I do not intend to promise a full return to normal blogging levels as of now, because I'd hate to set myself up to fail. I do have some ideas - quite a lot of ideas that I had hoped to share with you all. I would like to think that I can now start to poke my head over the parapet at a more manageable level of regularity.

Be well blogland. I think I still love you.

All I can say here is that there were reasons. There always are. They were the same reasons when three years later I again cried and cried. We were home after a long trip away and I was unwell. Instead of just going to bed and dealing with it - I sat on the toilet and cried loudly. This was the first time since the last time I spoke of. I didn't cry often in a load and attention grabbing way. I was going full bore - deep guttural screams and cries from a child who was in despair. Once again, finally, the warmth came - like an angel to console me. I crept through to my bedroom and enjoyed the virus more conventionally from then onwards.

On both these occasions it was as if all the sadness of all the years ran right through me. I cried inconsolably, as if the world would end if I stopped crying. I also cried in the hope my parents would see what was wrong and set it right. As it was, well... that was not going to happen. I felt so dirty, like it was all my fault as well - I had wanted to let it all out in one massive sorrowful and regretful cry. Maybe God would hear me and forgive me, at least. I knew I was not fit to be the Christian I was told I had to be.

I think of him often these days - that sad and frightened little boy. It's not difficult, because he still lives deep inside me. Still sad - still scared of what the world might do to him. Scared to truly exercise his power lest he lose those he loves, or who he thinks he loves. Unsure of what love truly means, because those who say they love him the most, do him the worst harm.

Now, all that is gone now. My sick and unstable family unit has been shut down for good, but somehow the damage remains for us all. We try to see each other sometimes and be polite - try to show we care, and we do... It just never really works out. I probably sound like I am all grounded and sorted now - that I have worked through my demons. I tell you the truth, if anyone with big issues truly looks inside themselves and tries to sort things out, all it does for a very long time is make things worse. The lid is taken off the raging furnace and we glance down as our eyebrows are singed clean off. Shut down? As a unit maybe, but the memories remain. The feeling of being misdirected, cheated and interfered with never quite goes away.

I watched Ashes to Ashes today - 3 episodes. All set in the 1980s. My time. The time when I was young and when I had options. A time when I could have prevented the worst things that happened in my life. I could have waited before getting married - avoided my first big life hurdle. Who knows what else might have changed then?

Then I realised how stupid such talk is - and it is as stupid for you as it is for me. We cannot change ourselves by changing events. The cast of characters might have been different, but we would have affected them and they us in similar ways. What really counts is what we do NOW. This is our big chance. It is never all lost - never all bleak. Goodness, the memories hurt and the strains tell, but right now we can actually tinker with history, even if it is just a little bit. As soon as now passes, our chance is gone.

For myself, I can go back in my mind to 1970 and hear myself crying those awful tears. I never realised this before but someone /can/ hear them - echoing through the years. Me. Again in 1973, I can hear them again, just as clearly. I can listen to what my own younger self is trying so desperately to tell me and yes, I can offer him some comfort. In my wildest dreams, I would like to believe that the beautiful warmth I felt back then was me eventually realising my own needs and taking steps to meet them. Caring for myself at last.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, apart from this being a blog, and it's kinda my call how emotionally indulgent I am, there is a more altruistic reason. Is there a message you left yourself in your own memories? What did you do, what happened? What can you do now to meet the needs of your own frightened youngster. They may need your help. Maybe then your memories will subtly change and you, too, with have a memory of a beautiful warmth coming to you at your bleakest moments.

Either that, or you missed the start of your favourite program through reading this. Sorry.

The last three weeks have been a time of heaven - of haven - for me. It has been a time of hope, of healing and of self discovery. An important time on every level I can think of, and probably every level that I can't. It's like the scales have fallen from my eyes and I have finally seen something that I should have seen years ago. Many years ago.

