Erm Wet Weather Again

Time can seem longer on a wet weather day. The rain hitting the window means its an easterly wind and going to be cold and wet. As I look to confirm it out the window I can see the weather vane on the church tower is stuck firmly in my predicted direction and I mentally shiver. On such days I just pull the duvet over my head and listen to radio four for a while longer. Only women's hour can get me out of my snug, smugness and downstairs to put the kettle on. Oh and of course the dog digging me out for biological need usually has the same effect as women's hour come to think of it.

Once downstairs having forgotten my socks I do the cold floor dance while waiting for the kettle to boil, toast to pop and Bob to return from his early morning garden perimeter check. I nod to him and he to me to confirm all is well as I spread the golden shreds on the brown (diet!) toast. I check the mail, check the fire is still in and if not return to eat toast and read mail in my office.

Today is one such day and I was supposed to be pulling out the seats in the car, but the weather put pay to that and it was just a case of choosing the right time to take the dog for a walk. Too soon and he and I would collide with a brisk shower and get drenched. Too late and there are so many people out he cant get off the lead and have a gallop. Yesterday was a case in point. I got out the car as Bob the dog ran off. Five seconds later he was pounding back barking at me to open the door with a huge German Shepherd on his tail. We both just made it back into the car before Heidi Hitler the Hun Hound nearly had the pair of us.

On days such as this I easily turn to musing the human and my own woeful condition and I have to confess i am in the doldrums at the moment. Everything seems to be on hold, or put another way; its a typical January. I find myself deep in thought without actually wishing to be so. Musing such as:
Do I leave my book, ending with my leaving school and avoid the far more complicated and contentious next part of my life, or full steam ahead and call some people I know the Bastards they are? Revenge as they say is a dish best served cold... or should it read "not at all". I was never a vengeful man.
Then closer to my heart:
Do I want to be alone the rest of my life, life in  a relationship has not always been a great bucket of giggles for me and the old heart has been subjected to perhaps one too many kickings to wish to risk further abuse. After three failed long term relationships, I have begun to think that perhaps love is not for me! Is another relationship something to consider, or should one quit while one is ahead?
So, what of the future? A few more medical procedures to go on this beat up old body of mine and what if they find something horrible? What then, Or. What if it works out fine and dandy and a return to something like good health is on the cards? Wouldnt that be fun!

Cross all those bridges in due course naturally, but its a typical January rainy day thought pattern. Is it the shortness of the daylight, the weather, the bloody bills and brown envelopes flopping through the door? Mental conditioning? I mean do they feel like this in Australia? Its summer down there!

Then there is the irrational thoughts that come unbidden. I recently had an endoscopy and biopsy. While the chap (amazingly we were never introduced) was up my backside he mumbled to the Nurse that I was showing signs of wear in my bowels. I only half registered this at the time, but now find myself worrying about just what "Signs of wear" implies and to what degree. Will this become more pronounced and should I think about the consequences of the demise of my colon and ultimately of course my bottom hanging in tatters? I now find as a consequence of this disquieting information that I think the most ludicrous things. Such as congratulating my bottom when it produces a good health specimen or crisp sounding trump. "All is well", is this rational? 

Ahh well, Such is life and the sun is peeping through. Best see if we can duck the Hun Hound of Hell and get our legs stretched. Do rational people consider the strength and tone of their passing wind? Gosh.. January.

Addendum to last:
As Bob and I walked in companionship across the wolds the sun broke through and a poem came to me that summed up the day perfectly:

Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.

Whose heards with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

Blest! who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix'd; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lye

And so back to my domicile to beverage of fresh brewed coffee with a dash of nutmeg. Dog lies happy steaming by the fire and all is well in this part of Gods sweet earth. Night night dear reader.