Theodore Rufus Doggington the 1st. My what a big dog he is…

Theo and I wandering the local area with camera in hand

So ten months in and what sort of dog is he now? Curiously, he hasn’t really changed much. He is sweet, friendly and wants to be everyone’s BFF. Only main difference is that he can now mostly pull my shoulder out of its socket if he get the sniff of the sort of thing that makes dogs lunge wildly. You know, squirrels, a random leaf, a small child with an ice cream. That sort of stuff.

We continue to wander around Halifax as the mood takes us, and he also had a trip to Scarborough recently to have his first swim in the sea, and he bloody loved it. He followed it up with fish and chips and some dog ice cream, so as days go I think it was perhaps one of his best. I think it just pipped the day he got hold of 3 bags of dog treats and scoffed down the lot.

He’s made plenty of friends, though remains a little rough when he plays with them so has some learning to do on that front. He isn’t bitey, it’s not anything like that, he is just an exuberant ball of uncoordinated enthusiasm which can be rather off putting.

Anyway, here’s a few pictures of us wandering about aimlessly.

Belugas and dreamlifters

I loved it when I started, hated it by the time I was finished but at least the idea is kind of out of my head now and I can fix it another day.

Been a while, so let’s have a look at M’s prompts. I used to do a lot of these and want to do more this year. This one is from January, but I liked the title, and have been dabbling for many months meaning to get to it. If you’re reading it now I guess I finished it. Kind of. TBH I just wanted it out of my drafts. I think the idea is an interesting one, just lost momentum along the way. Anyway, it’s a draft but as far as I am going with it – it is done. Woohoo.


The Expatria drifted slowly through the inky black of space, Jupiter’s shadow cast across her massive bulk as she rounded the pale moon of Europa and engaged her sub light drives. At over five million tonnes she was the largest of the Heavy Weight Class ships to leave the Martian shipyards, and she was bigger even than the Federal battle cruisers that patrolled the region.

Even in the dark of space she seemed to spark and flicker as light struck the long curves or her upper decks, her gigantic storage tanks buried deep within the bulge at her centre and lower sections waiting to be filled. The distinctive yellow and black Martian livery marked her unmistakably as a Dreamlifter, and as she slowed the small fleet of support vessels about her sprung into life, preparing her for action.

The bridge sat high on the front of the ship, three sides open to the dark of space, and standing on the deck looking out across the surface of the moon, Captain Staines issued his orders calmly.

“Bring her around ten degrees to moon side, nice and easy, ensign. And keep up 10 miles above surface.”

“Yes sir,” came the response from somewhere behind him, and he felt the ship turn slowly, almost imperceptibly. But with 25 years on these birds he could feel her every movement in his bones.

“Engineering, what’s our status?” Staines asked.

Behind him, there were thirty crew sat at long arrays of display banks, arranged in three rows that ran the width of the bridge. Pale green light flickered across their faces as the ship continued to move slowly then came to a halt, hanging above the moon surface.

An angular featured, thick set engineer, his yellow EngCore colours displayed in thick flashes on the shoulders of his dark blue uniform looked up from his display.

“Captain, readouts confirm that all systems are green-for-go, and we are now within harness range of the spike,” he said. His voice boomed across the bridge like approaching thunder and a passing service robot scuttled for cover.

The feint hum of the sub light engines filled the air as they held the Expatria in place against the massive gravitational pull of Jupiter in the distance, the slow hypnotic swirl of the planet’s surface distracting him while the crew waited on his orders. She was a thing of true beauty, and something to be feared if you were foolish enough to stray too close to her.

“Engineering, initiate harness protocols and prepare for harvest.” Staines said, turning back towards the crew. “Time to go to work.”


Barnabas threw a boot across the cabin at Lafayette as she stirred in her bunk.

“Hey, come on!” he shouted as she rolled over, swearing into her pillow. “We’re green, and we need to get our arses in gear.”

Lafayette opened her eyes slowly, and instinctively reached for the bottle next to her bed, noted it was empty and let it fall to the floor as she sat up, tossing the boot back across the room.

“Eat my balls,” she said swinging her legs out of bed and into her her boots.

“Nice,” said Barnabus, “you talk to your mother with that mouth?”

“Thoughts of what I do with my mouth should never even enter your head,” she said, rubbing her eyes and running her fingers through her long dark hair, pulling it into a tight pony tail. “We got a confirmed spike?” She asked.