In short, it has been fantastic - I would struggle to conjure up sufficient superlatives to fully satisfy the feeling in my heart - either for the wonderfulness of her being here, or for the devastatingness of her being gone. My spell checker tells me that there is no such word as ”devastatingness“ - well, there should be, and there is now. It's as if my happiness is encased in a massive chunk of ice in front of me. I can see it, and observe it in almost every way - I just can't touch it and properly engage with it again.

I'm wearing my comfort shirt today, but it is not working. Maybe I'm spelling it wrong. Here, let me try again:

”chert“

...well, nearly.

From empty streets when entering the dentists to these lively flurries moments later.

I never fail to be in awe of the weather, and it's ability to totally change a scene in minutes. Not just the looks, but also the danger level.

I have to return to the dentists at 5pm. Mmmm.... Might leave some time to clear the car.

Maybe all this is special to me because I am rarely out these days.

Happy snow, everyone.

It brought back memories of early childhood tea-time's - Sunday evenings and one very naughty Monday morning. Smashing.

Thank you Carnation - and thank you to hat we used to lovingly call “Evap”. I just /know/ that if I had to explain it to someone who knew not of it, I would gross them out.

Food really does bring back memories...very vividly.

I make this post in order to state the blindingly obvious - so obvious is it that you may well groan - but I say it because the reality of it is what has become true to me over the past few weeks.

It is simply this - when one is on one's own, noting happens unless one, one's-self, does it.

Obvious, yes?

Yet I wonder... how many husbands are used to quietly taking credit for a house presented by their wives. How many spouse's quietly take credit for a meal cooked by their opposite number. It is the “family unit” that takes the plaudits. When that family unit is just one - and the one is a woman, a fairly high standard of cleanliness and tidiness is assumed. When that one is a man - no matter how hard he tries, he is judged by how different it is to how a woman might keep hers. I have even heard it said that this place now lacks “a woman's touch”. Frankly, I resent that - because I'm practically gay, apart from the sexuality thing.

I know exactly what I want to do with the place - I am just too poor and too darned lazy to do it. These are the real facts. Nothing happens unless I make it happen. No washing is done, no pots are cleaned, no surfaces are wiped.

I may never rise to “He keeps his place nice!” - but I am becoming aware that “He hasn't let it slide too bad...” is just about on the cards.

I shall get used to it eventually.

I never made it down to Jac's for Christmas Day festivities. So sad. I just could not drive today - didn't make it down the stairs even. I took extra pain killers to get me through the night and they rendered me unfit in a driving kind of a way.

I had a nice Christmas meal with someone strangely familiar - and then another Christmas meal with my colleagues from the Arts Forum Committee. I feel so guilty going out with these people - they work tirelessly for the AF and I do all but nothing, whilst arguably having the most time on my hands. I guess that is the sad irony of depression.

Today has ended up as strange a Christmas as I have ever had. Spent, in most part, completely on my own. Many thanks to Jason for supplying me with a Christmas dinner fit for a King - or someone very important indeed - maybe Simon Cowel or something.

Here's hoping you had a special time and I wish you every good thing over these Christmas Holidays. Me? Oh, I am interested to see what I'll do in 2009.

Here's how to get the great British buffet aftertaste without the expense

...without the party.

We all love the feeling of having been at a wonderful British buffet over the Christmas period. They're wonderful, aren't they? Well, without going to all the expense of either driving to one - or, let's face it, managing to get invited to one.

OK, so here's how.

As pictures - get pickled onions, peanuts and cheese.

1) Take a bite of onion
2) Take a bit of cheese
3) Grab some nuts and “sprinkle” them into your mouth
4) Chew and subsequently swallow

Now then - now, and only now...can you taste it? Close your eyes, imagine it - YES you're at a fairly poor church or youth club organised party, aren't you? Man. Takes me back.

If you don't like onions - try substituting pineapple chunks. Works just as well.

This tip brought to you by Andy®

Thinking about it - I do know some great people. I will not be making much of a show of Christmas this year, but I do, nonetheless, wish everyone a great holiday time - and I look forward heartily to the celebrations I shall be enjoying. Seeing as this is my first Christmas away from Liz - it will be a little muted, but that is only right and fitting.

