My eyes grow weaker with the passing of the years and yet somehow I find beauty in the smallest of things where once I raced by. The voice that once boomed has grown less insistent, my ears better at listening, I learnt to recognise the fool & the sage Wise enough now to see them … More Growing Older
Saturday morning and even before six am the sun streams over the rooftops of North London and through my bedroom windows. Despite my ailing body, arthritic – worn out & decrepit telling me all is not well the sunlight streaming through the glass sings a different song. The absurdity of these last few mornings – … More Up above the chimney pots
Welcome to another thrilling instalment of Martin’s arthritis diaries. Well it’s been an illuminating week, a visit to the hospital has brought news which I was not expecting, I require a new hip, apparently one of the two that I came with is what is colloquially known in the trade as totally fuc*ed. Also an operation on … More Hippy Shit.
Tuesday morning eight a.m. & I creak the twenty steps to the bathroom for morning ablutions, my stick aids my faltering steps, knees and ankles remind me if I needed the prompt that my rheumatoid arthritis didn’t disappear by magic overnight. Business completed I open the skylight and poke my head out of the window, … More Starling
The days and the months are racing by and though I feel their passing my arthritis has this habit of subsuming any notion of time turning day after day into a Groundhog Day kind of repetition. My daily task more often than not just trying to cope with the pain in my joints and get … More Plan B Thursday.
Count your blessings, that’s what a person needs to do? One of the unexpected benefits of suffering with Rheumatoid Arthritis is that I am convinced that I’ve had so many x-rays that I will soon not need to switch on the lights at night in the house as my body will begin to glow in … More R.A. Diary – Blessed
I wake on Friday morning at five something, tune in to the BBC World service for the news, there’s something in my head that makes me feel just a little connected to the World I’m in if I listen to it without actually being out there and involved. Unfortunately there have been kidnappings in Nigeria, … More M.A.D.
“He couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag” was a once relatively common phrase in English used to describe an individual incapable of even the simplest of tasks, this term now fades into quaint obscurity as neither penny chews nor fruit and vegetables are crammed into little brown paper bags by ageing corner … More MAD – Martin’s Arthritis Diary
Saturday night London, what will it hold this City of more than seven million souls on this first evening of reimposed lockdown? Taxi’s here shouts Sam, I am the last out of the house & into the taxi, it’s a nine mile journey from a North London house into Town, we are all in masks … More Satnite
The Spaniards who first colonised these islands in the 15th Century were so enamoured with their discovery that they named them The Fortunate Islands … More The Calima
The real boss of the house comes to introduce himself. Cesare, the Cat, a beast of truly epic proportions. … More The House of the Fat Cat
The first time I remember seeing padlocks on a bridge was in Paris, on the Pont Des Arts, which straddles the Seine close by Notre Dame. When I got there I was amazed, this bridge was covered in thousands and thousands of padlocks. … More Love Locks
As one of my favourite F words* Friday has to be up there in the top ten, this no doubt stems from the idea of it being the end of the working week – the point at which one relaxes after five days of labouring away, though of course I’ve not worked a proper week … More F is for Friday
Welcome once again to a missive from the rooftop garret of Martin, aged 57 3/4, rheumatoid arthritis warrior. To begin with I should say that today didn’t start well, I woke at an ungodly hour from a bad dream. This one featured the Big Ex*. Now this is a rarity, I do dream about women … More Monday Missive M.A.D.