Now for something a bit odd...someone has subscribed to my blog!  Welcome, whoever you are, although the why is a bit strange!  It does not appear that they have a blog site, so it will be interesting to see what comes of it (hopefully NOT PORN!!!!!!!!!!!!)  It does seem a bit uneven though, as they will read my stuff but I will know nothing of them unless they choose-hmm, a strange thought that.  Still, if anything I write is of help to anyone then it all goes towards pumping up my good karma er...I think.

The hippy's epiphany has kind of led to one of my own and much thought as to where I want to go with my own life.  I have always wanted to teach but not primary or secondary - I want to teach adults and I would particularly like to teach English as a foreign language.  The problem with that is I do not have a spare £1,500 to take the course (no funding available for CELTA).  So, I figured that as teaching adults is a whole different ball game i.e. you can't get in through PGCE's etc, then obviously there must be another way and there is...I can do a City and Guilds in Teaching Diplomas (there are many and varied ones - and even qualified teachers have to have them now) and, I know there is funding available for them but and this is the kicker, do you think I can find any info about them?  No sirree - at least, I can't find out how to apply for the funding but maybe, this is the ultimate test in dedication!

Things have been, I think it's fair to say, mighty strained and strange here.  It began by my leaving the post open.  Generally, he does not read my blog, perhaps because like an eavesdropper, he will hear no good of himself!  Curiosity being what it is for most people, I thought with the blog open he might, just might be curious for once.  Ultimately, he read it.

When I am stressed, I withdraw inward.  In many ways this is NOT a good thing but it is the way I deal with it.  The weekend before my birthday, I sought refuge in apathy and disinterest in everything.  I even went back to bed once he had vacated which is simply unheard of.  I lay on my side gazing out of the window, completely unresponsive to everything except my cats, who were delighted to share the bed with me.

This behaviour, the reading of my blog and his time away at the Small Nations Festival seems to have resulted in some kind of epiphany for the hippy.  There seems to be a change in him that I can almost feel physically.  There have been no promises to change, there have been no apologies but there has been NO alcohol and there is a calm strength that has not been present before.  There seems to have developed an inner core of steel which is radiating positive vibrations and the change is frankly startling.  There has been no loud fanfare to herald these changes they have simply appeared, like a physical manifestation of 'reaslisation'.  Somehow, this time it feels very different.  I suspect it is the lack of blubbering apologies and the weak promises of 'never again'.

Since his return I have come home to prepared meals and a clean house, well fed and happy animals; laundry done and bed made!  He has gone about it all willingly and happily unlike the resentful attitude of before.  Is it too soon to trust, well, yes of course it is but at the same time, this change seems to have come from deep within.

I asked him whether he read my blog and he said he had.  I asked him how he felt reading it and he said that he had actually felt sorry for me, which he admitted was new to him.  I then asked him if he genuinely believed that his actions had no consequences on my emotions and strength and he replied that he had previously not even given my feelings a thought.  I asked him how he felt now that he knew - "Enlightened" was his reply.

For my birthday he bought me 30 books, saying that he would have bought the exact number for my years but that he would not have been able to carry them on public transport.  (Yes, yes, I could have taken that in many different ways but I chose the positive one!)  His 'piece de resistance' was a first edition book on "Profitable Herb Growing and Collecting" by Ada B Teetgen published by Country Life, 1916.  His reasoning?  This book was published when cottage industries still made money.  The book is a mine of information and absolutely delightful.  The chapter I love best is - VII.  Herbalist Pharmacy and the Revival of the Domestic Still Room.  Wonderful!

He appears to be making sensible future plans, less impossible and dreamy as they used to be.  He is asking me questions on my hobbies and putting forward suggestions - in other words, he seems interested and to be listening intently.  I have seen him checking out e-bay for some of my needs, particularly candle molds (SO expensive new) and waxes made without dead animals!  He brings home herbs in pots and is keen to improve any domestic arrangements, turning the ubiquitous cupboard under the stairs into a (dare I say this?!) still room, dried and tin goods larder, wine cellar and Dyson area!  Hence 'ubiquitous' - as it's obviously of TARDIS proportions...ha! sadly however, only on the outside.