The only thought I would proffer - in terms of advice this Christmas - is “Try to remember that Christmas is far more about people than it is about things.”

You can have what you think of as your best ever Christmas with a can of beans and four slices of bread. Heck, that kind of paucity makes a time like Christmas unbelievably good. How many times have you had such wonderful presents for people that you were convinced they would bring happiness - only to be surprised and somewhat crestfallen when the gifts were received with only moderate approval? Have you ever laid on a tremendous banquet for your visitors - only to be let down that the night was not a success? I have. I often try too hard at entertaining - over-provide food, embarrass people with too much “stuff” of all kinds.

When things truly succeed is when my heart is in the right place - when I am not in a state - when I can welcome people with a real genuine smile.

So - what's your best piece of Christmas advice for us all to relish?

Music has a way of lifting my spirits lile nothing else can. I welcome that a lot. Plus it gives me a chance to post something here. Usually, little happens to me these days.

I don't rate my chances of making it to church in the morning...

[With grateful thanks to "Within the Crainium"]

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Customer: I have problems printing in red.
Tech support: Do you have a color printer?
Customer: Aaaah... thank you.

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Customer: My keyboard is not working anymore.

The simple answer is that I don't remember what they mean either. I did know at one time, but I have forgotten. I'm pretty sure it was a cynical thing - and that they may stand for happiness or some such. The truth is that I have been more depressed in recent months than ever before.

No doubt you have noticed- those of you that know me - that it has been hard to get through to me on the phone, or to get through to me using any method. Even talking directly to my face wasn't always a guarantee of success.

I am happy to report that certainly the worst of it is now over. I feel the life returning into my brain, the heavy cloud lifting a little. I see little chinks of light here and there. It's quite a relief to see that the world is not as my brain was telling me. I bet many of you have dealt with depression in some form or other, so you'll know what I mean. I have to say that it shocked me. I am so used to being able to raise myself and put on a decent front in public. It took this bout of depression to demonstrate to me that sometimes it is impossible to show a cheerful face to the world. Sometimes one is so crushed by a feeling that nothing is possible. Nothing at all. It's been a salutory lesson for me - and one that enables me to understand depression a great deal better, and those of us who suffer it - for I must now count myself amongst that number.

In other news...

I had a birthday. I'm not entirely sure how old I am now, but Liz sometimes reminds me - more out of fun than anything else because I think she knows I will forget almost immediately.

Jason brought me this delightful cake, which I ate almost immediately - chocolates first, of course.

I also received a most amazing present from jason - my very own Ukulele. I am amazed and delighted by this wonderful present. It is, without doubt, the most delightful and sonorous Uke I have ever had the pleasure of owning.

It's a real joy to play and the sound is crisp, offering lots of rich sustain to every note - quite rare in all but the most expensive Ukes. In short, I am bowled over by this expansive gift, and I promise to practice the Uke fairly hard for quite a while as my way of showing how grateful I am. Thank you Jason.

In other gratitude...

My wonderful friends who have graciously given me the space I needed to get through this - yet made it abundantly clear they were there for me at any time. I love you people so much, and I count myself very fortunate to have such sensitive and caring friends.

Massive gratitude to my band “Soul Doubt”. There have been two or three gigs over this period and my leg pain situation has been more pronounced of late, making carrying gear all but impossible - especially whilst walking with a stick most times now. Those guys have helped me so well - they made it possible for me to play gigs that otherwise would have been completely beyond me. Words cannot express my gratitude.

I think I'll leave it there. I'll write some more soon.

I've always had a side of me that needs to be public. Right now, that side has deserted me, so I am forcing myself to do this. Big stuff is happening in my life - challenging stuff, on all fronts. Here's what those things are:

1) Health - I'm quite worried. I'm experiencing significant difficulties right now with my leg condition. Probably worse than I have led you to believe. I don't really want to say more than that - except, perhaps, that it has become a big challenge right now.

