Sunday

WELCOME 2007 and HAPPY NEW YEAR READERS

Well this is my first blog of 2007. I shall probably spend all of January and most of February writing 2006, then i'll get it right for a while before relapsing in April again. Thank goodness we don't use cheques anymore, God I used to waste so many cheques writing the wrong date.
Let's hope that in matters of health for my and the people I care about, 2007 is a better year than 2006.
I am still keeping my resolution that I made at the end of 1999, not to make new years resolutions, so nothing to write in that regard. My pillow beckons and the night draws to a close. Tomorrow (later today actually), I am driving up to Dickens Heath to see mom for her Birthday. Jennifer is driving back from her boyfriends place in Oxford via mom's, so a mini party. James can't make it as he is working, and Hannah is apparantly going to Cheltenham Races with her boyfriend, so she won't be accompanying.
James is, (seasonally appropriately), skating on thin ice having decided to phone me to wish me HNY, even though I specifically asked him not to do so. Not funny. Not Clever.
Only a short blog, medications induced sleep is winning.

Thursday

Christmas is over at the Reeley Houshold for another year MIL has gone home with FIL (Fiancee In Law), Mom has gone home with Sister, and I may even turn off the Christmas Lights. The tree this year was quite small and may just go back in it's box, as is. I had some great gifts from people, and obviously some thought went into them. Good job I wasn't relying on the christmas elves to stock up my underwear or sock drawers - nothing doing. I had some great jumpers, and an excellant selection of quirky books, great for knowledge growth and also dipping into for entertainment. Winner of the Most Unexpected Gift prize must go to my son who managed to surprise us with a pair of goats. Runner up in this category is my sister who bought us a vine, in a vinyard. I read the small print, and I don't think that they expect me to go and do the weeding. If they did, I think I would send the goats! I even had a call from my brother this year on Christms Day,albeit as Dr Who was about to start, so I must confess to cutting him short, MY BAD!
Apart from the uncertaintity about Yvonnes Lump, (we may have to go private again), it has been a most excellent Christmas, not perfect because of the lump, but all together most excellent.
Next Christmas I would like to spend in the Maldives, alone, with me, my wife, my meds and a laptop to write. Ah, no commercialism, and pure bliss.
Mom's birthday next week (2nd Jan), so a trip up to Redditch for Lunch I think. I'll see if the twins can come with. May post a photo or two yet.
Couple of different subject matters for todays post. Wry Interest and Health. First the wry interest:
Well, I thought that nothing much would take me by surprise, in a pleasant way. This standard from the British Standards Institute BS 6008 proved me wrong. ISO 3103 would appear to be the same standard but regulated by the International Organization for Standardization. I suppose if I stop and think about it logically it shouldn't really suprise me, but I always supposed that 'Standards' would be more for things like bricks, or glass or other tangible objects and measures. I suspect that this is my failing and not that of the standards organisations. In reality anything that could be made in a repetitive process should have a standard methodology, it just never occurred to me that a cup of tea was any such thing.
ISO 6668 then gives us a standard for preparing coffee, and I should imagine that any number of odd things that we do day in and day out can also fall under the auspices of the standards bodies.
Okay, off to check ISO6668, I'm a tad thirsty.

Now the Health:
Just come back from the GP. Good news and bad. The blood sugars have stabilised at between 7 and 8 prior to eating and he is happy about that (as I am !), BP still a little high at an average of 150/90, and I am suffering weight gain (1 stone added in 4 weeks)as a side effect of the Avandamet. A bit of fine tuning and so an Update on my daily meds.

  • Avandamet (4mg rosiglatazone, 1000mg metformin) twice daily
  • xenical (120mg orlistat) thrice daily (New for me!)
  • aspirin 75mg mornings
  • perindopril 4mg mornings
  • amlopidine 5mg mornings
  • doxazosin 4mg night
  • simvastatin 20mg night
  • oxycodone 5mg twice daily (pain killers at last!!!!!! :-) )

  • Net result of all the meds is a general feeling of queasyness, an 'upset tummy' most of the time, some cracking headaches and let's just describe me as 'loose'. But the upside is that the Blood Sugars are under control and the BP is down from where it was, ( i was getting 200+ over 100+), that has to be good for my long term health. It'll be interesting to see how things go with the fine tuning that the new meds will bring. My GP also managed to get my opthalmic appointment bought forward at the local hospital, and now I have an appoinment tomorrow. Now that is what I call service.