“Big one apparently,” Barnabus answered as Lafayette got to her feet. She straightened the red overall she had fallen asleep in the night before and pulled the black belt tight around her narrow waist.

“What we waiting for then?” She said, brushing past Barnabus and stooping down to pass through the low cabin doorway.

Barnabus smiled and set off after her. She was one hell of a drinker, but she was an even better harpoon operator, one of the best, and talk was that there was a big one out there.

The clank of boots on steel echoed as they passed the rough the long, dimly lit corridor that ran from the crew quarters low on the stern of the Expatria. On each side service routes branched off and snaked throughout the bowels of the ship, and it was down one of these that Barnabus and Lafayette headed.

“So exactly how big are we talking?” Asked Lafayette without looking back at Barnabus who trailed behind.

“A Neptune event big, apparently,” replied Barnabus, “maybe even bigger. It has be something special to bring us this close to the planet, I reckon.”

Lafayette smiled to herself. Big haul meant big pay, and the Guild paid the best rates in the sector. They held a tight grip on the shipping lanes that crisscrossed the galaxy, and they couldn’t do this without controlling the dark matter that fuelled the faster then light engines that made crossing such huge distances possible.

“And who else is on duty, have they said?” She asked.

Barnabus hurried to catch her up. She had a competitive streak for sure, in fact it was more than just a streak, it was a compulsion to be the best and when you were trying to harness pure dark matter it helped to be motivated.

“It’s you, Jones and Metlichok,” Barnabus answered. “And me and Zulu on radar.”

Lafayette bristled as she slowed and looked back at Barnabus, who was now a little breathless as he struggled to keep up with her.

“Christ, are you fucking kidding me!” Lafayette snapped. “Those jokers nearly got me toasted at Caloris Basin. Jones is a bag of nerves and Metlichock doesn’t give a shit about anything the money. It makes him reckless.” She scrolled through the display on her watch, checking the ship comms for details of who was on duty on the bridge. “I need to see Staines. Is he on deck?”

“And how do you think that will go down exactly?” Barnabus asked. “This thing is big, big time big, and like them or not they get the job done. There are millions of cubes of DM, just waiting to be ‘pooned and you can’t play nicely with the other children. Not a good look on you, you know.”

Lafayette knew Barnabus was right, they wouldn’t change the crew, and this made her angrier still.

“Well they can still eat my balls,” she snapped.

Barnabus grinned. “You seem rather obsessed with having your non existent balls eaten you know.”

“They’re metaphorical, thank you very much. Metaphorical balls. Big hairy ones.”

“Even so, you know, you really do seem very keen to…”

“Okay, enough, enough,” snapped Lafayette, pushing through a set of heavy double doors, “let’s just go to work shall we.”

Barnabus smiled as he followed her through the doors into the wide, low room ahead. “Okay, if you insist.”


“Are we ready to engage?” Captain Staines asked as the Expatria hung above the surface of the moon, her huge shadow cast across the surface. He looked unusually nervous, and strode back and forth across the bridge, his hands his hands dug deep into his jacket pockets.

“All service online and ready to proceed Captain,” came a voice from behind him. “Estimated haul…”

There was a pause and the voice trailed away, a tone of disbelief left hanging in the air.

“Yes?” Prompted Staines

“Sir, it’s of the charts. Readings spiking all over the place.”

Staines turned slowly and faced the room. The dim light of the computer banks lit the pale faces of the crew that sat behind them.

“Is there a problem Ensign?” The captain asked, his voice prickling with frustration. He needed this haul, it was critical to the success of their mission and the Shipping Guild were on the comms hourly asking for updates.

“No sir,” the Ensign replied, “Ive just never seen anything like this.”

Staines fixed him with a stare and waited.

“Sorry sir, no problems reported, we are ready to engage.”

“Then do it.”

The Ensign punched in release codes and a red light lit up the room. A ship wide alert barked out. ‘Extraction protocols live. All hands to stations.’

“Thank you Ensign,” said the Captain. “Comms, send a message to the Guild and inform them harpooning has commenced.”

A wiry haired operator responded sharply. “Yes sir,” he said, looking up, and then returned to his screen, fingers flashing across the flat panel in front of him.

As he punched the ‘transmit’ button all hell broke loose.

