Caste off, and sail away!

Oh, the relief of ridding myself of my plaster caste! At least that's the way it felt, at first, instant relief from the sticky, mankiness that had been irritating me for the last couple of weeks. In harsh reality I'd been able to use my wrist a fair bit before the caste came off. Once off my wrist was as week and feeble as imaginable, I wouldn't even risk trying to get on a bike. I even turned down getting a loan bike! There really was no way I was going to risk it so soon. Realising there was more work ahead did take away the edge of my excitement, but only a bit!

And of course, I wasn't going to be patient for long. A few days of painful exercise, forcing more movement out of my wrist, coincided with the delivery of a Suzuki 1200cc Bandit. A lot of people have commented favourably on it's looks and, assumed, powerful ride. They obviously don't know what my Triumph was like; it looked stylish, sounded great and had that peculiar quality, found in European motorcycles, character! In comparison the Suzuki looks bland, angular, boring. A potential 1200cc powerhouse, promising a superior ride? That all it is, full of promise and delivering little. Maybe I'm being harsh, though after a couple of months with no transport I'd have thought any bike would suffice: only with no other choice!

Mustn't grrrumble, I'm mobile now. Its enabled me to get out and about under my own steam, although my wrist is too week to hold the bike up properly, if really needed! So more exercise to the wrist and it can only get better. Anyone out there got any magic cures to increase mobility? Pretending there isn't a problem doesn't seem to work anymore; bugger, I've succumbed, I've become a mere mortal, vulnerable to the realities of life. No longer able to bury pain, whether physical or emotional, and continue, seemingly oblivious to the rigours of life. Of course, this is a portrayal of many people's lives.

Really it's just the stiff upper lip attitude, eh what old boy! And whatever is said, it can be a very useful character trait. Letting the pain control you is detrimental, feeling it doesn't need to be. You can, and need to, experience the pain to some extent. I can't be healthy to bury your head in the sand, neither is it to allow the pain to sweep you away. In whatever form it takes, the pain must be accepted as part of life, not the end of life! There is no point in allowing it to be your life, what a miserable existence that would be. But ignore it and the damage may never go away! At the end of the day, if you can still feel pain, you're still alive. So don't whinge about it, or be a martyr, accept it and keep living!

Recently I've opened up to families again, not a feeling I found comfortable when first coming home. It really seemed to heighten the grief already present. Seeing nice happy families when I had nothing, it sucked! Self pity is difficult to bear, maybe even harder to admit to yourself, and extremely difficult to pull yourself out of, especially when the circumstances don't change. I still feel sorry for myself, sorry I had to lose Cai, sorry to be alone; for sure, I wish I wasn't in the position I find myself in. But there isn't much I can do to change things, so the only thing to do is moving forward. So I've been spending time with more families, enjoying the buzz you can get from kids. Its opening up my heart again, it may be slow, but it is progress.

If I hadn't made that step forward I couldn't enjoy my nephews and niece, nor the hoards of kids I went camping with. So I owe thanks to all concerned for contributing to this shift forward. I'm aware these interactions do not have the depth of emotional experience I'd ultimately desire, but Rome wasn't built in a day. I still feel vulnerable, reluctant to open my heart, scared of loving and losing again. I hope this emotional journey is getting me somewhere, above all I hope to regain my full range of emotions, to again find the capacity to feel love without the associated fear.

Home, but where's the heart?

For some obscure reason it didn't really feel relaxing to get back home from Cyprus; it felt an instant drain on my emotional reserves, sucking away any enthusiasm to accomplish anything worthwhile. I felt trapped again, the only significance action was to reduce the asking price for my house. I want out, I want to rid myself of this place, allow myself a new start. My home is no longer my safe haven! Being at home is like voluntary imprisonment, incarcerating oneself to spite yourself. This doesn't mean I want to consciously punish myself, but knowing the effect its having on me, and still not doing anything about it, tends to force a masochistic cycle of emotional turmoil. I guess it isn't so much actively making myself suffer, it's really a matter of not being proactive in dealing with it, allowing it to continue. Awareness is one thing, doing something about it is easier said than done though!

