voluntarily, but maybe this is a step in the right direction for me, career-wise.
I could not stand being at work this morning, and eventually left about a half hour early (with permission of course). The time drags, the phone lines are constant, and there's no change in tone the whole time, an endless stream of scottish hard luck stories which all begin to merge into one: "mah benefits were all paid intae the bank this morning and went straight back out to pay the phone bill" "What? BT just took £120 out of your account without asking you?" "Aye" "Do you have a copy of the phone bill?" "Nah" and so on and so on until you become blurred by disbelief, which is not a situation I like to find myself in. This is not the job I signed up for.
On top of the doom and gloom of the workaday routine there's the complaints. I'm getting more and more stressed by the whole damned affair, more and more annoyed that others are happily riding along on the crest of the wave that I alone created, so it's best to not think about it till I have to. I think I've already decided that I won't be going to work tomorrow.

BACK TO WHATEVER WE CALL NORMAL...

I suppose this is the final weekend before "everything is back to normal" and the majority of routine-laden people heave a collective sigh of relief and welcome back their humdrum monotony.
In our domain it is anything but normal. Wife starts a new job at the local school on Monday, while I continue with my despised job, still on part-time hours. On Thursday I travel to Leeds to meet with the Union bigwigs. I've managed to turn it into a long weekend with a little help from sis-in-law and a few mobloggers who want to meet up in Leeds on the Saturday, which has helped take my mind off the task in hand.
I've managed to "keep busy" these past 2 days - yesterday I managed to get myself to the gym with a minimum of anxiety, and had quite a strenuous workout, which left me energised for the rest of the day, and on into today, when I got up determined that my bike would get cleaned today if it killed me. Outside was cold and rainy so I scraped most of the mud off and brought the bike into the kitchen for the more intricate work, only when I'd finished, it became apparent that all was not well with the bottom bracket, which was issuing clanks bangs and grinds with every push on the pedals, so I rode it over to Enterprise Bikeshop at Honeyborough, and took along my contact details as Liaison Ranger.
I had to leave the bike there, and after a brief chat I walked back (about 3 miles), regretting not having taken my camera with me. It was quite arduous as I was walking in my cycling shoes, which cause aching shins after a mile or so, and when I got back there were a few ominous pains in my abdomen, which didn't feel very therapeutic at all. They are still there, down the left side of my stomach, but only hurt when I apply pressure to the area. The bike will be ready early next week, so I decided to bring my road bike out of hibernation, and managed to forget to take a lock with me down to Tesco, so I made the trip twice, which was a bit more unexpected exercise. I was worried that I might need to raise the handlebars to ride comfortably, but I was actually more comfortable than I had expected to be, which is encouraging, as I much prefer my road bike for lengthier journeys, such as Tenby and back for the meditation sessions.
Having had quite a hectic day I decided it was time to get back into the breadmaking I have neglected over the Christmas holidays. I have some new local flour and some new recipe books, and am currently trying a new recipe for "Bara Can" (Sunday White Bread) from a booklet of welsh recipes. It is cooking now and smells divine.

THE DAY AFTER

The day after New Year's Day. My little brother's birthday, often overlooked because of its proximity to the big festivals. It's difficult to know what to do for the best as he is in mid-separation at the moment, refusing to give us an alternative address, only contactable by text.
I've decided he's getting an address book with all the family addresses in, so he can stop asking me every few months.
In among all the festive days we have had recently there are a couple of frighteningly deep depressions. New Year's Eve was the most notable, when I retired to bed before 9pm, but didn't get to sleep till after 4am. There was a fair amount of noise from next-but-ones' "party" - I use quotations because it didn't sound like they were particularly enjoying themselves, but then, it never does. They always sound angry. The father had been forced into doing the rounds during the day to let us all know that they'd be providing a noisy evening, and that, if we wanted to, we were welcome to "have a look" at their midnight firework display. At least this year they don't seem to have given their kids wildly inappropriate presents such as mini motorbikes, as they did a couple of years ago.
The day after Boxing Day I had to call the police to sort out my bassplaying neighbour on the other side, an unwelcome resurgence of an age old problem. On Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day he decided he would play his bass in the living room rather than the well-soundproofed room his Dad has made for him in their shed, no doubt to let us all hear his (lack of) virtuosity. I complained each time, and each time but the last it was turned down. The last time, he was home alone, and very resentful of my intrusion into his stoned little world, refusing to turn it down, so I warned him that if he continued I'd report it, which I did. Having had a three year long battle to get some peace from this little shit, this was a most unwelcome return to form, but it seems the heavy-handed approach has done the trick, as I've heard nothing since. I haven't seen his dad around at all, and am wondering if he's in jail or been murdered (no joke).
Also, after work on Monday I intended going to the gym, which turned out to be closed. I really need to get stuck into a harsh fitness regime, and the longer I leave it the harder it gets (ooer missus!)