In an instant, the Expatria was rocked sideways, and Captain Staines was thrown across the deck and send crashing to the floor against an instrument array that sat raised to the side of the bridge. A screaming whine filled the air as the sub light drives fought to right the ship and lights flashed and flickered as the crew were tossed from their positions and strewn across the brdge.

Horror flashed across Staines’ face as he fought to gain his footing, leaning against the console against which he’d been thrown.

“What the hell was that!” He shouted as a second shudder ran through the ship. A mix of alarms and shouting rent the air as the crew scrambled to regain their positions.

“Massive overload!” Shouted an ashen faced engineer. “Tanks at 98%. Auxillary hold engaged. Integrity steady but outlet manifolds under sever stress Captain.”

Staines scrambled over to his chair on the opposite end of the deck and threw himself into it, pulling the harness straps tight over his shoulders.

“Get me Lafayette on comms now! He barked. “And put radar on heads up. I need information.”

A holoscreen appeared in mid air about a metre in front of where Stanines sat. It flickered for a moment and then the flustered face of Barnabus appeared on it, no longer sporting it’s usual broad smile.

“What the fuck is going on down there?” Stains demanded.

A control panel behind Barnabus sparked and cracked, lights flickering and the hiss of escaping steam mixed with the shouts and cries in the background.

“It’s a Beluga sir,” shouted Barnabus over the din, “a huge one sir, like nothing I’ve seen before, and it’s pissed.”

Captain Staines shook his head. As critical as the ‘pooners were, their superstitions, folklore and spiritual view of dark matter defied all sense or logic, and he knew better than to diminish the very thing that seemed to allow them to harness it.

“Just tell me what you’re seeing, Barnabus,” Staines said calmly.

Barnabus flinched as a heat duct came crashing down and collapsed behind him.

“This thing is after us Sir, from the minute I locked on and issued coordinates to Lafayette it was like it knew we were here and it came straight for us. We didn’t need to try and hit it – it came to us.”

Staines took a deep breath. “Have you unlocked targeting?” He asked. “Have we disengaged.”

“Yes Sir,” Barnabus shouted in terror, his eyes were wide and Staines could see him shaking. “But it’s still after us Sir. It’s a Beluga Sir, and it’s still coming down the system, I can see it, I can feel it!”

There was a loud scream from somewhere behind Barnabus and the screen fizzed and went black. The Expatria rocked and a cacophony of alarms sounded. Staines unstrapped himself from the chair and stumbled towards a door that lead from the bridge.

“Keep her steady!” He shouted and he pushed through the doors. “And keep all channels open on me. I’m going below deck.”

________________

Lafayette righted herself from where she lay on the floor, her head was spinning and there was the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. A searing pain shot up her right leg as she got to her feet and looking down she could see the blood seeping through her coveralls.

“Barnabus! Barnabus!” She shouted. Everywhere was thick with steam and smoke, and the sparking radar consoles threw red and orange shadows across the room. Small fires crackled and hissed and there was a pungent smell of melted rubber in the air.

Barnabus didn’t respond. She called out for Jones and Metlichok, but again, no answer. She tapped the comms piece in her ear, but there was only a feint crackle of static.

“Christ, where are they,” she said leaning against the radar console. It was somehow still functioning, and the usually green screen was awash with the small white streaks that indicated dark matter. Usually there would be a couple at most, but now…well now, there was very little else.

All she could remember was being told it was a big one, and Barnabus looking terrified and then….Nothing. Just this. This complete and total shit show. Lafayette attempted to move in the general direction of the thick double doors that guarded the harpoon bays, but pain flooded through her and she stumbled forward, collapsing once more onto the floor. Her head was spinning and there was a darkness in the periphery of her vision. Realising she was losing consciousness she attempted to drag herself to the door, a thick streak of blood trailing behind her.

Reaching out a hand through the smoke, she grabbed the leg of what she guessed to be one of the heavy tables that stood either side of the entrance doors. Her fingers were bloodied and her breathing was heavy.

“Over here,” came a voice. A familiar voice. It was calm and kind.

“Barnabus!” Lafayette shouted. “Barnabus, where are you. I’m hurt, I can’t…”

“This way, just a little further,” it said, “keep coming towards my voice.”

“Where are you?” Lafayette said, panicked. She was dizzy from the pain and everything now seemed so very dark.

“Just a little more,” said the voice again. “It will all be over soon.” She could hear it, it sounded like Barnabus, but there was something different, she wasn’t so much hearing it as feeling it deep inside her, resonating.