Actually I should look at this more objectively: I've broken my frigging wrist, so I have no transport and walking too far seems to induce my arm to swell and throb in the caste. The use of my right arm is severely hampered, I am gradually increasing the things I can do, though become it's more frustrating the longer I have the caste on. I don't have any outlet for my frustration, which has compounded the negative emotions I've been dealing with anyway. Since Cai died I haven't really released any anger, can't say I've felt much either, but I've known its there. Not far below the surface there has been anger lurking, waiting for expression, release. I've dreaded the thought of being stopped by the police, due to their petty minded bigotry towards motorcyclists, I've severely doubted my ability to keep it all in check if subjected to such an affront. Miraculously whatever adverse situations I have been confronted with have seemed insignificant compared to losing Cai. I've not been looking for an excuse to vent the anger, merely wanting credible focus for it.

For many years I worked at the ever present anger that developed in my formative years, an anger created by the inherent injustice of our world. Much of my youth rebelling against any figure of authority, in particular a narrow minded, intolerant, bigot of a father. His attitude was there was something wrong with me, no matter how harsh he was over my misdemeanors I never learned. There again, if the only attention you get from someone is reprimands, the chances are you will seek that sort of attention; I did! My father told me, in my adulthood, if I hadn't been such a little shit, he wouldn't have needed to be so heavy handed with me. Oh dear, such a lack of awareness, so little understanding! At 14-15 yrs old I was suspended from school, for nothing more than putting a bright red Bowie streak, through my peroxide blond hair. I had little more than one foot in the school gate when the headmaster bellowed from his window, "Les Kay, get up to my office now." I was suspended immediately, I wasn't to be seen there until my hair was back to normal; and he was easier going than my old man! The streak had been put in for a party at my parents house, my mum was working away in London, my father's shift didn't finish until 10pm; so it had to be over before he got back home. It was, just about! Most people were making a move; once an ambulance had been called few wanted to be implicated in my comatose drunkenness. My father arrived as I was being loaded into the ambulance, I was not a popular person! He made my life as miserable as he could, done his utmost to put me down, to belittle me. At least by that age I was taller and better developed than the old git, physical retribution had become a thing of the past, just!

Not once did my father realise, his bull headed manner actually exacerbated the situation. I knew, from a fairly early age; the more shit or pressure I'm given the harder I'll dig in my heals. I understood that, while he never did, and still doesn't! I felt contempt for him rather than the respect he demanded, for me this is a fundamental difference between him and me, in raising a son; you gain respect by earning it, not demanding it! I don't begrudge my earlier life though, it gave me a better understanding of how not to form a close bond with a child. Having lost the chance to form such a relationship with my daughter, Renae, I determined to make up for it with Cai. Almost without exception I used my father as an example, I stood him on a pedestal, anything he may have done I did the opposite with Cai. It worked, it may have been hard, but the bond we formed made it all worthwhile. I made many mistakes, I had to fight against my own earlier conditioning, but when this came to the forefront I would identify it for what it was, explain it to Cai. It gave him an insight as to what I was fighting against, an appreciation of how much effort I put into safeguarding him from destructive behavior patterns. Funnily enough, Cai got suspended from school at fifteen, for having a bit of weed in his possession. He was mortified, it earned him cult hero status at school; he didn't want the attention. Both me and Gabe were happy for him to partake in a smoke of pot, as long as it didn't interfere with his school work! And yes, we did know he smoked pot before this instance! Better than joining the other youngsters at school, binge drinking, getting aggressive and throwing up. I was happy for him to indulge, he showed a remarkable amount of self restraint, he didn't get stoned during the school week, and kept it within reason most other times.

I've learned, with age, to show authority the respect it demands, in most instances. I couldn't face his headmaster and say "so what?" I had to dress Cai down a strip, impress the head with my attitude to pot smoking. Poor Cai tried to answer me back, I had to verbally slap him down, show I would not stand for such behavior. I did explain this after we left, he then realised I had acted in that manner to ensure the police weren't involved. I'd avoided our house being searched, maybe an official caution for him; therefore a blot on his record. He understood and we got three weeks together with no school. He finished the work he was given in the first week, then we enjoyed the rest of the time! Irresponsible? I don't think so; open and honest I call it! He didn't hide much from me, I knew what he was doing in most spheres of life. There was understanding and acceptance between us, I earned a great deal of respect from Cai, and he from me, it wasn't obtained by demanding it!

Photos show us both at 14-15 yrs, and again at 17 yrs old!

Cai ap Leslie 20/02/89 - 03/07/07

My beloved son, my best friend, my confidante - WHAT A WASTE!!

Words could never explain how empty and pointless life has become for me. A year has passed since the loss of Cai, it has been the longest year of my life. I've struggled on, without reason, just because I can/should. All I really want is to be reunited with him, but for some absurd reason that would be giving in.