2) Mental State - I'm more concerned than I have ever been about this. I apologise publicly to all who feel I am shunning them and locking myself away. No, you're not imagining it - I really am doing this. It's not to do with me not liking you any more. It's to do with me being really depressed and going inside myself. At present, the thought of meeting up with anyone, or even going out is a matter of considerable stress. This has big implications, and I need to find a way round it. Regrettably, there are only a very few people I can spend time with right now. Please don't take it personally, I beg you. I will come through this in a little while, I know I will.

3) Divorce - Divorce is never a small issue, and I have had a double dose of it in short order. Arguably, I never properly got over my first divorce before marrying and subsequently being divorced from Liz. I have two pieces of paper that say I am divorced from these people, yet I still care for both, even though I am not in touch with Fiona at all now. Make not mistake - divorce messes with ones head, it is not good. It affects one comprehensively, and rocks everything.

4) Living Alone - I have to figure out how to do this. I have been fortunate in having wives who handled the stuff I struggle with. Being number-phobic is not as funny as some think. Sure, it is funny to laugh at me weeping because I can't handle thinking too much about numbers, but there is a serious side as well. This is just one of the challenges that living alone throws up. The other is managing to have enough money to do it. Another might be physically managing to do all the jobs required. The list gets quite long.

5) There is no five - because I do worry about being lonely. I discover I am just fine on my own and I am not craving companionship. Maybe that will come in time. I'll let you know.

So there it is. A decidedly downbeat posting - but I really did want to mark rock bottom in some way. I value this experience highly, as it gives me a real insight into the feelings surrounding depression. I believe this will aid me very much in getting alongside other people going through similar in the future. For this, I am grateful. For now, I am holding tight.

Things always get better, right?

Just as the journey out is a big part of the holiday - arguably returning homing is a far bigger one. Back we go to the mundane existences we each enjoy. The specialness of being on holiday is over, and the only reason for us to write blog entries is that we have done or thought of something interesting.

Expect a lengthy pause.

It's been lovely to re-visit Tiree, and my friends Colin and Susan Woodcock. I've witnessed my first Raku firing, seen some top notch sunrises, eaten some lovely meals and been eaten to death by the midges that Tiree does not officially have. I've also seen over a dozen of Tiree's six trees, which was nice.

Now my thoughts return, with a sigh, to home. That said, the cloud didn't really leave me whilst away. I wish it had, but I was unable to completely elude it. I know this is a process I have to go with, but it is hard to shake the feeling that I will feel this bad forever.

The little memory detailed pictorially below is one that pleased me. Jac and myself were served matching puddings during a light lunch at the Scarinish Hotel. I can't ever remember being served a pudding that so completely matched my t-shirt, and to see Jac with one that totally matched her as well is almost beyond belief. Truly a treasured memory.

That said, in the short term, we need to concentrate our minds on the business of travelling home. The concerns revolve around waking up in time, vacating the house, remembering everything, not leaving the place a tip, not leaving a tip for the place, reading the electricity meters, catching the ferry and then driving home whilst tired and seasick.

If all goes well, we arrive home in the wee small hours of Sunday morning - excited, fresh and so very alive.

Those of you who know me well will know how many sunrises I see, and why I see then, when I do. This one was particularly smashing, and it heralded in what has proved to be the nicest weather of the holiday so far. Blue skies, gentle (mmm...maybe not /too/ gentle) breezes and warm sun.

Tiree, when the sun shines bright, is for me the most idyllic place I have ever witnessed. Maybe this is because the sun never seems to get too hot, and one can always enjoy a walk or to sit out and enjoy the countryside around.

It's OK, Jason, I'm going to stop there before I launch into the slightly depressive bout of soul searching you have come to expect. Yes, let's just leave it at that.

Although, at times like this...