Lafayette pulled herself forward and dragged herself upright using the leg of the table, and sat up against it, breathing heavily. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, though in the smoke it was hard to be certain. She knew it hurt like hell though, and she knew she had lost a lot of blood by the thick red trail she had left across the floor.

“Are you ready?” The voice asked.

“Barnabus…”

“It’s time. It’s over,” the voice continued, “it’s time to join us.”

Before her, the smoke cleared, and Lafayette felt cold creep over her skin. Small pinpricks of light swirled before her, soon joined by more, dancing and flitting back and forth. Her breath misted as she breathed heavily, and slowly the lights took a familiar form. It was Barnabus, formed by the shimmering lights. His eyes were dark, and as he reached out a hand she felt the cold seep deep into her bones.

Lafayette struggled, but she was powerless to move, and as the sparkling hand touched her shoulder she felt her lungs fill with suffocating cold, like she was drowning. She looked down and watched with silent horror as her legs began to turn to dazzling specks of light.

“Come home now, Lafayette,” said the shape before her, thin silvery lips smiling at her. “It’s over now.”

As Captain Staines crashed through the doors, Lafayette screamed, a desperate silent scream, and as she raised a hand before her face he watched as she dissolved into starlight before him, and then, in a moment, she was gone. In a final crescendo of existence, her light swirled high up into the room, hanging from the ceiling and then, it tumbled slowly downwards, settling on the bloodied floor around him like fine snow on a still winter morning.

For a while he just stood there, motionless, heart racing. The room was cold and dark, it was silent, and it was empty. As he stared to where Lafayette had sat only seconds before, the silence was broken by the sudden clicking of fans kicking into life as the ventilation system came online, and the room quickly cleared of smoke as it was sucked from the room.

A small ping sounded behind him and he turned to where one of the radar bays still glowed green. White lights moved across it, darting and swirling back and forth and as he watched they formed a familiar pattern. It was Lafayette, unmistakable.

He reached to touch the screen and the image flickered for a moment, a thin smile across her face. He knew she could see him, just as he could see her, and then again , for one final time, she was gone.

________________

High above the Moon of Europa the Calista circled the wreckage of the Expatria as she drifted slowly in her lifeless orbit, a mile long gash in her side a reminder of the explosion in her tanks that had ended the lives of so many.

From his vantage point on the deck Captain Staines looked down on the graveyard of a ship he had once commanded. Even now, years later, the nightmare of those final moments still haunted him. His nights were filled with the silent screams of the thousands that had perished in the cold of space as he watched, helpless, from the small round window of the lifeboat.

“Are we ready to engage, Ensign?” He asked, his voice wavering.

“Yes Sir, all systems green-to-go.”

“Radar, please confirm status,” he prompted as he turned in his chair to his holo screen.

“Yes sir,” came an enthusiastic reply. The operator was young, barely out his teens, and Staines could feel the excitement in his voice.

“Engage,” ordered Staines. His stomach lurched.

Red lights flashed across the bridge and the hum of the harpoon’s cycling up could be felt throughout the ship. Staines switched his screen to monitor the radar and watched as the small pinpricks of light on the screen blinked out, one by one, and the monstrous containment tanks began to fill slowly.

“All systems normal,” sounded a confirmation from the arrayed banks behind him. “Tanks at 15% and rising. Pressure levels normal.”

Staines breathed heavily, his focus on the screens as the tanks continued to fill.

As the gauges continued to creep slowly upwards across the screen there was a brief flicker on the radar, and then another.

“Radar, report,” he ordered.

“All systems normal Sir,” came the response.

“Engineering, report,” Staines said, sitting upright in his chair and pulling his shoulder straps tight.

“All systems normal sir, containment at 100 percent. No anomalies present.”

Staines continued to watch the screen. It flickered again.

“Radar, report!” He demanded.

“Sir, all systems normal. She’s a big one, but nothing we haven’t seen before Sir.”

“Engin….” Staines’ voice trailed away as the screen flashed from green to an incandescent white. Brilliant pinpricks danced and swirled before his eyes. At first they were random, a confusion of brilliance, and then slowly they began to take shape.

