Category Archives: Winter

Roll with it

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As the days get shorter, I face a race against time if I am to get the little dog down the woods for an off-lead run before darkness sets in. This evening though, despite an horrendous journey home (thanks to Salford Council fucking about, putting a bus lane where are there are no bus routes on a major road out of Manchester), I got home in time to grab a quick cup of coffee before grabbing his nibs and taking him for a nice run in the warm air of the early autumn evening. He repaid me by trying to have sex with a collie’s face. That wasn’t the worst of it though, he also took himself off into the undergrowth, where inaccessible to me, he found great pleasure in rolling in undefined animal excrement.

One of these days, I will leave him there, but knowing my luck, he’d find his way back to me.

Why are dogs so vile?

Anyway, I’ve taken myself to my bed and he’s curled up next to me, snoring.

Hibernation
I don’t know what it is with this time of year, but until I grow accustomed to the change in seasons, I always find myself coming to bed as soon as possible after all my evening activities have been accomplished. I use the word “accomplished” loosely. What I mean by this is, get home from work, walk dog, feed dog, feed myself, close curtains. It’s about all I can manage at the moment, with a little bit of housework thrown in. Once all these tasks are out of the way, there’s nothing more to do other than make myself comfortable and the most comfortable place in my house is my bed. I suppose I could sit in the living room for a while, it’s certainly nice enough there, but I can’t really be bothered with the television during the week, I’m not really in the mood for listening to music at the moment, my Kindle is by my bedside… my bed is more comfortable than the sofa…

So here I am, the bedroom window is open and I am being serenaded by the rain and the snoring, stinking dog.

Come winter, I might make this my default living space. Do like they do in stately homes and close down the rest of the house to conserve energy. I could set up a little kitchen in my back bedroom: coffee making facilities and a two ring electric hob. Maybe I could even bring my barbecue up here. Try to explain that one to the insurance company after I’ve destroyed the west wing of Rocky Towers in a greasy inferno.

This will be taking “loft living” to a whole new level. I could refurbish my outside toilet and let out the whole of the ground floor of my house, leaving me to enjoy the luxury of upstairs. I’ve already started drafting plans for a dumb waiter to be installed outside my bedroom window so that accept takeaway deliveries and offer rides to Rocky when he gets bored.

Winter: sorted.

I wonder what the John Lewis Christmas advert will be this year. No doubt, the first commercial break of the X Factor live shows will be given over in its entirety to showing it. I’m betting, and I might be going a little off-piste here, that it features something cute that portrays a non-faith-based true message of Christmas, accompanied by a pared-down folky version of a classic rock song (I’m going for Gary Glitter’s Rock and roll Christmas.) Call me mad, I know it’s never been done before, and it’d be a big risk for them, but it could be a winner! Never knowingly going to beat the Liquor-saving Kwik Save Christmas adverts.

Gosh, one thing about hibernating is that you’re actually supposed to sleep for a bit longer, something that I’ve been failing to do, even though I’ve been taking myself to my bed while my evening meal is still in my oesophagus. It’s now 9.30pm and I’m sure that if I got to sleep in the next hour or so, I might actually feel refreshed when the alarm wakes me at 6.25 tomorrow morning. Alas, the best way of enjoying the comfort of Apartment 1a, Rocky Towers, is to remain awake and marvel at the neutral decor, become one with the memory foam, settle into feather and down.

Bon nuit, lecteurs.

Mood

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I’m in a terrible mood today.  It started with a bad dream, continued with a hideous journey into work followed by eight hours of exasperation at faulty software systems, ending in another vile journey home.  Somebody suggested that I cycle to work.  Sure! I’ll go the whole hog, get a little basket for the front of my bike so I can stop off at the boulangerie for fresh bread and pastries and roll up to work as fresh as a daisy after a nine mile ride on some of the most treacherous roads in the city.

We’re supposed to be having an Indian summer, but I missed all two hours of it because I was held prisoner in a windowless office where the only weather I’m ever aware of is rain as it batters down on the timpanic roof that covers the building’s atrium. Other than that, I am cocooned in a soulless, airless hell where, if I sit still for long enough, the lights dim and I get plunged into darkness.

Within a day of returning to work my back has started aching again, my permafrown has returned.

The dream I had last night has been with me all day too; thoughts of past betrayals coming back to haunt me out of the blue.

Frustrations with bad traffic, work technology and my own personal failures have put me into a bad humour and I’m feeling snarly and miserable.  

But this time of year scares me as I anticipate the darkness and the cold, never knowing quite how badly I’ll react to it all.  There’s a strong possibility that my recent depression has had a physiological cause which has now been rectified and I will be fine this winter, but I only have the past few years to go on and so I am naturally apprehensive as the days shorten noticeably.

I should embrace the winter months, starting with Bonfire Night.  Standing in front of a raging bonfire, holding a sausage while fireworks explode above me.  Looking up as the smoke clears to reveal a starry sky on a crisp November night.  Walks in the woods, kicking through the fallen leaves as the sun starts to set at 3.30pm.  Frost that persists all day on hard surfaces.  Big jumpers and scarves, warming casseroles and the autumn TV schedule.  Yes!  I can see how that would be lovely.

But what’s the reality?  The temperature hovering around 10ºC, high winds and torrential rain.  That’s what we get.  And that ruins everything. And the TV schedule isn’t that good when X Factor yields the same ridiculous stories each year while one contestant becomes a tabloid hate figure.

