A rebel without a clue.

Is there a kitchen for me to make a coffee? Awake at 6:15am, breakfast not for another hour. Slept well in very quiet Montmartre. It's was quite a climb to get to the Guesthouse in time for diner, which I missed, but they had saved some food for me... A bowl of soup, a ragot de Bolognese and plenty of bread. Part of me says don't breakfast here as it was only €4, but what is an hour? I always am a little anxious prior to starting these schemes. But only 23kms from Tour Saint Jacques to Vauhallan, a bit further if I walk from Montmartre, which I should as that's the way. It will be a relief to be out of Paris with it's distractions. Luckily I don't care about Moulin Rouge, Louvre etc. This morning I will be putting one foot in front of the other all day long... I will walk, but I will have a proper break around one if I leave here on the dot of 8...thirty. *** A finger infection. Having an allotment brings with it hazards. Humans are frail. It's not pulsating yet...

I've so many aches and pains... Ingrowing toenail and a septic finger. Sore knees and knuckles. And the excruciating pain on the ball of my foot. Ibuprofen at the ready I feel... Antibiotics would be helpful! Getting to 50 and all the shutters are closing on half day... Give me back youth. Or would that help? Being youthful is healthy, but far too manic. I am 50 and I've got an allotment... Have I moved into the 5th age of man after the tumultuous 4th, where I was in a spinning frenzy. Last time I was in Paris, 2016, I didn't care if I lived or died (I was hoping for death to take me). So I was running around looking everywhere for a cheap bed, eventually the Bishop/Priest at Saint Severin allowed me to sleep in the crypt with the homeless. Walked up to the allotment, before heading to Deerstone Ridge for the 7:30am, to see that all the stuff I put in on Sunday are bedded in. The weather has changed: cooler and full covering of dull! So hopefully the potatoes will be fine, ...

Deep fried Korean Street Food... Not a positive experience. An unhealthy option. Much better to make my own food as I know exactly what is in it. That's it - a final weekend. Sunday and Monday - calm before departure. I'll need to get up early on Tuesday to collect a couple of items I have forgotten: waterproof trousers and microtowel. But that's OK. Better to leave before merry legs appears. Yesterday I repotted all 18 of the tomato seedlings into larger containers and, once mum's Airbnb guest has departed, I will bring them back inside and on the window sill in my bedroom. Slept on the floor for a little while, but I just couldn't get comfortable eventually, especially with the Korean Street Food rumbling around my bowels ungraciously, so I slept the remainder of the night on the Sofa, more comfortable but too short. Today I am going to spend most of the day doing stuff related to the allotment. I need to move some stuff up to it - broccoli and peas - I hope someo...

So begins another day. The bath is run. Ready for me to slip in and freshen up after the last few days of sweating and smelling. Lola and I walked to Boston Spa and back, around 11 miles, in glorious sunshine. By the climax she was screaming for a little sustenance so I gave her a little rice, chicken and stock around 1pm prior to her normal feed/dinner time at 3. After that I returned on a quiet X98 to the flat to change and head for a few halves in Leeds. 7 halves between 4 and 8 and one bottle of Kirkstall Dissolution. Read plenty of the Consolations of Philosophy  prior to a Shwarma and then back to place the washed clothing on the rack and bed around 8:15pm. No hangover, but slightly wobbly stomach from spicy meaty. First meat for a few weeks. At lunch mum had left me a Chicken leg to go with the rice so I broke the meat fast yesterday. Glenn is coming at 7:30 to help me move the seedlings back to 42: they're looking very healthy... I just hope that the lift is operating...

Good morning: it's Friday. It's been a busy week, so far, and today, although slightly different, will be too. No Archie to take for a walk(or to take for a sniff/lick) as David, his owner, is back from the meeting he has been at so there are two of them in that busy busy household: I couldn't ever live their kind of chaos. I don't know when they have time to breath? So it's just Lola and I until Tuesday, when I set sail for France, to go and enjoy each other's company. She's been super at adjusting - she's taken her foot off the accelerator while Archie slowly meanders through an hour of sniff, lick and unrinate - how different, considering they are the same age, they are. Luckily they David and Co don't need me at all in the summer - which means I only have Ruby to cater for, as I have already told Dan Jones I can't look after his unruly duo. Tomorrow Glenn is helping me to bring the tomato seedlings back from 69 to 42 to repot and leave for mu...

Trying to slow down my approach to Wetherby, or anything, is difficult: I am always hyper tense. But I've done many things this morning before I bathe, clothe and depart for the 8am X99 to a morning of dogs, an afternoon of cleaning number 42, a late afternoon of dogs and a quiet night at 42; better go turn off the tap? I'd never been one to check the time, at all, but now I tend to plan things around the divisions of the day; a logical step towards sanity? The wash is 15 minutes away from completion and I'd like to be out of the flat around 7:15 prior to the walk down Albion Street to Boar Lane to pick up the bus as it begins its journey north east to Wetherby.

Just after 7am. Spoke to Shiney - Alcohol Counsellor - about being unable to come up with a Goal. What I supposed she meant as a Life Goal - giving meaning to my existence - she actually meant just for the next 2 weeks between sessions. So banal and trivial. I'm not bothered about the small picture I am concerned with the totality: unless i don't have another Existential Crisis. I've told myself that my 50th year will be a year of change or it will be my last. There is nothing beyond the 2nd February 2023 for me if this year is the same, personally, warts and all, than the previous 10 years since I descended into this pitiful state. Isn't it pointless seeing a person who is only concerned for my next two weeks when I am concerned about the next two decades?