Staines tried to speak but his voice was caught n his throat. He felt unable to move as before his eyes, there on the screen was a face he had seen is his dreams every night. It smiled at him, like a long lost friend, eyes full of wonder and compassion, and then, as the gauges on the side of the screen continued to rise a pained expression crept across her face. The pain turned to a contorted grimace and she mouthed silent exhortations, the remnants of long lost fingers clawing at the edges of the screen.

“Tanks at 50% Sir, anomaly 99% harnessed,” came a confirmation from a dark haired Ensign sat off to his right. “Initiating shut down protocols.”

Her eyes now wild, Lafayette stared out at him, her empty mouth wide in a pained grimace. Tears spilled from her eyes and ran down her starlit cheeks as the hum of the harpoon’s fell silent and slowly, pinprick by silvery pinprick, her image faded from the screen and all that remained was the pale green glow of the radar.

Lafayette, she had come home at last.

My wellbeing journey – The Summer Tree Edition

May the fourth be with you

Time for another tree. It’s summer, and it was the summer solstice yesterday – so let’s have something a little summery and celebratory of all things bright and beautiful shall we! Fiesta time baby!

If you’re curious, these are the other trees:

Valentines Tree

Easter Tree

Star Wars Tree

Another one from the drafts

Not a clue what this was about or when or why. Least it’s out of my drafts now. Apparently wrote it in Feb 2020. Dont remember it…seems a bit emo to me.

In solitude, she lays in darkness,

reaching out feels soft warm touch

And miles melt into skin on skin

That tender bliss, sweet kiss, remiss

And Would he dare, quite foolishly,

That single moment to forget

Where sparks from embers sprung to life

And set aflame with promises

Her heart, her mind, her everything

Which craves and dreams and wanting makes

him kneel and on love hungry feeds

‘Till satisfied, she falls and falls

Into his arms, into his heart

LOVE

Another from the drafts that I cant really remember writing…I should refine it and make it rhyme properly…but I cannot be arsed.

I would kiss your lips a thousand times

But god, just imagine the chafing

and they’d get really scabby

and you’d get quite crabby

And you’d need lip creams and balm and look awful

___

So I’ll shout your name from the roof tops 

But not late, we have neighbours you know

Though I could likely fall

So perhaps I’ll just call

Out your name from the top bedroom window

___

Hey I could climb the worlds highest mountain

Swim deep oceans to declare our passion

But heights scare me to bits

And cold water is shit

Is there anything else that’s in fashion?

___

Ooh a poem would show my devotion

And some flowers and choccies and wine

But you’re quite fat already

And drink lots, take it steady

And your reading age is not much more than nine

___

Oh how I love thee, let me count the ways

Let me woo, swoon and bask in your beauty

(once you’ve put on your make up)

Then perhaps we can make up

Cos I quite like your tits and round booty

 

 

Inevitable

Found this in my drafts. Don’t have a clue what the devil it’s about. Random words mostly I think…

Do your think of him those days

Where dark thoughts senses suffocate

That joy I watched drain from your face

As life and lies cruel whispers told

Your many secrets slow, unfold

Fools promises and could have been’s

you would not keep them from your door

Instead with smile forced on your face

Arms wide you beckoned them inside

Embraced as they to you heart lied

Promises, so sickly sweet

Coarse noose of lies, soft velvet hopes

’till dangling feet dance all alone

Blinded, stumbling, on and on

And hope, and faith, bright eyes now gone

Nasty, Nasty Limerick time. Been a while.

To those who followed me because I wrote about dieting. This is probably closer to the real me. Sorry 🙂

Sex mad divorcee, now, online dating

Swipes and clicks left her moist, salivating

A transvestite off Grinder

Sweating, grunting, behind her

Tinder twins in each hand, masturbating

My wellbeing journey – The Star Wars Tree Edition

May the fourth be with you

You can read about the start of the tree journey here. If you cannot be bothered then long story short, we have left a Christmas tree up and will decorate it seasonally all year long because why the hell not. 🙂

Might be odd to some but hey, makes me happy!

To celebrate Star Wars Day on May the Fourth (- be with you …And also with you) I picked up some red and blue tinsel and proceeded to 3D print X wing fighters, tie fighters, a D wing fighter, a Millennium Falcon, a Baby yoda snowflake or two, a couple of death stars and the sprayed them gold. I then topped it all off with a Kylo-Ren light sabre teddy.

If you’re curious, these are the other trees:

Valentines Tree

Easter Tree

My wellbeing journey – April Results

It’s all gone a little bit yeasty.