So, what am I to do with this shiny new, re-born Shaman hippy, domestic god-ling, who has emerged 'butterfly'-like from his cocoon of depression?  His rainbow colours and personality almost blinding!  Well, I shall tell you what I think...I shall do the title of my blog and SEIZE THE MOMENT for however long that moment lasts.  I shall enjoy and appreciate him and give him the encouragement to continue, I shall immerse him in his Shaman ways and take him along my hedge witch paths.  I shall nurture and praise by words and deed and in turn I will accept his attempts at reparation and whatever new thing this epiphany brings to the relationship.  I shall cherish this time however transitory and fleeting it might be and in so doing, I will find the strength to heal myself and becalm my fears, so that if it does not last, I will have regained enough strength to finally let him go.

It has taken me five years of hard graft to make my relationship with my partner vaguely tolerable.  It has come to me hard that for most of his life he has had an affair with the bottle.  We are deep in debt but still he finds the money to go out and drink.  Worse, the bills are all in my name apart from his fines for drink driving!  He is incapable of holding down a job and ranks amongst his friends, complete eternal 'dole-ites' who spend all day in the pub, leaving partners at home to bring up children or whatever.  I work full time in a job I love but that doesn't pay all that well.  My entire salary goes on bills and car maintenance, yet still he drinks.  It's not high on my priority list but I haven't been to a hairdresser in six or seven years, just as an example.  I can only buy clothes from 'second' shops or charities.  Not that I have anything against charity shops and you can pick up some amazing bargains but occasionally, just occasionally, it would be nice to have a choice.

More often than not I come home to an empty house, with no meal and with no housework done.  To everyone else he has a heart of gold but to me, well...  He simply cannot see how badly he treats me...not in a violent way, although...and please don't take this the wrong way, physical violence would not be tolerated for an instant and he would well and truly be gone.  This is worse...he seems apathetic towards me and I feel that he is using me purely as a financial fall back.  What upsets me the most is that he is a potential genius.  He could be a fine environmentalist given half the chance but doesn't try hard at anything because failure isn't something he deals with very well.  Fair enough I say but not trying is failure in itself.  No surprises for guessing he doesn't see it like that!  He happily goes about the environmental issues dealing with the Small Nations Festival and cracks on with the ordering of all sorts of recycling matters...but this is unpaid and he has spent a small fortune on kitting himself out with tent and cooking utensils without a thought for our financial situation.  Whilt doing this he is animated and chatty and I am glad and happy for him and say so but, at the same time, I am saddened that he cannot see that I cannot share any of this joy with him because deep down, I feel resentful that he blithely goes about all this in a carefree and unrestrained manner, whilst I see only the mounting debts.  It is beyond him to see that I would give anything to be as carefree about things as he is but I have responsibilities with the ark of animals and routines that have to be maintained.  Not to mention the bills!

I love him very much and have told him to leave and go back living on the festival circuit but what then?  What will he do with all his belongings?  I can enter into some sort of deal with my creditors as I only have the council tax to worry about as a primary debt, all the rest can technically go to hell.  It's not that I don't want to pay up, it's that I can't pay up, especially if he's here and drinking it all away.

He seems to be draining me of energy and happiness.  I no longer discuss my work with him as it upsets him and he is clearly very envious of me working for a conservation society but again, what he doesn't understand is that I am admin, not a conservation officer.  I go off on bat watches but this is in my own time and costs nothing as it's in the local area.  I do not travel out of the area because I simply cannot afford the fuel, much as I would like to.  He thinks me foolish for identifying these constraints but what would happen if I had no fuel to go to work?  Does he imagine deep happiness for us if we both end up claiming benefits?  Admittedly, we do live in an employment black spot but travel is something easily remedied and we live close to Swansea, Llanelli and Carmarthen, one city and two large towns.  Yet I see no sign that he is actively looking for a job.

