week commencing 11th December 2023.

Monday morning. Awake early so decided to wash my bed linen. Should be coming back this way this evening as Lola will be at my mum's and she says there is too much mess for me to sleep on the floor with Lola nestled in alongside me. But that's the way of my mother. To accept her... That's all I need.

My cousin Robert, and his son Eddie, had the best news possible. He's cured of the terrible disease (cholesteatoma) he'd had growing into his brain from his ear for years. With laser treatment it appears all of the bad cells have been zapped away(hurrah)!

***

On my quest I have been searching for some Truth which is an Ultimate final/thing which will set me free. The thing at the core of all the many layers which are aspects of untruth in my experience and in my mind? But I think I've realised it's a goal I can't possibly reach; and perhaps it's out of reach of beings so incomplete as homo sapiens? And I have to let go of this desperate search?

***

From the prosaic to the profound. Washing bedding and then trying to grasp my existence. From being pragmatic: having a clean bed to grappling with absolutely unknowable depths of reality. It's my life...

***

I went back to Wetherby, but I can't settle at my mum's as everything is all over the place. Things which have been there on the floor for 20plus years are now joined by other things which have been in cupboards since around 1989 (when we moved in). And I had to get back to the flat once more. It's got fresh bedding this evening and I made frioles negros.

***

Back to Wetherby once more this morning. The weather is wet. We crossed over the Boston Spa Bridge on the number 7, yesterday, and the tide was high, as the Wharfe had overflown its banks, once more. Further up the Wharfe so it doesn't surprise me it floods: the point near the Sewage works... But when they built the bridge they knew it's potential?

***

My concentration on podcasts has drifted away. I was listening intently, but now most of the 'discussion' is not going in to my grey matter... I don't know if the subject matter is just a little meh? I have discovered this Free Thinking podcast from Radio 3, but the discussion about bureaucracy I was listening to mentions too many authors and books I've never heard of: it's a bit trainspotter-y... And it's hard to follow any discussion which becomes so specific.

***

Wednesday morning and I finally stayed in cluttered Wetherby. I had Lola to myself most of the day, except when I went to 'read' in Wetherby. Either side of her final walk, and as she was 'lungeing' for her dinner back to number 42. And she was gone when I returned, but today she'll have me to herself again, but we'll walk somewhere different. Mum wants me her again tonight. Perhaps I can if I can alter the venues of going to 'read'. In my youth I could quite happily read on my bed, etc, but now I like to be having a half, or a bottle and occasionally a pint of beer.

If mother was away I could stay with Lola all the time, but I am always a little nervous about spending too much time around mum, as there is too much conflict between us - stupid arguments about the differences between us which are nonsensical really...

***

As always I sit with the cafeterie, and search for a podcast. And it's interesting. Stuff! Our obsession with things.

But I am finding the 5 strength French roast a bit too bitter now.  I think I'll go down to level 3...

***

Satisfactory Wednesday with Lola, but mum's house is too chaotic for me currently...

***

Excellent Thursday. Had a great walk to Collingham and back alongside the river and back through Linton and the Golf Course. She did well. We went calmly.

***

And last night. The final thing I said to the person on the door outside Belgrave is 'there is no god but God'. And I understand it totally. But why am I still wavering? On a doorway. The passageway ahead is the only way... But I am still toxic. I am still ruining the possibilities. I am still not allowing it to be total. The thing I now know. The option of absolute happiness.

It takes two. Another person has to meet me? But the other person is me?

***

Friday arrived and I caught the 8:42(delayed) train towards Chester. Bought a ticket to Hebden Bridge and got off the train at Halifax. After a brief visit to the Piece Hall, Borough Market and Gibbet I left Halifax for Fountainhead(where there was once a brewery) along a cobbled old way, behind rows of terraced houses where I've never as much litter - which eventually petered out - in an an area I assume was part of the railways or another mill in Pellon.

***

Saturday morning. After a very good night's sleep, but without able to put the fitted sheets on the bed so being forced to sleep on top of the duvet(cover too short) with the sheet fitted around me and a blanket above ... I went down to sort coffee and pre-breakfast breakfast at 6am. Complaint about the hostel - lights on all night in all the communal areas and no means to quieten the lights! What an utter waste of electricity in this so-called eco town - Hebden Bridge.

Yet more Elton John. The blues I get from his ubiquity. But I stopped opposite the original bridge over the Hebden. I saw that up above Heptonstall at New Edge there is an iron mineral spring. New Edge Chalybeate... That's my first destination today ...

***

I reached the spring and filled my flask - after I had drunk what I was carrying with me. Then I made the joyful journey back in to HB through the wooded valley: where Hardcastle Crags and Gibson's Mill are (both of which I didn't see) as I went down to the edge of the Hebden and walked along it, following a vague path until I was forced to go round an obstacle: a plainly green rock which tilted at 45° into the river, as the water scurried on to join the many streams and falls further on into the Calder, and I got muddy and wet and was on the edge of being sucked into the mires: but it was ace! Three hours round trip. Up and down. A loop. 

***

Hebden Bridge is shite though. It's just another 'Glastonbury' with it's magic rocks and ethical nonsense: and the penultimate Saturday before Christmas: meh. However I returned to the stall that the guy who I've seen previously in Todmorden - Dosa - who was setting up at 8am and ate dahl before a couple of beers in Drink, which the second time round found as uninspiring as Friday. Heading back via The Oldgate and one half there I caught the train back to Leeds at 2:15pm.

Then back to the mayhem of Leeds: which I couldn't swerve to miss. So stumbled in at 7:20pm and finished of the porridge I'd been carrying with me since Friday morning.

***

There are some very beautiful parts of the world. Uncountable. And in the UK, and in Yorkshire the same is true. I would love to walk more of it, but the cost... Astonishing.