April was going to be so much better than March. It really was. Then I broke my ankle, was rendered mostly immobile for weeks, and proceeded to eat all of the bread. I am not exaggerating, I didn’t just have a bit. I had it all.

Did you go to make some hot, buttered toast one morning, only to find the last slices mysteriously gone? Yes? I was probably sat outside your kitchen shovelling it into my face. Shortage of baps, bloomers and brioche at your local store. Yup, guilty as charged.

Doughnut, bagels, pretty much anything proven and baked. I couldn’t but help to put it inside myself.

I even found myself looking lustfully at other men’s baguette’s with my mouth watering thinking that if I waited until he wasn’t looking and just took it in my hand and nibbled on the end that might be enough to satisfy my cravings. But who am I kidding, Im a greedy, greedy boy and wanted the whole thing.

Oh what a sorry old state it is when you cannot rest until you have a mouthful of Italian 6 inch. Sub. 6 inch sub.

So with an average of less than 4000 steps a day and my teeth full of seeded batch loaf I look back at April as a wasted opportunity; then turn to May with renewed hope(and more than likely some sort of acquired gluten allergy). If that’s even a thing.

Let’s see how this month goes shall we…

The Pegasus Fiasco – Reblog

Mr C has published his poetry. You should go buy it. You’ll enjoy it.

So, I finally got around to releasing a book of poetry. I mean, I got it sorted out back in February but I’m not exactly loud about these kind of things. It’s called “The Pegasus Fiasco” You can click on the picture of the book to get to the purchase link or just click HERE […]

The Pegasus Fiasco

Limerick. Enjoy.

One about how to work out your manhood volume.

A perverse math’matician of note

to work out his cock volume, he wrote

“Times the length by the girth”

He reported with mirth

And then published with pics and did gloat.


Okay so I know that isn’t the calculation for working out the volume of one’s manhood. But no way am I googling that on the laptop the kids use from time to time. What sort of monster do you think I am.

Anyway, everyone knows you multiply the smallest radius of oval (minor axis) by its largest radius (major axis). Just not easy to get that into a limerick.

Though I did once read that it should be calculated using socks as a measure of volume. Ankle, sports, knee high. You get the general idea. Actually I once knew a chap who was an eye watering European size 12 Knee high. But that’s another limerick completely.

Happy Thursday !

My Second Book…

Bugger, I seem to have written a second book

Quick recap for you… I have written before about why I started my blog.  For those who missed it one of the main reasons was due to a friend who’s wife (now ex), an aspiring writer and a vile human being, insisting that anyone that self publishes does so as an act of vanity which is probably why she had never been published and for the most part refused to work.  I proceeded to take up writing and publish a book of limericks – which I dedicated to her – just to spite her. Anyway, I have now pretty much finished a second one.  This one is much less filthy, has no mention of boobs or prostitutes or weird penis’ and is actually a children’s story book.  Still got some general fiddling and editing to do and need to get it all put on Amazon but hey-ho, there you go.  I won’t be dedicating this one to here either.  She’s had her turn. Oh and if youre looking for an amazing artist look up Naya Kirichenko, who did the art, damn she’s good and such fun to work with.
More to follow on this! My fist book can be found at the links below Paperback in the UK is here https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1916089011 And in the US here https://www.amazon.com/dp/1916089011 UK E-Book is here https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07QF58TYM The US E-Book is here https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07QF58TYM

My blog’s a big old mess right now

What to do, what to do?

nearly 4 years, and almost 2000 posts ago, I started this blog. I have written books, short stories, limericks, haiku and poems. There were photos and tanka, posts on comic artwork, collectables and 3D modelling – and more recently more and more on dogs, diet and lifestyle.

I really have no idea what my blog is about anymore. I certainly post less than I used to, and there are many excuses I console myself with, but am currently trying to decide just what to do with this thing and how to do it. I continue to write outside of my blog (with my second book due as soon as I can get the editing done) but I still love opening up WordPress and seeing what ends up on the page…

Anyone else have this conundrum and what have you done about it?

My wellbeing journey – a change of plan.

A wanking related injury

You know that plan I had to do 12000-15000 steps a day? The one where Theo and I wander around Hipperholme enjoying the spring sunshine? Where we feel the wonderful benefits of increased mobility and a raised pulse? Well I am revising that target to 50. No, not 50000, 50.