It is my birthday on Wednesday and he has informed me that he has bought me a present.  Why?  Best present I could have is him getting a job and keeping it for more than six weeks.  That however is too prosaic and not in keeping with his fantasy world.  My 50th birthday was a complete and utter disaster and I ended up with a lovespoon I bought myself...no meal...no surprise party - nothing.  Zip, zilch, nil, nada.  I was upset but apparently that was unreasonable of me as he didn't have a job so couldn't make any grand gestures.  For his big birthday I organised a party in Manchester, where all his old uni friends turned up and it had been a nightmare in logistics as I was organising it from down in deepest Wales - yet I achieved it and it was a great night.  He asked me the other day what I had done for HIS birthday...I was speechless, hurt and very unhappy to even be asked it.  Of course, he was drunk.

When he is drunk he is petty and incredibly, incredibly spiteful and vicious with his tongue.  I make him drink you know.  Obviously, his previous life was practice for the anticipated relationship with me in the future!  He cannot see that by standing by him I have proven how much I love him time and time again.  He sees it perfectly well when sober and is constantly apologising and telling me how much he loves me - but, words are not enough anymore.  Actually, I don't know if they ever were.  I remember my mum always saying to me...don't tell me you love me...show me!  It's taken me a long time to realise what she meant.

I simply cannot go on with all this unhappiness.  I feel as if I'm living with a psychic vampire, draining me of my enjoyment of simple things and my bank balance - ha! what bank balance?  I believe there are three things that make daily life bearable - your work life, your social life and your family life.  If one of those things is wrong, the others will help you over come but if two are wrong then you have problems.  My work life is fine apart from the low pay; social life I do not have but that is largely because I am an anti-social sort of person and it was a choice I made almost unconsciously and my family life...well, as you see.

He complains that I lack support for his projects but that is not true.  I have supported him in spirit and body only to be let down with his drinking, yet he seems to expect that support to constantly be there.  This support I try and tell him needs nurturing too and my love needs love to thrive and be returned and then once again come back to me.  I feel I have none of that.  He is withdrawn from me on a most fundemental level yet he expects me to deal with that.  When I have problems, I am told that I am self-indulgent - which of course leave me once again bereft of speech.  Where does he think I get strength to deal with him?  Even my deepest depths are not bottomless and they are constantly being drained.

When drunk, he thrives on belitteling me, you can see in his face that he is thoroughly enjoying it.  I cannot for the life of me understand what I have ever done to deserve this treatment.  Does he not respect me because I love him?  Does he think so very little of me that he can despise me and consider that my loving him is a weakness?  To all others he is an honourable and brilliant friend, why cannot he be so caring in his dealings with me?

I am obviously no good for him and perhaps it is another woman who will staunch his 'leaving Las Vegas' lifestyle as he clearly does not love me enough to try for long.  He came home drunk again tonight, as he has done for the past three nights and announced that he was leaving.  I love him but sometimes loving means saying goodbye.  Yet, he will take that the wrong way as well.  I cannot win whatever I do and I am so very tired of trying to please him, drunk or sober.  I don't sleep well at night worrying about everything when I should be able to confide these worries to him - but I cannot and I am alone and lonely.  I am in the depth of despair and I don't know how to deal with it, never having been here before.

If you have read this far and have not found me self indulgent then I am grateful.  If you have any advice, I would also be grateful, as I am floundering.  I shall now take my very weary body and mind to read in bed, leaving him passed out on the couch as usual.  I shall take my wonderfully purring and soporific cats with me and the dogs will lie at the foot.  I shall enjoy hearing their sleepy breathing and hope that this simple act will let me drift off into deep breathing of my own, to heal me in many ways.  I shall though without doubt greet the dawn, wide awake and worried about what tomorrow will bring.  I used to greet every new day as a challenge, now I just dread another drunken nasty outburst.

I wish you all a very good, quiet and peaceful night's rest.