It's OK, folks, I really did stop there. ;-)

Amazing Steak at Elephant's End Restaurant

Amazing Cattle Running Towards Me

Amazing installation at Gott Bay Pier

Jac on her never ending quest to photograph smashing things

Cultivated flowers, wild grass, rocks...ocean

Mannal Houses near our holiday cottage

Myrtle Bank Cottage, wherin we are living right now.

The waves of sea in a bay at here.

There you are. Holiday pictures to show nice things that I have seen and been to. Sadly, there is not a great deal of real pleasure right now. Just emptiness and a profound sense of loneliness. I am told this will change, so that's good.

Of course, it did happen. Very much so. More than that, in many ways I still feel married. I suspect the cold realisation that I am now sailing my ship alone will come as a series of short sharp shocks more to do with bills and finances than to do with a lack of emotional support or, perhaps, an empty flat.

All I would say to anyone contemplating divorce right now is that it is in no way an easy solution. It is not a simple way out, and even the nicest most amicable divorce hurts so very badly. The faults I have that made this marriage impossible, I still have, and will carry forward into any possible further relationship. If it had just been about me, then it would have been worth working hard at making changes. Sadly, as a couple, Liz and I were not good for each other, no matter how much we each developed as people. This, and only this made the divorce necessary.

I would caution anyone contemplating divorce to check first if their basic compatibility with their partner is there. If it is - then hang on in there. Fix it. Get some counselling - grow as a person. Make it work again, because that potential is there. Divorce will not help you one bit.

I bitterly regret that this is not the case for me at this time, because I feel that Liz is the kind of person I really could have worked things through with.

So, with those salutary words notwithstanding, it is now over. Within a few short weeks Liz will leave our flat and begin to live on her own again. I will stay at the flat and do the same.

I wish I could shake off the awful feeling that I died a bit today.

So here we are, suddenly thrust back onto the Isle of Tiree.

It was raining when we got here, indeed, the rain and general inclemency affected the sea portion of the journey profoundly. As soon as a ferry hits a swell, two things happen almost immediately:

1: A group of excited children, teenagers and excitable parents gather at the front of the observation lounge and shout “Wahaaaaaaayyyyy!!!!” each time we hit a big wave. The rules for the sound emitted are not strict, with sound people merely screaming, and others politely applauding.

I did nothing. I didn't even look. I placed my faith in the anti-seasickness pills I had taken - and the soporific effects they engendered. To look at the waves, or indeed to move in any way would have been to invite greater waves of nausea - which brings me to point two:

2: A slight smell of vomit lingers in the air.

Nevertheless, arrive we did, and the unpacking was done with good grace, although not much enthusiasm. We were all wrecked on so many levels. Time to sleep. We hurriedly unpacked our bedding, made our beds, and then lay on them.

I should point out that I am on holiday with Jac - a good friend from way back, and her son Tris. Tris nobly stood in for TL, whose fresh status as an ex-wife of mine somewhat precluded her from accompanying us on this occasion. Not the easiest situation to deal with, but it seemed such a shame to waste a perfectly booked holiday on Tiree - particularly as booking a cottage here is so much in demand. I won't pretend that some sort of black market deal did not occur to me.

Upon waking after the bliss of 4 hours sleep, I noticed the weather had brightened considerably. The sun showed its face and the afternoon soon lit up in a more traditional and usual idyllic way of Tiree. That said, even in the rain, the island retains a little of its magic.

My, how good it is to be here. Surely, of all the places on God's good earth, Tiree is the one which has the capacity to raise my spirits?

The pictures are of our first meal together, beautifully cooked by Jac. Most welcome. Thank you Jac. I did take pictures of the rain and the shine, but a caera card error snatched them away again. Ah, well.

More reports soon, assuming I manage to sniff out some internet...

Night drive from NBTS to Oban in 5 hours. Very tired. Very very tired. Oh my am I tired. Made the ferry on time. Tired though. Very tired. Now to board...thoughts of bacon abound. Yes, hungry - but still tired.

Eat.

Then sleep...