Before I explain more you need To know that In Sheffield, where Mrs Afterwards is from, they Occasiondlly use the term ‘wanked’ instead of ‘sprained’. So yesterday when I entered youngest to get me a bag of peas she suspected that I had wanked my ankle.

Now at this juncture let me caution against googling the phrase ‘wanked ankle’ as it will invariably lead down an unpleasant rabbit hole that starts with ‘Bulgarian ankle wank’, meanders to all manner of atrocities involving white ankle socks and not once will it end in a bandaged foot in an elevated position. Well not unless it also involves a dwarf in a gimp suit brandishing two flaming dildos shouting obsceneties about the size of your toes.

And then you’ll need to delete your browsing history.

Anyway, lets leave those Sheffield folk to their weird ways and get back to more medical matters. Dirty bastards.

Turns out that when stepping down into the garden yesterday I went over on my ankle and chipped a bone. After a few minutes of agony on the grass I managed to get inside, took a few ibuprofen and iced it with a bag of peas. About an hour later I took a look thinking it would be a little swollen only to see A half tennis ball sized lump where my ankle used to be.

Anyway, it was off to the hospital and an xray later I was fitted with a boot and told to mostly take it very very easy for 3-6 weeks. All for one little chipped bone.

Guess I’ll need to be particularly careful with what I eat given my mobility will be particularly limited.

Turns out wanking really is bad for you.

My wellbeing journey – March Results

Screw you March.

First things first. Screw March. That’s right, you and the horse you rode in on.

Now that that’s out of the way let’s see how it went last month shall we.

Look, it wasn’t a bad month. I have had worse. I have had month’s where it feels like I have single handedly supported the chocolate industry through challenging trading conditions. There were periods where I am certain that I ensured a healthy dividend pay-out to Krispy Kreme shareholders. And there were times when my expanding girth definitely kept nimble fingered small children in far-eastern sweatshops gainfully employed as I was forced to replace my wardrobe with less ill fitting garments.

It was just a month where things just felt …meh.

Yes I managed to do 12000 steps a day at least, and mostly I drank plenty of water every day. I even managed to maintain a relatively normal amount of calories. So like I said, not a bad month. It just felt rather out of control and by chance and not at all focussed. I think I concentrated too much on simple calorie intake rather than focussed meals which left me eating lots of snacks or in-between type of food instead of prepared meals (during the day at least as most nights I have a Hello Fresh meal ready to prep and devour).

I just found it all rather annoying as I know I can do better.

So this month I have started with a renewed focus on balancing my intake and ensuring I have a good balance of Carbs, proteins, fat and fibre. (though I may have threatened to do that last month too). I am also increasing my calorie intake as have been doing some research and think I need to eat more. Sounds daft right, but we shall see whether increasing my calories by around 500 (but focussing on balance inputs) makes a difference.

That said, it’s Easter this weekend so there has been a ton of chocolate around so my balance may be a little off for a couple of days. I simply cannot resist a Cadburys cream egg. I just can’t so I don’t even try.

Anyway, so after 10 months I remain about 22Kg(48 pounds) down from where I started. Not bad I guess. Could have been better but then again, could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Theodore Rufus Doggington the 1st. Off on our merry medieval meanderings…

Welcome to the past

So it turns out that about ten minutes from the house there is an old medieval road. I shit you not. Dating back at least 500 years, the Magna Via is the old road between Wakefield and Halifax and what is left of it passes not far from where I live. Now I didn’t intend to walk up it (this was my first time) but found it quite by chance and next thing you know me and Theo had been out of the house for 2 hours and had walked about 5 miles. That might sound fun, and it was, there was however the small matter of me only intending to pop out so I was wearing inappropriate footwear and was actually supposed to be working. I ended up taking a number of work calls from the hills around Hipperholme explaining that I would return to my desk and view the PowerPoint presentation once I was able to figure out where I was and how long it might take me to get home. Isn’t working from home just great.

It’s quite fabulous that you can be merrily walking along and then suddenly there you are, wandering a cobbled road that runs up through the countryside. The cobbles are a recent addition (around 1740) and in many places they are in pretty good order. In others they are long gone but all along the way there are so many reminders of a byway long abandoned to all but adventurous folk in sturdy footwear.

If you follow the road long enough it brings you out to Beacon hill which overlooks Halifax, but I kept that treat for next time. Anyway here are a few photos. Welcome to the past.