Work becomes more stressful and the journey gets worse as December approaches.  And as December approaches, you resign yourself to spending another festive period on your own, putting a brave face on things, putting on parties for the family, but they’re really for yourself.  

And at the back of your mind, you tell yourself, just see it through to March; things start to feel better in March.

Waiting for Aslan

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I know it shouldn’t be surprising that it’s still wintery in February, but I was kind of hoping that the new month would bring some sign that spring was coming. Certainly, it’s getting lighter earlier in the mornings and taking longer before darkness descends in the evening.  In addition, the green shoots of the bulbs I planted in the autumn are showing through; the shrubs that I thought had died over winter are also sprouting new buds of leaves.  Where there is broken bark, there is hope.

And then the snow came again.  The east and south of England were worst hit, but here in Rochdale, we got a nice covering… along with gale force winds and freezing temperatures that made the -1°C temperature feel more like -5°C.

Here are some photos:

February snowfall

February snowfall 2

Rocky really loves the snow.  I really love the way the snow sticks to him and then leaves little puddles of water all over the house as it melts.

Rocky snowdog

Rocky snowball toes

But as usual, it seems to have been winter forever, and there’s still at least two months of it to go.  And summer never, ever, follows.  It’s like living in Narnia under the spell of the White Witch.  Always winter and never Christmas.  And even though we do have Christmas, that was crap this time.

At least the sun is shining.  We certainly won’t see that between June and September, so I should be thankful for it now, even with the freezing temperatures.

Blind in one eye

Anyway, things aren’t that bad and the prospect of spring and sunshine has prompted me to start wearing my contact lenses again.  Why, when I can’t see out of my right eye with them, I don’t know, but being able to see is a small price to pay to be able to wear sunglasses.  Sunglasses are the most fantastic addition to any outfit (apart from a beige jumper of course).  Unfortunately, I always look a total twat when I’m wearing them, but I look a twat whether I’m wearing sunglasses or not.  The best thing about them is the way they hide the dark circles and bags under my eyes…. oh and the way they protect my eyesight from harmful UV rays of course.

Working from home

I’ve been working from home these past couple of days. Aware that the weather might turn and delay my journey home from work and being worried about getting home for the dog, I thought it sensible to stay here and be very productive indeed.  It’s OK working from home, coffee on tap, warmth (compared to my office at work), saving on petrol… Rocky.

Rocky is a lovely little beast, but he won’t leave me alone while I’m trying to work.  Always insisting on sitting on me, jealous that my fingers are tapping the keyboard and not tickling his ears, he has a habit of nudging my hand away from the keys.  It’s quite irritating, but kind of lovely.

Here he is on my knee:

Rocky suspects

Awwww.

Better get back to work and send some very stern e-mails to people who don’t know what they’re talking about.

Electric blanket

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We’ve been experiencing a relatively cold winter here in the UK. I don’t like it. The canal is almost completely frozen over.

Icy canal

This proved Rocky’s saviour yesterday as I almost threw him in it when he was being a total shit on his walk. I liked the noise the sticks made when I threw them onto the ice. I wonder what noise the dog would’ve made.

On days like today, the crisp, blue skies are beautiful, but the sun rarely gets high enough in the sky for the shadows to disappear and for the ice on the pavements to melt.

Take today for example; we had snow flurries overnight that froze to an icy sheen on the pavements by dawn. Despite wearing sensible Timberland boots with a chunky sole, I spent the day walking like a penguin with Parkinson’s disease. I have no idea why I have zero confidence when walking on slippery surfaces, but I can remember being this way for as long as I could walk – gripping onto fences, walls, my mum as I slipped and slid to school. I hate the ice. I hate things that involve me feeling unsteady on my feet such as ice skating and roller skating, and I have absolutely no desire to even attempt skiing.

Why is it then, that while I can’t walk on anything remotely slippery even in the most suitable attire, some people can stride along with full confidence on a surface resembling an ice rink while wearing stiletto boots? I couldn’t believe some of the shoes women were wearing today. Bitches. Perhaps the heel actually acts like a crampon and provides the best possible grip in such conditions. Maybe I should give them a go. I’d probably end up spinning around, pinned to the ground by one heel with the rest of me flying around in a circle of screams, torn ligaments and hair.

With it this cold, my peripheries are always icy and, by bedtime my toes are unbearably cold. I got a duck feather and down duvet for Christmas, it is lovely, but it doesn’t warm my toes particularly well. Of course, if I had a nice warm body next to me, and if the owner of that body loved me enough, they’d let me warm my toes on them. Unfortunately, I am without woman, good or otherwise, so I need to explore alternative avenues to keep me warm. One option would be to have Rocky in bed with me, but he prefers to sleep at the top of the bed next to me and I doubt he’d stay near enough to my feet under the duvet for him to be of any use. The next best option would be to invest in an electric blanket. I had the luxury of one of these when I stayed with friends in Norfolk and it was delicious! The one I had use of had a timer function so it stayed on for 75 minutes – just enough time to settle down, do a bit of reading and drop off.

Imagine the other functions that could be integrated into an electric blanket: iPod dock; massage function; alarm clock…. cattle prod! Your alarm would go off, gently at first, perhaps playing a gentle tune or waking you with a soothing massage. But if you snoozed off: DZZZZZZTZZZIPPP!!!!

I’m going to write to JML to see if they want to develop my idea along with all the other wonderful things they sell, things that look so fucking brilliant on their TV ads, but turn out to be disappointing bits of utterly useless junk when you come to have them. A bit like women, but with a battery or a plug.