Alnmouth Beach

At Alnmouth Beach again. Another lovely sunny morning with the tide in, a few people jogging or walking dogs. A host of sea birds are dive bombing the fish at the mouth of the Aln and the waves are breaking gently on the beach as a light breeze riffles through the grass growing on the sandy shoreline.
It's a beautiful and serene view which makes one realise just how lucky I am to live so close to such a lovely spot. I think when I die I would like to be cremated and have my ashes scattered down here so that my ghost can enjoy this place for eternity.

57 years 10 months 21 days.

I have wasted 57 years and 10 months and 21 days worrying and pretending to be happy and now it's time to get my shit together, as the saying goes.
I'm feeling introspective after the last living link to my old life passed away and now the time has come to stop harking back to a golden age which if it existed at all, didn't exist for very long periods and look forwards. I realise that the answer to my future Happiness and Fulfilment doesn't lie in the past. Although I have no idea yet what that answer is I'm looking and I will find it.
So, where do I go from here? You ask, or actually I ask but never mind. Where is the path? Am I on it and who will be on it with me? At the moment I'm mostly travelling alone and will continue to do so until I'm not if that makes sense. I will plough my own furrow and if someone comes along to help handle the horses all well and good. If not, then alone I will plough.
The first and main things to solve are 'trigger' issues. I need to neutralise the elements in my life that lead to downturns in my mood and are obstacles to my move towards said H and F. I mostly know what they are, I've just never had the mental strength to address them. Stuff lack of mental strength, I will be doing said addressing forthwith.
I will not give importance to things that are not important and stop worrying about every little thing.
I will deal with what I can deal with and let anything I can't deal with sort itself out.
I will remain open and welcoming to anyone who wants to be my friend and ignore negative or unfriendly people.
I will continue with my nocturnal lifestyle until it peters out, or if it doesn't until I do, peter out that is.
I will start taking a morning stroll, weather permitting and enjoy the beauty of the countryside around me.
I have and will continue to cut down on my alcohol consumption and try to keep the smoking down to a dull roar.
I will write more; on here, in poems and short stories.
I will continue to read books and to finish the one I've been writing for the past 6 years.
I will live my life without fear of what others think of me and above all I will be open to new friends and ideas whilst remaining open to old friends and acquaintances who want to join me on the road to H and F.
I think that about covers it for now.
Love and Peace, ttfn x.

A cat died today

A cat died today. 

Not just any cat; Thomas, the cat who had been with me for more than 12 years. He came into my life along with his sister, Abbey around 2004 from the Cats Protection League. My now former wife Karen and I adopted the pair of them and they remained with me when Karen went back to the USA in 2012. Abbey passed away in 2014 leaving just Thomas and me from our little family. Now Thomas is gone and I am sad.

 He was such good company and I will ever be able to replace him. He was the last link to some happy times and memories and was part of some new ones following my move to Broomhill.

I guess all I can do now is remember the good times and keep moving on. There is no point in looking back and wishing things had been different. We are where we are, or more correctly, I am where I am and will have to get on with it.

Thankfully since I'm retired I don't have to worry about going to work if I feel down, I can stay home and be sad if I need to and can be free to go where I like to cheer myself up. Alnmouth Beach better look out!

I suppose some people reading this will thing that I'm a soppy old git, well that is their prerogative. Thomas was a special little guy and I will miss him and all that he represented. 

Writing can be hard, can't it?

I've been thinking with little success about writing a short story. The process brought the poem below to mind:

The Short Story

Who, what, where, when, why?

The writer sits, there's a story to be written

But the ideas won't come.

The canvas is blank, both page and brain.

The characters hide from the writer. They sit

And languish in the subconscious. Waiting to be freed

To move from mind to sheet. The ink in the pen

Waits to be used to bring life to

People who don't exist. Yet. But will soon.

Maybe the short story should be about a poet struggling to write a poem, now there's a thought.

Here's the thing.

I've been to a funeral today (which always makes me feel introspective). It was for an old friend from my home village and I brought me to the conclusion that although on the surface I appear to be generally content with my situation in life there is still a deep-seated sadness within me that I need to exorcise.
I like living where I do just now and am fairly satisfied with life since I retired so I'm not sure what the issue is. Perhaps I need to examine my inner self (for want of a better expression) in order to identify the problem and deal with it. I certainly have the time so why not? The only question is; how?

Hoping

Hoping

Living second to second

Minute to minute

Hour to hour

Day to day.

What has gone is gone

What is to come

Is not here yet.

Living in the moment

Trying to enjoy each instant

And hoping for the best

The EU Referendum

I thought I should write a few words about what was probably the most momentous vote in British history. But I can't.