    Sunday

    Call me a cynic, but everything about this, especially the way it is worded, strikes me as a con. I haven't worked out quite how yet.
    http://www.steorn.net/en/technology.aspx?p=5

    Phrases like 'certain technologies' raise my suspicions in a certain way. ;-)
    When I went to school I was taught the First Law of Thermodynamics, which is one of the most important fundamental principles of physics. In any process the total energy of the universe remains constant. Energy is never created or destroyed, it just changes form, so if their claim is true, where are they getting the free energy from? If they are putting out more energy than apparantly they are putting in, then they must be sucking it from somewhere, and so, by the laws of physics:
    The Steorn Machine [May] Suck

    I have spotted this website on free energy that you find of interest:
    http://amasci.com/freenrg/fnrg.html
    Call me conspiratorial if you will, but..
    We sat down to enjoy Strictly Come Dancing Final last night, and a few things dawned upon us. For the past few weeks one particular contestant seems to be have been consistently marked a little higher by the judges than his dancing actually merited, this was most obviously the case in the Argentine Tango last week when he was, in our opinion the second best dancer, not the first. We also note that the judges words can be just as choreographed as the dancing and can be designed to lead the voting public. The editing of the programme can be used by the makers to install a subliminal view, for example in two films by supporters of each dancers, if the volume used by the maker was a little louder for one dancer than the other, that would have an effect on your interpretation. I could go on and on but wont, to us the whole thing smacked of manipulation and took the shine off it. For these reasons I would not vote.
    My views on the final three contestants are :
    Emma should have been in the final, but wasn't, possibly due to the above. Great shame.
    Matt Dawson has come on the most, has improved the most, has danced the most entertainingly and fully deserved to be in the final. Lillya Kopilova (forgive spelling please) is just the most beautiful and talented partner and was perfect for Matt, there seemed real chemistry between them.
    Mark Ramprakash has improved, his Latin dances were very good, but I think (despite the views above) that Karen Hardy won it for Mark. If you watch her performances, she really sells them, she manages to keep herself facing the judges and between her partner and the judges far more than Lillya did, (thus keeping the focus on the professional not amateur dancer) and she smiled and sang and danced with gusto and cheered the audience along - great, great tactics. I can see why, in addition to her great talent, she wins so much. Consumate professionalism.
    I am not carping about the result, that would be churlish, I think Matt was the better celebrity and Karen the better professional, either couple therefore could be viewed as worthy winners.

    Saturday

    Two things made me laugh that I thought I would share.
    KP Salted Peanuts. On the packet it says 'Warning May Contain Nuts'
    Zimovane Sleeping Tablets. On the box it says 'Warning may cause drowsiness'
    Fantastic
    Christmas has now formally arrived in the Reeley Household. I know this because Mother In Law (aka Mil) has arrived and is esconced in an upstairs room. Welcome Mil

    In England we tend to think of this time of year as Christmastime, and generally wish each other a Merry Christmas, and I happily follow this convention.

    Reading blogs and looking at the news recently I see a trend in Britain to pander to the whims of minority groups. Some authorities have banned decorations or other formal events that are based on Christianity. I think that is utterly stupid. Whether you, or I, are a practising Christian or not, the country is basically a Christian country by a majority of over 90% (so I have read). When I was bought up in the 50's I was taught a simple rule, 'when in rome' so why can't these few minorities 'suffer' our Christian ways and let the majority (over 50 million) enjoy or suffer Merry Christmas and not have to endure 'Happy Holidays'.

    My Jewish friends have Hanukkah, and the African Americans I know have Kwanzaa. My readers who are pagans have Solstice and the followers of the ancient Roman Empire have Dies Natalis Invicti Solis which also falls on the 25th of December. I don't pretend to understand what any of these various festivals are about, what I do know is that on the last Saturday before CHRISTMAS in Britain, the only people not out shopping are driving in cars to find a parking place so that they can go shopping.

    I have a plan. Yvonne and I will get in our car and go and get in the traffic jam. She will then go out and shop for one hour, by which time I will have been able to move the car exactly 30 yards forward. She will then return, put her shopping in the boot, change places with me, and I will go and shop for an hour. We will repeat this process until we have bought all that we can. We will then nip out of the traffic queue and head home to wrap, of fill the larder, or freezer as required. No parking fees. This works because we are British, and British people queue. I just plan to exploit that concept. That is because we are British, and British people are adaptive.

    Wednesday

    Well all the preparations for Christmas are more or less done. Primarily, I have all the drugs I need (meds I mean!) to see me through. Looking forward to having loads of family across and it will be a couple of days of feasting. There are people that I won't see on the day, and that is of course sad, but thoughts can always be of those that aren't with us.

