A rebel without a clue.

First night at my mum's for a while - since prior to heading to France on the 6th September - and I forgot how quiet it is before she wakes and gets on with being nearly 80. My sister had an interview for a new job on Friday, which she was very eager to get, and she's got it. So no more decorating people's homes, and back to being an account manager if she takes it... Yesterday afternoon I caught the 1455 bus from The Spinney to Hornbeam, getting off near the Woodlands and walking Ruby through Hookstone Woods there and back. Coming back to hers to feed her, and leave her settled, I came back through Bank Street, which was an error. That one beer pushed me into snacking before bed: cheese! I'd told myself to miss out Wetherby and Harrogate yesterday... One out of two isn't too bad. Mother is stirring so I'll go and get washed, brush my teeth and then take Lola out for an hour or so once she arrives on the scene? *** Just after six in Belgrave and. Ploughing throu...

Ruby is a bed hogging dog. To say she's so petite for a Vizsla she moves continually against any space which appears between myself and her: but, foolishly, I let her share the bed last night when I could easily have put her in the crate, left her on the couch or shown her mummy's bed... It's all good. As the rain falls heavily on the velux window panes I dwell on the ticket to Reus I booked last night: 14th October to get away to the Mediterranean once more for perhaps another two weeks walking somewhere away from where autumn comes on leaps and bounds? All the memories of that trip back in June: during the first heatwave of 2022 have presented themselves for my mental enjoyment. It's funny how easy those memories pop out from the recess, or the crevice, they hide away in deep in the mind... I can stay until before half term and come back to Leeds Bradford for €14.99... *** Just a brief walk with Ruby who is also, like me, struggling from our night in the same bed! Her...

7am chimes on the lounge clock and I am sat next to lovely Ruby, again, from where she hasn't moved all night: after our adventure to Hornbeam Park Business Park and back to Wetherby Road in a loop dissected by a brief visit to The Traveller's Rest Inn and a longer stay, during a funeral wake, at Rooster's Taproom(first time visit). Both our bellies are gurgling and Ruby shifts, farts in my face and settles once more until we depart around 7:30am when those damn builders turn their radio on once more. Woke after a peaceful sleep around 5am and that was it... At 2 I sought the toilet and at 4 I told Ruby to stop scratching the seat cover when she was building a nest in her semi-consciousness. But I feel fine regardless of those breaks. I think I slept totally from 9 anyway, having managed only a couple of pages of the new novel I've begun: Aldous Huxley's Time Must Have a Stop , before I was fast asleep. For the first time since Sunday I've had a bath and put on ...

Tuesday's here. 6 days left of being with Ruby up on Chestnut Avenue. She's been up to their bed and now is by my side as I wait a little before leaving with her around 7:30am, when the builders arrive. There appears to be no hot water this morning and after locating the boiler it seems very silent as I run the tap in the garage which is nearby. Sent a message to Maureen and will wash up last night's dishes once it's sorted; or resort to boiling a large pan of cold water on the hob top... Yesterday afternoon I prevaricated a little before catching the X70, through Follifoor, to the Stray for our afternoon walk. I really wanted Lola to have a quiet one after the long one on Sunday so didn't go anywhere near to Braine Road since I returned her around nine. *** Slept well, having had a succession of interesting dreams, until I was finally awake around 5:30am and toileted before opening Ruby's crate for her wriggle cuddle prior to her heading up to snuggle between t...

Instantly those thoughts of suicide came back. The morning I set off for the X98 towards Wetherby and what appears to be the meaninglessness of everything here. I struggle to see any worth in any of the activities I perform? Doing anything at the allotment was hard going. Will try again on Monday? This must be untrue... I let Ruby out of her nighttime crate: where I left her at 8pm, and I sought sanctuary in sleep, she leap out and gave me her wriggling good morning, happy to see you, cuddly thing and then went to find the remainder of her solace up on mummy's bed. For the previous two nights I'd had Lola over too, in my bed here on Chestnut Avenue, keeping me warm and snuggling: but that was on a belly of wine. Try again this evening but on an empty stomach. Yesterday morning we were on the bus by 8am heading for the Show Ground in Harrogate for a nosy around Crimple Beck, up to Hornbeam Park and Hookstone Woods: the closest expanse of parkland this side of Harrogate and only ...

The long journey back to Leeds. I was crawling into bed at 11 o'clock. Is it worth it? The tram journey through rotten at the core Manchester to buzz about Victoria Station and pay too much for the short, overcrowded Transpennine Express... It really isn't Express? Into another city who's core is diseased beyond remedy? Leeds. But I got back in one piece. Just a couple of halves along the mile or so up to Lovell Park Hill. A wash done. No hangover. Hot water for a bath, soak, cleanse, before heading back to Boar Lane to catch the X99 to Westgate, where I will pick up some dog food and milk from Sainsbury's, and the go and connect with all things Wetherby? Was it worth it? The last 15/16 days? Of course. I didn't think of suicide at all and only briefly considered those folks around me who do me no good abs and I ruminate over. Especially Adrian, who I didn't consider once until the morning of Wednesday...

Eight in the morning on the final day of the Chemin/Holiday(hem hem)... I don't enjoy walking 30 plus kilometres a day! It's just something which like any habit I do without considering it? And it brings me momentary relief from the banality of what goes on in England? It's not a holiday! Well I suppose it's a kind of one from the point of view of another who sees any break from monotony as a holiday? But if I had the means (financial) and no responsibilities (Lola, mother and allotment) I'd go for a substantial time: perhaps the whole month it takes to do something like the Camino Frances (even with its crowds)? Truthfully I've spent a little too many weeks in France this year, and my comprehension hasn't increase and my pronunciation is still pas , there are other places I would like to go on the Camino: from where I broke off. Back to Salamanca, Figueira da Foz or Tortosa and these probably should be the future starting points on the goal which would even...