Cai did indeed have the world at his fingertips, he attained the best grades in his year at college, an achievement he never got to celebrate. He could have studied what he wanted, easily got into medical school and become a doctor. He could have gone out into the world and made that difference he was so keen to make. He believed in chaos theory, how right he seems to be!!



A precious life thrown away because of some idiot's negligence in the preparation of his brand new motorcycle. A pox on that scum, I prey he knows it's him and it haunts him for the rest of his days: I know Cai would disagree! Though I feel my anger should be directed at those responsible, why should it be self consuming?


But today is the day to reflect on a more positive note, something I find so hard. Cai was an idealist, he believed in the good of everyone, believed we could all improve if given the right opportunities. Many of us could learn a lot by considering the views of this bright, sensitive young man. I hope I can prove him right, I hope I can adopt more of his ideals myself!

I know how much he is missed by so many, how much he influenced so many lives. Its rare for one so young to make such an impression, I'm proud to have been involved in his life, so proud of the person he became. He'll be sorely missed forever!

If anyone has ever deserved to be in a better place than our mortal existence I believe it's Cai. I hope there is indeed a better life after death, I hope Cai is to be found happy and beyond pain. I can only hope I will eventually rejoin him and once more bathe in his brilliance!

Karaoke King.....

Its been remiss of me to forget the followers of my blog, whilst my immediate journey may have come to a rest, the emotional one has a long way to go yet. The interest and support over the last twelve months has been a great help to me, in fact at times it was what gave me the strength to continue. For family and friends at home my return has meant a release from their long distant concern, but I've been both short sighted and self possessed. My consideration for everyone else was so much more acute while travelling, since coming home I've lost that, I've been too entrenched in my own immediate world. My apologies, I like to believe I'm a better person than that! I'll make more of an effort, as I would like to continue writing, and I really appreciate everyone who does read my blog.

I'm still in Cyprus and being treated to a wonderful time by my host! I'm not really one for quick two week visits to holiday resorts, but for this one I'm truly grateful. Ain't it nice to be looked after so well, without demands or expectations? breaking my wrist only a week before coming away would have made it a nightmare coping alone, luckily I haven't had to. I can't really cook, drive, clean up or do much else for myself, I can barely dress myself. So its with eternal gratitude I've been catered for, transported to the various beauty spots of the island, accompanied when-ever and where-ever I want, even left in peace as I desire.

Why do I make such a point of this to you all? Because I only know Sandra through my blog! Someone who thought I could do with a short break, hoping it would encourage me to write that book she knows I would like to keep making progress with. And so the poignancy of my appreciation of my blog readers becomes clear, I owe a lot to you all. There are still comments being made from total strangers which bring home how helpful my writing is for some. It feels so good to realise, anew, how useful it can be for others suffering bereavement, to feel they are not alone. I know it has helped me so much, so often. You know such people understand how you feel, they may make judgements on the levels of grief felt, depending on the relationship of those lost; but any loved one lost is torturous!

Another important marker approaches, the anniversary of Cai's death! How I can even refer to it as an anniversary is beyond me; aren't they dates for celebration? Again for this important date I've chosen to be away from home, I've chosen to distance myself from the place we shared so much of his life. It was our sanctuary, our safe haven, our place of happiness. Small wonder I can barely stand to be there, no surprise I know I must move out, move on, to find a new life! Every day the temptation to run away hounds me, it isn't any solution now. It still represents my main stumbling block, I must sort it out before starting afresh! Its fine finding distractions, but they don't get you over the loss; they merely take your thoughts away from the pain. I still believe the only way to overcome this, in the long run, is to face it, challenge it full on and work through it. But I must beware my whole life is not lost in doing so, that is the danger!

Unlike me, I haven't been able to just lay in the sun for hours. Within a fairly short time my wrist and hand swell, the pressure inside the caste gets uncomfortable and I have to sit indoors, with the air con, to cool down. Of course there are quicker ways to achieve this, like holding my arm close to the air con unit and allowing a cool through draft. This has also meant restrictions on driving around, again it induces swelling and discomfort. We have been out a bit, but no luxuriating on golden beaches, no jumping in the water, no swimming and no potentially dangerous activities. The silver lining, as there is to most things, I've sat down and started writing again, which has put me back in touch with myself more.