    Here are a few words fashioned into a fiction that I am working on. It is along the lines of my Short Story 'A Storm In The Night'

    Alone With Me

    Henry looked across at Catherine as she sat brushing her hair in front of the mirror. That her reflection couldn’t be seen didn’t seem to matter to either of them. He loved the way that she slowly brushed her hair, one section at a time, ensuring that the brush went to the very ends without a snag or tangle. When she had finished brushing, Catherine would sit and pull out a number of Alice bands and select just the right one for her mood. The strange thing was he could never work out her mood from the colour of her band.
    After brushing her hair, Catherine would usually cleanse her face with that wonderful makeup from the specialist makeup supplier based on the Isle of Wight. Henry always had to make sure that there was a good stock – and often kept a weather eye out for special deals and collections that promised so much value for money. To be honest, he quite liked using some of the products himself – especially for shaving. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone of course. Just he and Catherine knew, and Catherine would not dream of embarrassing him by letting little secrets like that out. Of that he was quite sure.
    He had picked up a bit of a bargain for her just the other day, and wondered if she would spot it. Some nail foil that would give her a magical super shiny polish on her nails, it would go so well with her dark purple hair band. He had carefully put the small foil kit in her makeup drawer at the dressing table – she always preferred to find her surprises rather than be given them.
    Catherine completed brushing her hair and opened the drawer that housed her Alice bands. Catherine picked out a few, one at a time, and placed them on the dresser surface in front of her. She seemed to narrow her choice to a burgundy or a green, giving Henry a moments disappointment, that he quickly hid behind a mask of neutrality as he looked across at her.
    “Silly,” Catherine said, “I am only teasing. You know I will go for purple – I could not let pass your present, now could I?” Henry got up and walked across to her, bent forward and kissed the crown of Catherine’s head, the scent of orange blossom and lavender strong in his nostrils, after tones of vanilla followed him as he returned to his seat and watched once more as his wife completed her toilette.
    “Hmm that was a lovely kiss; I don’t know what I did to deserve that, but thank you. I do love that after shave you have on to day. Is it Xeryus?”
    “Yes, my Love, I was going to go with the Dolce today, but somehow, felt I wanted something more passionate in aroma. Xeryus does it us every time. But it seems a shame to just use the one scent. The Dolce is great for everyday use, you know, like when I am in the office and not going to see you.”
    “But darling, you do see me at the office. We so often have lunch together, or even a morning breakfast snack. And I do so love it when we rid up to the escarpment and look across the valley, holding hands. It is as if we were King and Queen of the whole world and that we were looking down on our dominion. Gods, you and I, Gods”
    “Yes my love, I know, but I save the Xeryus for other special occasions, such as now, when it is only you and I, and no one else to share our moments with. “
    Henry arose and left the bedroom and headed down to the dining room. As he passed the landing window he looked out and saw Mrs Mitchell unloading her supermarket shopping from the boot of her small car. In the dining room, Henry opened the globe and selected a fine Caribbean dark rum and two tall glasses. He went to the freezer and filled the glasses with ice, before pouring the rum over, about half filling each glass. A quick slice of lime in each glass, and then he topped up with Vanilla Cola for him, and Cherry Cola for Catherine.
    “Thank you Darling” she said as she took the glass from him, turning back up the hallway to return upstairs.
    “I would have bought it up to you, you know.” Henry said to her naked retreating back. “And you really ought to wear clothes when the drapes aren’t drawn. You know that Mr Sampson has a poor heart and a view of you passing is sure to bring along his!”
    “Don’t mock” She called back as she sat once more at the dresser and prepared to add the foil to her nails – each perfectly manicured and shaped in the square French style, rather than the popular American style, a style so readily adopted by the English girls. ‘A shame’, Catherine had once said to Henry, ‘that these girls today only seem to be educated by Hollywood films, and not by classical French cinema.’
    Catherine carefully applied the foil adhesive to her nails, very slowly and very assuredly – ensuring no spillage on her quicks or cuticles. Each nail started off a slight pink, and when the adhesive dried to a clear shine, it was time to add the foil, pressing and ensuring that the foil folded to the very edge of each nail, before pulling off the foil backing to leave behind a high mirror finish – a finish that no mere liquid polish would ever reproduce.
    Having completed her hair, her face and her nails, Catherine applied a single coat of liquid shimmer to her lips – no colour, just a very wet looking top coat and turned to look at Henry who was standing in the door way.
    Henry turned away – he could not stand to see her looking so beautiful. It hurt him deep into the pit of his stomach, leaving an ache that could never be soothed. Henry turned away and looked up straight into Catherine’s eyes. Catherine was now in front of him in the hallway. He hated it when she did that. She leant forward and kissed him fully on the lips, a slow pressure, heat rising between them as her lips pressed on his, her tongue gently probing, her body – still unclothed – pushing against him as her passion transferred from passive mode. Caring not that the neighbours could see them had they chosen to glance up at the unclothed window at that precise moment. Henry and Catherine kissed and caressed and loved in the confines of the upper hallway, and as they slowly sank to their knees, Henry’s hands sought and found the orbs of her breasts, cupped their weight and gently squeezed.
    Catherine slipped her hand under his shirt and rubbed his chest before slowly undoing the buttons and sliding the shirt off his back, and then kissing his slightly hirsute chest in a triangular pattern of manly nipple to manly nipple to navel and then back to a nipple. Whilst her lips worked at his upper body, her hands worked at the waist of his trousers as she sought to free him from their confines.
    As he lay naked, he looked up and caught the glisten that was a tear in the corner of her eye, a tear that formed and dropped to his chest, and read her lips as she silently mouthed her love for him. Catherine settled slowly down on him, her readiness finding him with ease, allowing no resistance on him entering her. Henry arched his back as Catherine clenched her muscles to hold him tight, and then with so little movement of her body she silently rocked, relaxing and tightening her muscles in a rhythm that soon had him on the brink.
    Henry closed tight his eyes and tried to keep the boiling at bay, her muscles driving him almost into a frenzy of sensation and love and as he thought that failure was upon him she slowed and stopped and her muscles relaxed. She leant forward to kiss him and as he felt her lips on his Catherine raised herself slightly and released him. Catherine turned and gently sat facing his feet, slowly she moved her body back and her head down until Henry could feel her breath slowly stirring the fire that smouldered in his groin, a breath that waned and dissolved like the thinness of a spring mist.
    A huge sadness descended on Henry as Catherine once more went from his view and his presence, and 'Once more,' he thought, 'I am alone with me.'

