Tag: down

September 15th – A bad day in many ways, when not much seemed to go to plan. It wasn’t very bad, just loads of minor irritations – and the weather; occasionally sunny and deceptively warm, but at other times almost painfully chilly, as if winter’s fingers were starting to get their grip on things.

The first tinges of the oncoming cold and dark are always the hardest, and this year they’ve come a lot sooner that I expected – but we have kind of got used to Indian summers in recent years, so perhaps this is a return to normal.

I came back from work in heavy, intemperate traffic having to make a call near Streets Corner, and all the while the skies to the south were showing evil intent. 

When I got home, mercifully before the rain came – I realised how glad I was to be back.

Some days, home is the best place to be.

September 3rd – The day was grim and overcast, and the weather horrid, and I was wiped out from the ride the day before. I confined myself to a short ride around Pelsall, Brownhills and Shelfield via the canal and old rail cycleway.

From the day before, in shirtsleeves getting a tan and sweating in the sun, to this: There was an unpleasant nip in the air, a serious wind and autumn touching the greenery in a way I find sad.

I do hope that wasn’t summer’s last breath…

August 19th – I was having a terrible day: I had plans to get out early, but the wind and weather were grim, and everything I did seemed like wading through treacle. 

After miserably writing blog posts, messing up dates and publicity schedules, I finally got a grip and went out, to find a bright periodically sunny late afternoon in which harvest was being completed and the fields of stubble were golden delights over towards Sandhills and Hammerwich.

The sight of that lovely church and converted windmill cheered me, as did the bright, surprisingly warm if short-lived sunshine.

A nice pick me up on an awful day.

June 24th – A terrible, terrible day; bad news locally made social media and managing the main blog fraught with difficulty, and in the evening, I just had to switch off everything and walk away.

I found solace in spannering the bike and taking a ride around a late-night, somnambulant Brownhills to get some shopping from Tesco, which doesn’t close until midnight, and late hours Tesco is always an otherworldly, odd experience.

The TZ90 I’m currently using – having returned the Canon deeply unimpressed – is much better in low light that the TZ80 and I’m much happier with it as a camera than I thought I would be. There’s hope for the Lumix superzoom compacts yet, it would seem.

At points this day, I could quite happily have taken a torch to my entire online existence, as if it never happened; sometimes running the kind of local blog I do gets more serious than one would ever imagine. 

But a run out on the bike and some healthy distance made me feel better, and I started Sunday refreshed.

March 22nd – A rainy, horrid day: I found myself at New Street waiting for a delayed train mid-morning, in a frankly foul mood. Nothing was moving and I felt stuck. As I looked out from the end of the platform, I spotted this train driver, heading to his post in the rain, and felt an instant sympathy.

Rainy day commutes are horrid.

March 13th – I headed for work feeling otherworldly and not really well at all. Nothing specific, but I was very tired, and I felt light headed, and not really there. On the way, the only thing that really broke my mood was the profusion of daffodils, which seem really early this year (but I don’t think they are).

I booked an appointment with the doctor for later in the week, and got to see a medical friend in the meantime.She told me I’d got low blood sugar and a previous medical issue was most likely playing up again, it would seem.

Sometimes it’s just nice to know you’re not losing the plot, and you really are unwell. Because once you know you’re not well, you know you’ll get better.

February 24th – The end of a very long, hard week. This week, I’ve worked a lot of hours, and found myself fighting the elements and often returning home late and tired.

I don’t mind the work, as I’m lucky enough to really enjoy my job, and being busy at this time of year is good as it makes those last, hard weeks of winter pass quickly.

But right now, as I crested the Black Cock bridge and looked down towards Camden Street, I could do with a break.

I’m knackered and I’m worn out!

February 12th – The fug continued throughout Sunday. Throughout the day, drizzle, sleet and snow, and the persistent, cursed absence of proper light. It was like someone had switched hope and optimism off. I found the day oppressive; I was caged, and I hate that. Hemmed in by the weather and a worsening mood.

I slipped out in the early evening to pop something over to a mate in Walsall Wood. A laugh and a shared moan about the lost weekend made things better. I returned to Brownhills, still in steady, cold drizzle, lifted, but still lost.

Bad weather will test even the greatest optimist.

January 8th – A miserable day, to be quite honest. I’d had plans, but I awoke late, and by the time I’d got the day’s jobs finished, the weather had turned drizzly, wet and unpleasant, and my plans for an afternoon riding over to north Warwickshire were lost.

I slipped out as dusk fell on a test ride, instead: I had stuff to do in Walsall Wood and Aldridge, and after a weekend monkeying with a bike with suspension, getting the damping control and lockout sorted, it needed testing, which was a good excuse for some restorative exertion.

On my way back, I passed Aldridge Marina, which looked rather wonderful in the thinniest, most insubstantial of mists. The combination of that, sodium light and woodsmoke made the scene magical.

Not a lost day, by any means, but not one I enjoyed much.

December 31st – A bit of a bug and a mountain of admin and accounts paperwork for work kept me home, but the weather wasn’t great. I slipped out at teatime, and sped along the darkened canal through Brownhills to Chasewater. 

There was no moonlight, and for once, Chasewater in the dark was uninspiring but not so the M6 Toll. For once quite busy, I waited for a gap in the traffic which bunches strangely.

I’m not keen on new year, to be honest; I dislike the forced jollity and felt quite down; but as ever, a ride on my cyclic antidepressant did the trick.