Last weekend we got invited to a party on the little estate where we're staying. The resident ex-pats were really nice people, the evening was great fun and I sang karaoke for my first time, "King of the Road." Despite being really nervous about it, it went surprisingly well, by the end I'd settled down and actually enjoyed it. I enjoyed the company, which made me feel a bit unkind in my criticism of ex-patriots, it doesn't make it less true, maybe unfair to only point out the negative aspects of people. Without exception they were friendly, generous, hospitable folk who went out of their way to include us and entertain us. It was a pleasure to to spend the night with them all, I didn't get to bed until 5 am and I was really hammered.

Goodbye golden dream machine!

So much, yet so little, has happened in the last couple of months. In many ways it seems life has not progressed at all; my ability to cope has improved massively, yet I often feel as bereaved as ever. At these times the severity and suddenness of grief is overwhelming. A couple of weeks ago I was poleaxed, without forethought or warning, brought to my knees by wracking tears, fighting to maintain a grip on my sanity. And I kid you not, I thought I'd moved past such uncontrollable emotions, it really took me by surprise. The funny thing is, I don't feel I want to lose that sense of loss, whether or not I acknowledge the need to move on. I don't want to lose the rest of my life to such harrowing grief, but nor do I want to forsake the myriad thoughts and memories of Cai. I want to turn those thoughts and memories into smiles and lovely feelings for the wonderful times I got to share with Cai.

The presentation of my slide show went extremely well, so well in fact I found it hard to accept the praise heaped upon me. For me it was important to systematically relive my journey, but only the physical aspect of it. I'm not sure it makes sense, there was a need to separate the physical and emotional aspects. While travelling everything was wrapped up in an emotional quagmire, emotions dictated where, when and how everything occurred. Since returning home I've been unable to recount the physical journey without being embroiled in the emotions again. I needed to rectify this, I wanted to share the many wonderful photos, the experience untainted by grief. It done it for me, it seemed to for those attending. So thank you for coming, it was a pleasure for me, very therapeutic!

Despite my Kawasaki being home I haven't managed to get it registered for the UK yet, a combination of me being lethargic and over zealous jobs worthies in the vehicle inspectorate. It would have been lovely for people to have seen it parked outside for my presentation, legalities wouldn't allow though, I didn't want to risk running foul of the law really. As it turned out it was good everyone got to see my Triumph before I wrote it off! Yes, my lovely yellow peril has bitten the dust! It came off so much worse than me, I only have a broken wrist, the triumph is not looking good. A council van swept in from the side of the dual carriageway forcing me into the central barrier, ouch! So, at least six weeks in plaster caste and an enormous amount of frustration at not being able to do anything. Oh well, I guess I won't have to go through the process of selling it now! that is of little consolation. Hopefully by the time I get my caste off the kwacker will be registered, then let the fun begin.

Do I sound complacent about being involved in yet another accident? I've lost my son, done in my knee and now broken my wrist; all due to motorcycle accidents! The common question has been, "don't you think there's a lesson in there?" There may well be for some, I have more resilience though. A crucial question for any accident involving more than vehicle is, "who's fault was it?" Honesty here is vital, if you are not honest you're travelling down the road to certain extinction, especially being a bike rider. There are safe parameters when riding, this doesn't mean nothing can happen, you can never guarantee that. Optimised, these give you the best chance of survival, minimised and you're constantly exposed to serious injury. There are many levels in between these two extremes. I know I have a reckless nature, but I try to keep this within safe margins when riding. I can't always predict what another road user is going to do, as I'm more at risk I try very hard to make allowances for the most incompetent reaction from other drivers. At times I can be slightly more lax, but that doesn't mean I have caused the accident, my only fault being I didn't predict and act according to avoid it.

Disabled or not, I've decided to accept a very kind offer to come away on holiday to Cyprus. A fortnight to kick back and relax, which is good as I can't do a lot more. We're lucky really, our villa is in a very quiet part of the north island. We may well be within a small estate of British ex-pats, luckily most villas have yet to be moved onto and they have all been finished. Driving around the coast there are many areas of really gross development, another victim of massive expansion of rich Europeans taking advantage of cheap accommodation to invest in. As is so often the case, it is fast becoming a little Britain, they rarely integrate or adopt the local language. So the Turk Cypriots who learn English benefit immensely, they get more than their fair share of trade. How long before the local populace realise their culture is being lost to the influx of foreign nationals? How much of their beautiful island has to be lost to foreign money before they realise the environmental devastation.