    Monday

    All the NATO Phonetic words are in the following short story, which is 300 words long exactly. It was written for a competition to encourage good communication skills.

    “Oh Papa” Juliet cried, “You know that Romeo and his brother, Oscar, are on their way here from India to continue the dance training. Oscar has your duty free whiskey, which was a bit difficult for him to carry considering he is travelling in his Salvation Army uniform. You must see him, Papa, you must, though I love Romeo dearly, I can’t bear that awful dance.”
    “Juliet, my child, hush now” Mike replied, “Victor has already telephoned and informed me that I need to get to the Delta Meridian Hotel in Quebec to meet Charlie for a round of golf, assuming the X-ray on my leg is clear that is. Dancing lessons with Oscar are out of the question.”
    “Papa, you should consider suing Charlie, that silly Yankee, for dropping that kilo weight on your foot. You have been in plaster since November and I want you well for the wedding.”
    “Your Momma echo’s that view Juliet, but it would be bad for business. We do so much business on the golf course, and Charlie is key to that. I really value his contacts, suing him would not be in our best interests, and anyway it was only a small break and soon healed”
    “Oh Papa, I shall still have to Foxtrot with Romeo at the wedding.”
    “You do not have to suffer anything my precious. I shall send you to Lima to practice the Tango, you can stop off at Sierra Leone on the way, I need to get the Zulu Chief’s agreement on the Alpha Project and he is there for an African Business Unity conference. You can flatter him into a signature for me, and then go off to Lima. We can then let Romeo know you two will Tango at your wedding. Perfect”
    “Bravo papa, Bravo!”

    Sunday

    It doesn't really matter, but I thought that I would fall into the 'let's publicise the blog' trick. So I googled and found a number of sites that were supposed to help you publicise your blog and so I did all the necessary stuff, added html code to my blog, added adsense codes and similar, changed my home page, clicked on over a hundred blogs. Pinged this and pinged that. I saw some great blogs, that is true, and some truly awful ones. Many many blogs about Iraq and American politics, most of which didn't atract my attention, few blogs kept my attention beyond 10 seconds, hardly any blogs had me reading below what was initially displayed on the first screen. There is a lot out there, but little of it is of interest to anything more than a closed or select group, and I know that my blog falls into that category. C'est la vie.
    The effect on my traffic was nil, no extra viewers, readers or subscribers.
    That is of no surprise to me, like all these schemes offering ways to make money that are little more than falsehoods and lies, the schemes to increase traffic and make money at the same time seem the same, a different twist, but still the same.
    It seems that 'Adult' sites have the most traffic, and if you want publicity or to make money, your chances increase if you go that route.
    It seems therefore that my traffic will stay at the levels it is, I shan't take this blog the adult way.

    Thursday

    From Sunday 10th d...
    Here I am with my babies. The occasion was Mom's Christmas family get together. I am not too impressed by my girth, nor is my impression of Rutger Hauer particularly good!

