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Trying…
I had my first session with the 12 week exercise study at the University today. I get personal training three times a week, and they get my blood and body scans, sounds like a good swap. I chose the 6am slot because it’s is early enough that my brain isn’t working. I’m tricking myself into getting to the gym by making sure I’m too stupid to argue, and also because it’s summer, and I’m sweating enough working out in the cool morning.

I must remember to take one of those stupid little gym towels next time. There’s a few things I need to do to make things a bit more comfortable, number one on the list was ordering some padded bike pants, because 35mins on the bike has made me realize I need some cushioning in some areas, and some support in others.

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Underneath…
I’m looking at old photos of the farm, trying to locate where things where originally, and where they still might be under all the trees etc.

It’s also a lot easier to get a mental map of where to put things looking at pictures of the empty space.

There are definitely areas that need to be fairly seriously cleared out to allow room to actually work and create pleasant spaces.

All the gardens and out buildings are still there, they are just camouflaged at the moment. Slate walled goat houses have definitely got possibilities, they are incredibly solid and might make a great base for something like a studio, or greenhouse.

So much potential to get distracted by while trying to focus on the basics.
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Message in a Bottle…
I’m attempting a calming hobby, gardening in confined areas, terrariums mainly.

After managing keep a peace lily alive for over 6 months I’m feeling confident enough to read a few books about this subject.

This weekend I’m going to follow one of the recipes in this book and see how it goes.
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Swamp of Sadness…
I can’t see the forest for the trees, literally in the case of the farm. I attempted to take a look down by the creek today and it is more Mirkwood down there at the moment than the green pleasant banks I read books next to in my youth. If nothing else gets done this year I would like to see something happen about that. A waterway on your land should be an asset, not an overgrown marsh pulling unwary travelers to their doom.

Hopefully a few less trees might let in enough sunlight to dry things out. With some careful waterside cleaning the platypuses might even return. It’s currently the most depressing part of the property because it’s the part I have the best memories of. It was truly idilic in summer, a genuine babbling brook and dragonflies everywhere. It truly was wind in the willows kind of stuff, and there are still glimpses of it.

Over the next month or two I’ll alternate between risking life and limb with my chainsaw, and throwing some money at professional arborists to try and get it back to point that it was only 10 years ago, maybe I will appreciate autumn and winter this year as with so many deciduous trees I will be able to see areas that are currently to overgrown to get into. The current plan is taking the next 3 years to turn this into a self sustaining property generating a mostly passive income, and a weekend retreat. That should be enough time to find out if that’s possible, and enough time to make it an attractive prospect for somebody else to run if I decide to sell or lease it out.
Because I still don’t want to be a farmer, even a hobby one.
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A Bag of Concrete…
Is how much weight the doctor wants me to loose before June. That’s 20 kilograms for those 3 countries that don’t use modern measurements (actually only 2 since the UK knows what kilos are). Seems I have a chubby liver and it’s causing some grief, but nothing that can’t be turned around with “lifestyle changes”, which is doctor code for loose some weight and don’t drink.

This morning I briefly considered starting a relationship with a personal trainer in the hopes of them whipping me into shape, and the thought of dating someone has really motivated me to just take care of my own training. So 6am gym sessions 3 times a week, healthy food deliveries, and all alcohol donated to the needy. Seems the missing motivation puzzle piece was spending 72hrs focused on my own mortality, and while a fatty liver is far better than cancer, I’m really pushing my luck with the health thing.

The knowledge that I have done this before and gotten to quite an acceptable level of fitness is reassuring, and as long as I don’t get divorced and slip into a long period of chronic depression it should be fine.
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How do you eat an Elephant?
According to the old saying its one bite at a time. I’m trying to embrace that journey of a thousand miles begins with a single elephant sandwich mentality for the farm. I have got some of the first bites out of the way, scrap guy slowly doing his thing, and the goat guy dropping of an army of eating machines next week. I’ve sold off most of the farmhouse furniture, and the wood burning stoves. One of my cousins wants the stained glass so I’ll organize for them to come and collect those soon.
As you may have guessed I’m still in the tear things down stage, and probably will be for a few months. There is a lot to prune back, literally and metaphorically.
First big project is getting a water supply organized. The old tanks and systems where falling apart years ago, and six months without my fathers constant maintenance means they have totally failed. I’m now at youtube-eversity learning about water harvesting, tanks, pumps, and plumbing. Most of the stuff seems like common sense, and people have been getting water from the sky for quite a long time, so how hard can it be?

I did get a quote for a system and design done by a local water contractor, but it was expensive and illogical. He wanted to spend thousands on groundwork to put a large tank up the hill because then the house could have gravity water pressure. His plans involved so much extra piping and excavation to avoid a small inexpensive water pressure pump that I knew I needed to figure stuff out for myself. From what I can see so far his $30000 quote was about twice what I could get for a system twice the size and five times more practical… if I do say so myself.
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Long Weekend…
Pretty sure Friday was six weeks ago, I’ve certainly chewed through slightly more valium than usual. It really should be against some medical oath to tell a patient to make an appointment to “discuss” test results, and then bugger off for a week. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned my close personal relationship with catastrophizing to him.

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Not my First Rodeo…
Every year my father didn’t attend the local annual rodeo. Even though it was 500m down the road from the farm, and pretty much the only event on the village calendar. I feel like I should continue this fine family tradition by also not attending not attending this weekend.

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Standby Mode…
Do you ever just shut down for a bit? Sometimes when I’m just not up to dealing with things I just pull up the blinds to shield those around me from what’s going on inside.

Today was a shut down day. I took a book and my iPad and went to bed. I didn’t end up reading or watching anything, I just pulled a blanket over my head and used zero energy on anything, even my brain mercifully slowed right down for a few hours, which is unusual enough to celebrate. I’m now back to a point where I can put my functional human mask back on if needed, which is a level I have to maintain as the “grownup” in the house. I always seem to have just enough left in the tank to do the bare minimum of parenting even when everything is else is falling apart.

Luckily the kids are being fairly low maintenance at the moment, and the ex is having them at her house this weekend. So if I can’t shake this malaise it might just be a weekend of sitting around in standby mode, burning the least amount of energy possible, waiting for someone to plug me in, or switch me off.

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Hearts…
Unlucky in love? Nah, It’s more like cursed for all eternity by opening a tomb protected by ancient incantations and blood sacrifices. It’s like a black cat crossed my path as I was walking under a ladder smashing mirrors and spilling salt everywhere. I seem to have an uncanny ability to meet people that bring out the worst in me.

Or maybe I bring out the worst in them? Either way it’s exhausting, and I get less willing to do it all again each time. I’m also increasingly content with my own company most of the time, a good book is always better than a bad date. Perhaps I just ran out of romance at some point? My hopeless romantic heart took a hell of beating over the years, and I’m not sure it’s working anymore.

There is a chance I’m just tired and grumpy, but it’s been a while now and you do start to think this is who I am now. The hopeless romantic is now just hopeless, his romance tempered by time into something more practical, but also not able to accept settling just to avoid being alone. Humans are complicated and annoying most of time, I’d drop 20 IQ points gladly to be less aware of the complications.

Maybe I should just get a puppy…