The other was admittedly quite funny and I have no problem sending it off to others as it contained no threats of any kind.  However, what I will absolutely NOT do is send to my friends e-mails threatening death of any variety.  WTF is all that about?  How really evil and nasty is that?  Furthermore, what's the point of it all?  Strange way of getting published if you ask me!  Needless to say I binned it but thought about others who might be intimidated by this.  I mean, some people must, mustn't they, otherwise chain letters would never be perpetuated?  I think it's horrible, vile and just plain childish.  If I could only find out who originated the e-mail I would send them a horrible letter right back.  It's ,made me really angry and frustrated that I can't 'get at them'.  Ah but then, that would make me no better than them.  Wonder if they could be reported/sued for threatening behaviour?  Maybe chain letters should be criminalised, particularly if they contain threats of your imminent death or the death of those close to you!

1.  What was I doing ten years ago?
Lessee...*thinks* had just returned to Britain after a seven year stint in Germany with the Royal Military Police.  Decided to go to Uni as a mature student to study Medieval European History.  Got separated.  Had two jobs.  Took in lodgers all to pay the mortgage!!!

2.  Five things to do today.
As it's 10 to 11, do this; undress; go to bed; watch Indi & Crystal from Torrent; sleep.

3.  Snacks I enjoy.
Hmmm...loads...crisps...jaffa cakes...celery...eating toms like apples...gherkins...pickled onions ad infinitum

4.  Things I would do if I were a billionaire.
Make inroads into eliminating world debt and poverty, stop poachers for bear gall bladders and rhino horn, elephant ivory and child slave pornography.  Actually, if I were a billionaire, I would genuinely try and get rid of money and go back to bartering!

5.  Places I have lived.
Swansea, Wales; Monte Carlo, France; Montpellier, France; Llanelli, Wales; Ammanford, Wales; Detmold, Germany; Berlin, Germany; Colechester, England; Chester, England; Buckley, Flintshire; Manchester, England; now back in Wales again.

As I stand at the top of the garden and look down it's 100ft length to the blue hills yonder, I physically have to put my fist in my mouth to stop myself from saying...

I want a shrubbery!!!

Which I don't...but wanting to say it was overwhelming.

I have just read timsuzi's blog and he's come up with 44 things NOT to do before you die...so I'm gonna see if I can make it to 44 as well...

Anyway, the gist of the post was that I thought I should warn everyone in the South West Wales area that should there be an explosion, it's probably going to be my fault.  So, if anyone has any 'safe' recipies they would like to share with a 'luna'-tic, then please feel free to correspond.  In the meantime, I shall get it all down on paper first - that way, I can take it with me to make sure the yeast is SUPPOSED to do that!

And...

Talking of alcohol, I would just like to praise my friend Pauline's Christmas cake, after one slice of which you simply CANNOT drive.  She makes it in August and once a week from then until Christmas, she pours a glass of brandy, red rum and some sort of sweet liquer into it, (suspect Kirsch only she aint telling!), alternating the weeks.  It is absolutely gorgeous but really, you seem to get drunk from the ankles upwards.  You think you're fine till you try and stand up.  Like that T-shirt, one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor!  I suspect it would also be foolhardy to smoke after it as well!

Every time he passed through reception, he would stop...look out of the glass double doors...shake his head sadly and say, very quietly and from the heart, "...and still it rains."

My very big thanks go to Marvo for resurrecting his 'Something for the weekend' spot, as it has been sorely missed and for dedicating his first one in a while to yours truly.  A double whammy

I have just made the most delicious bread and butter pudding out of some hot cross buns someone gave me - well, frankly, I didn't know what else to do with them and originally took them into work as a free for all.  However, when the boss suggested I could make bread & butter pudding out of them, they went straight back in my bag.  I have just pulled it out of the oven and have unceremoniously given myself a very large helping.  Praying that I had remembered how to make the sauce, I have to say, it's not too bad, not too bad at all.  Damn shame the hippy doesn't like it