    Monday

    Very up and down at the moment. The next book (book#3) is formulating in my head, but I am keen not to fall in the 'lets make the muslims baddies' trap, yet that is what seems to be what people want. I have some great ideas sewn in the mists of history that I want to persue, but - well, no but's !!! That is what I shall do.

    I shall publish a few snippets on this web as I procede. If you look at the archive, there is already a floater for an early chapter that introduces some characters. They may well be a red herring though, just a diversion to pull you away from the intended plot.

    Up to Mother's at the weekend. Quite a tiring drive, but the Civic aquitted it self beautifully - more than can be said for my tired frame which complained.

    Into the office again today, albeit briefly. Passengered up to Brum for a meeting by the NEC. Horrible weather and horrible journey - glad I was not driving, but something obviously upset me - I was quite unwell when I got back. Bloods and Glucose where okay tho'.

    Another long session with the Optician on Saturday, more fine tuning on the contact lens front, still a cylinder value mismatch to my prescription. Back into town midweek to pick up yet another set of lenses. It looks as if I am getting there finally, as we are leaving it 4 weeks until the next appointment.

    Talking of appointments, the Doc arranaged an Opthalmic session for me the hospital (GRH) - they can't see me until the end of February. A week short of three months away - that is terrible when you consider how much I am struggling to actually focus on anything.

    And finally the appointment has also arrived for the diabetic nurse at GRH, that is early January, so that appears to be good news. At least it looks as if I will be able to go there with stable meds.

    Thursday

    A day off and then back in again. It is strange, and a little interesting, how my stamina has been wiped out. Before the diabetes came on I would be at my desk by around 0530, not leaving until around 1600. Quite a long day. I would then go home cook dinner and then perhaps watch some TV, do some book research, or even some authoring.
    Now I get to my desk at around 0700, and by 1200 I am shattered and the last thing I want to do is cook dinner and then perhaps watch some TV, do some book research, or even some authoring. All I want to do is collapse in a heap. I have no staying power.

    Tuesday

    Back into the office yesterday for the first time in 2 months. It was quite strange, but good to see everyone again. But Lordy Lordy, after 5 hours I was completely shattered. My arms felt bruised, very odd.
    Disquieting reading in the internet today about the new drug regime that my Doctor put me on. According to Washington Post there are side affects with Avandamet that are scary. The data sheet for Avandamet Avandamet also lists a strange side effect - Unexpected Injury. What the hell is that? I never knowingly injure myself, and I am sure that virtually all my injuries over the years have been unexpected.
    Despite the scares and the concerns I can report that since dropping 500mg metformin + gliclazide and going onto Avandamet (1000mg Metformin and 4mg of Rosiglitazone) my blood glucose levels are averaging higher at 5.9 rather than 5.3 and the SD is higher at 1.2. Mode value also increased from 5.9 to 6.2. The spread of readings has gone down from 6.4 to 4.1
    So I can expect fewer complications and a gradual settling. I have not had a Hypo since moving to the new regime, and my eyes do seem more settled and less prone to variation across the day.
    But having had reported reduced liver function (partially the reason for giving up alcohol)and sharp chest pains, reading the Washington post report is unsettling! I have added 5lb to my weight since going on to Avandamet, and that is in only two weeks. But I guess that the risks and side effects of the Avandamet far outweigh the risks of untreated diabetes.
    I shall live long!

    Friday

    Learned a new word today and it's a corker. I shall have to use it in my next book. Oh course, as I have an immature streak, I had great fun with it. The word is WENIS. When I shake my hand, my wenis wobbles. Fantastic! Go on, google it.

    My sister Angela had a great idea this week, what with my wobbly eyes and all, and sent me some talking books. I have struggled writing and I have almost given up on TV, so hopefully this will give me a real diversion from the introspection I have been forced to enjoy.

    Saw Doc to day, excellent news, no change in the meds, so back into the office on Monday. He has referred me to the Opthalmist at the Gloucester Royal Hospital (GRH), basically he is a little concerned at how my eyes are still fluctuating a load. For good measure he also referred me to the diabetic specialist nurse at GRH too. I am unhappy at having loaded on a stone in weight even though I have moved over to a slightly more healthy diet than the already heallthy diet that I was on.

    I have holes in my skin in each hand. Boy cat decided NOT to come in and was off being territorial. No way would we be able to sleep with any of the cats out, so it was upto me to go and get him. He did not want to be got, hence the holes in my hands. Great.

    Cold came on suddenly last night, but then I have been feeling the cold all week, so to actually get one should not be a surprise.

    Enjoy your dreams, I love mine.