A rebel without a clue.

I'm looking at my snoring dog laid dreamily on my left hand side. We've returned from a penultimate walk before my flight on the 21st May. At nearly nine he is getting just too old for more than a few miles sniffing, peeing and trundling around the Wetherby District footpaths and bridleways. He'll come with me eagerly once I mention 'walk', bound along Braine Road and York Road looking back expectantly and he'll still demand, glancing back in my direction, we go where he likes best; leading the way towards the various paths we've traced over the years, but now, by the last home leg, Snoopy is really thinking of the treats he has in store once he arrives back at 42: a nice rub down with a warm towel, a twisty 'chewy' hide stick, a biscuit (various) and chilling/sleeping until dinner this afternoon: he has his zone on the seat - it is his and he'll always move any incumbent on from there with a nudge and a penetrating stare. I love him implicitly ...

This spring snoops has fallen into a habit of scratching at his door at 5am. His incessant request to be let into our beds and his shifting body, from then until we wake, is making us tired by lunch time. Mum fell heavily on her knee while chasing the Harrogate to Wetherby 770 bus yesterday. I took snoops for a morning swim in the sluggish Wharfe. She's laid up and canceling all her social occasions and suggesting she may need to venture to a&e. Her knee, although bruised and painful, won't be broken as she'd be agonizing and be unable to walk on it? I have tried to talk her out of a long and unnecessary trip to Harrogate hospital. I see that preschools now have a safety measure in place to prevent the kind of accident I had early in my school life. At Loftus Infants/pre school I put my right smallest finger in the space between the hinge and the door and had my finger split from tip to first join. It was my third or fourth memory, one may be false and a memory of m...

Dogs are clumsy and generous Cats are dainty and mean Dogs are rough and ready Cats are shirts and tidy Dogs might whiff a bit Cats will usually smell serene Dogs take a life of walking Cats make a life of stalking Dogs can't take solitary life Cats are happier on their own Dogs are part of the family Cats scorn friendship alone. Dogs are always hungry Cats are usually lean Cats make giant furballs Dog licks their balls But the they both make us happy When we return after a long day From the trials and tribulation Of that thing we call an occupation

M onkey puzzle trees right, left and left left. A solitary weeping willow too. Arranged around the Eastgate/Quarryhill roundabout, which is now disused where once there were fountains and before that a Fina Garage. I am travelling back towards Wetherby on the 3rd of May and I am telling myself I need to visit Mind, the mental health charity, on Kirkstall Lane, and I must venture there soon. This bus always takes the same forsaken route to get out of Leeds; with its bland 'To Let' bulldozed wastelands, low rise warehousing with its pulled down shutters and a Nissan flagship and another few dozen flurried showrooms which are so out of place in this cheap rent part of Leeds. Where the very nature itself springs from the roofs of too often forgotten Victoriana: Tailors', Machinists' and Pressers' Trade Union on Cross Stamford Street . From behind me on the bus I hear the sound of second hand 'r n b', the dumb and chavie youths music of distinction, but ...

I got up fairly easily at 7:45am. After bathing I watered my pinto bean sprouts and washed my black eyed beans. Angry and frustrated by 9am. Felt i couldn't get into the day. Took full bin bag out(again)...with neighbours. Got to street lane. Told help the aged I wouldn't really be able to make any other day than Saturday; will be in a 1pm all being well. Popped to Starbucks to kill an hour: got a really good book by Stephen Baxter( Timelike Infinity ) from the Beige-ists. Ran and caught number 12 outside Flying pizza. Arrived at surgery for 11am. Waiting Room No. 2: Mum, dad and out of control child. Sat down reading for 15 minutes, but then dreadlocked child climbed in my space; told parents. All the waiting room and decided to climb on my lap. What am i meant to do/say? 'can you keep your child out of my space?' She thought I was moody,'he's only a child!' Grumpy: you're his mother be more assertive. The father looked at me daggers: i couldn't ...

G ot myself to a Starbuck's in the 'Heart' of Roundhay to send you a missive...I went for a long walk with me new flatmate today and wanted to write a poem on the change that occurs between early joyful snow and brown hell sent, self obsessed slush; writing poems in my head never works out...i need paper!!! lets try it...1.2.3 On Monday gladly the snow fell on our roofs and minds By Tuesday slowed had the traffic to zero or no go Or Tuesday it was so crisp my body rocked off a ledge or 2 Between some words were exchanged without a cuddle ensuing. Thursday we played common cold on a bus frozen glare Friday was a bouncy doggy walking heaven; sticks and eating snow Saturday we must confess zero activity on the park - good fish food. Sunday early jaunt but displaced by crowded, rotten, selfish, heavy handed brown stained virginity. This needs an aside or two... I had the best of times and the worst of times in the snow deep and cold and emoting. Tuesday T...

28/01 Went to Meet the B'ageists 1300, to pick up that IT textbook from 1976. I will pull it to pieces and use it...thank you Susan , not woolbridge, but Wooldridge? This book is actually part of a series. Just like the dogshit up Roman pooh alley. I needed to be eagle eyed, I am action man circa 1972...What is a dridge? is it a ridge and a dredge or is it d'ridge - look at that d'ridge man! How about a d'ri-dge-man - prior to cro-magnon! http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=dridge Alexis said meet the Beigeists. I like that! I think we have Alpha B'ageists and Beta B'ageists. Alpha's work in the shop for an hour a week and Beta's come in to talk for an hour a week. One has 2inch long grey hairs all over her muzzle! I wonder if she stopped owning a mirror when her husband died in 1982? or maybe it helps keep her warm? Maybe she is really a he! I noticed our Romantic park is being landscaped by the local council dudes init. Soon the bump...