I must be fair, it isn't just Brits, there is a general exodus from Europe into poorer, less developed countries. It is just happening at a phenomenal rate here, Thailand is the only other
place I've seen it on such a massive level. Both these places sport continuous blocks of newly developing accommodation to satisfy the craving of foreigners. Both seem oblivious to the effect on the general populace, it isn't the normal every day people who benefit here, they're priced out the market. They don't even get much of the work supposedly brought into the country, ex-pats do like sticking together!

A long way down, but digging in the heels!

Compared with the journey I've just made, being home has proved more effective in beating me down and keeping me there. My emotions have plummeted, there has been no enthusiasm for life, or sense of purpose. I've been sucked into the quagmire where, with a gallant effort, I'm trying my damnedest to keep my head above the surface. Why I bother is beyond my comprehension; but I will not just curl up and let my spirit die. Believe me, I feel like doing just that, but still something inside refuses to give up. I don't want to drift into an empty, thankless life; I don't want to fade into obscurity, another victim of Cai's accident. I'm very much in the here and now, which explains the disparity of emotions, I believe in moving on, though without Cai....

A day can pass without me even realising it! If I allow it the months would fly by with me in emotional torpor. Being aware of impending financial pressure does not worry me unduly, I just don't give a damn! For days on end I've lazed around, not wanting to do anything, achieving nothing and caring even less. This is another aspect of grieving, something else to contend with on the road to healing. Never a willing participant in life's boring, mundane demands, it is these that leave me wanting to cop out. I still have my moments of unadulterated tears, but those I can handle, it's the hum-drum nature of everyday life that I can't be bothered about. I just want to sell the house and caste off into a new life!

One thing I have learnt while travelling the Americas was acceptance, there is no point in denial, you have to face your shit eventually. Which is why it was time to come home! It's also wise to recognise things you have no control over, issues you can do nothing about. It's no good beating yourself up over things you can't change, save the effort for what you can effect. And so I find myself not feeling bad over issues of Cai's death, yet dissatisfied due to my lack of motivation. Distractions are the best I can hope for right now; even if it only means a few hours working in the garden, that's an achievement. Things are getting organised, I am improving my property to sell, I'm exercising regularly and looking after my health. Hey, I've even earned some money! I've built a lovely fence and been flashing my bits at artists, so I'm not a total sluggard.

It's touching to see the people who's thoughts and feelings are with me, even the well wishes of strangers around the village are consoling. The involuntary cringing at the sight of casual acquaintances has diminished, gone are the feelings of awkwardness. I'm happy to excuse myself, if that's the way I feel. I guess I'm slightly in danger of being contented in my head space, it's copable with, but there is still so far to go. I've a strong need to talk about Cai with people, not avoid the subject, that's as if Cai never existed. I can't handle the feeling that people are worried about upsetting me, afraid to broach a sensitive subject and cause me grief. HELLO!! Cai dying was the greatest loss of my life, why would I not want to share memories of him? I need to integrate his memories into my new life, which is the only way forward. How long this process of grieving goes on for is any one's guess, I don't concern myself with such questions, just get up in the morning and face the day! And hey, the sun's out, the countryside is beautiful and I've now got two bikes to ride.

Yep, the beast has arrived home! My bike has finally reached me in North Wales, it's only taken since mid-February, nearly three months. It was with great excitement that I laid into the packing crate, so much so the driver got well away and left me to it. Mind you, he nearly put a hole into his own roof in his enthusiasm to wreck the remaining crate. It only took one push of the button, once I disengaged the kill switch, for the bike to start; believe me, that put a smile on my face! So how nice is it to have my tried and tested, dirty beast back? It feels weird after thrashing the pants off my lean, mean, racing machine. Hmmm, I pulled back the throttle and nothing seemed to happen!

Since arriving home the desire to get writing again has been put off, lethargy has got the better of me, which I must be honest about. It's therapy for me, it helps, and yet the words have eluded me. There again, I must be honest with myself; I have not had the enthusiasm to sit down and allow it to flow. The main excuse has been the absence of my hand written personal journal (did you really think I would tell you everything?), not any more, it arrived safely with the bike today! So there we go, no more excuses, the only thing to stop me now is my own strength and determination. I'm not stupid enough to claim there is no way except up, but up is the direction I'm looking in now. I know many have been waiting, wondering what comes next, concerned for my welfare, or eagerly awaiting the next episode of..........(Oops, started building up for a very dramatic ending there, but my heart isn't quite in it yet!)I haven't gone to ground, you don't get rid of me that easy, I'm just taking my own sweet time.

LAND OF DREAMS
A slide show and description of my journey is to be shown:

6.00 pm - Thursday 22nd May

Y Caban,
Brynrefail,
Nr Llanberis

Should I go or should I stay....

Fact: the passage of time invariably seems to pass much quicker the older we get. The theory behind this concerns our heart rate; the slower the rate at which our hearts beat, the faster our perception of time's passage. When we're young our hearts beat faster, time drags. Getting older the heart slows down, there is more time between heart beats, our perception is that time goes quicker. Bearing this in mind, I can only expect time to be moving at a fair rate. Maybe this is the method by which my future will be dictated. Me lacking motivation, getting little done, living in a daze and weeks passing whilst I loiter ineffectively.

This isn't the way I want my life to continue, I need to feel more productive, a benefit to the society around me in some way. Yet I can't be arsed at all! I know such feelings are inevitable, I know I must work through them. BUT WHY? What is the point? For many of us the point of existence lays in those we love, to provide for and protect them. I can understand that, it's a delight to see loving parents doing the most for their kids, watching them grow and develope into individuals. Parenthood isn't for us all, positive parenting for fewer. For some of us it becomes the most important aspect of our lives! I think we're the lucky ones, we do it for love and respect, not just for duty.

What happens when we are torn apart from those loved ones? Where can we find a place for that love? How can that void be filled? How do we apply ourselves to a life without reason? The list of questions is infinite, I have no answers though! Life will never be the same again, should I therefore create change where-ever possible, to help the natural process? I've long believed all life is transient, we should accept change, even welcome it. The pieces to this particular puzzle no longer fit together, they should do, when you look at it philosophically. What a shame emotions and the intellect are at such odds, what a shame mending a broken heart isn't as easy as willing it better! Things don't happen over night, sorry Jean Luc I can't make it so. I wish I could, I wish I could start filling that void, finding some purpose for my future. Maybe a purpose for each individual day would be a good start, even one occurrence that brought a heartfelt smile to my face, warmth into my heart; wouldn't that be nice?

Riding my bike has been the essence of my life for the last seven months, my daily therapy. I wasn't going to wait six weeks to ride a bike again, it may well be cold, wet and miserable, but I wanted to be straddled over a bike. So I got myself a sexy beast. It started by looking at sleek race machines, with plenty of grunt. Then Triumph Daytona's got my attention, and I found this wee beauty. I guess it came down to the matter of style, I'm afraid to say the new Triumphs and Italian bikes have it, Japanese bikes don't. Race machines aren't my usual style though, I've never had a modern one before and never one with this amount of power. Never before have I owned a machine that made me wonder the G-force under acceleration. Change, that's what it was about! I wanted something different, I wanted a bike to put a huge grin on my face, I wanted to scare and excite myself, both at the same time. That was the theory anyway; in reality it didn't scare the pants off me, it didn't have me whooping with delight. It's pleasant to ride, the acceleration is pretty awesome, big deal!

It's not as if I'm sat doing naff all, though taking a couple of weeks to motivate myself, I have starting getting fit again. A means to an end! Rigorous exercise creates endorphins, they improve our feel good factor, enough said! It may not be much to start with, but it is a start, and it feels significant to me. There again, anything we know is good for us, yet takes a determined effort to initiate, is constructive and should leave us feeling we've achieved something positive. It certainly beats sitting at home in the doldrums! It is surprising how easy it is for the days to slip away, I spend half of them in a daze, and they're the good ones. Some start bad and just carry on like that, the whole day. It becomes tedious, no thoughts take away the tears, no words dull the pain, no-one can make it feel better for me. Sounds a load of self pitying bollocks really, but this is life, at least my life, at present.

Riding or walking I can't help noticing the lovely views which surround my home environment. This is an essential part of what has kept me living in North Wales for so long, the countryside is beautiful! It only take a few minutes walking before being able to stand and gaze at the mountains, the coast, Penrhyn castle, wooded hillsides and green fields; all from the same spot. Little wonder I need to travel to such lengths, to improve on it. Few places are more beautiful, but this is a small part of a small world. I feel exposed walking around, everyone knows me, knows what happened, pities me. I've found myself walking hunkered down into my collar, head down, shoulders slumped. This isn't the me I know, nor the person I want to be. I'm used to being there, in the present, head held high, confident, striding along. Hmmm, what was that about the transience of life? We can't stop change, but we can steer it, surely!