Allo Georgie

Very much do I like the song and the pictures also. Although this not exact hotel at which we stay it gets right the atmosphere and    all feelings.

As regarding the up hill to bed, well, it was worth the walk would not you say! (I put exclaiming mark because question is what you call rhetorical)

Mr Wormold say he like having us at his hotel and we may stay again if we should like to so do. 

As regarding publishing of the photos, I leave this to your discretionary. I know you have good taste and so I trust judgement.

Dave is in bit of state. Date for tribunal is fixed. I say to him, do not be upsetting oneself for I will accompany you and even perhaps act as what you call character witness.

Dave is alarmed by my suggestion and say that would not be wise in circumstance because they would know he is cohabiting (what a strange word) with female student.
I say to him, so what - is not this one of perks of profession? Which compensate for low wages and shit working conditions?

Dave say, this may be true but is not stated anywhere in contract of employment and would make matters worse if I attend. Especially if wearing one's usual provocative clothing. 

I am deeply offended and tell him my clothing is not provocative, and if he wants provocative I give him provocative! 

He say, sorry, and he like way I dress but tribunal are old fuddled duddies (?)

So I tell him, ok buster you are on your own then.

I will comfort him though, at home.

Well, what does one think about Mr Wormold's kind offer?

Write soon

Your Anna

The Railway Hotel

*****************************************************

Just for you, Anna.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHvnMB1ee2A


Your George

How was it for you?

******************************************************

WOW! What a weekend that was, Anna. I've done nothing but sleep since I got back - it must have been all the fresh air.

It was good to get back in the saddle. I had forgotten how the simple pleasures of life can be the most enjoyable: pedals, turning, wheels spinning, the wind in your hair. Wonderful.

It was decent of Mr Wormold to fix us up with cycles. Did you notice how his eyes filled with tears when he handed over his wife's bike to you? And he said how good it was to see two young (?)people enjoying what his wife and he used to do so often - before she left him.

Actually, I found the seat of his bike quite hard. But he said he likes a hard leather one - its more manly. 

And what a great job they've made in turning that disused railway line into a cycle track. Mr Wormold told me it is part of the Trans-Leicester Way and is used by cyclists from all over the midlands - and further afield.

I asked him if Railway Hotel was a listed building. But he said, No, it was just a bit of subsidence. (it is the only hotel room I have stayed in where you walk, uphill to the bed). Still, I am not grumbling; the bed was lovely and soft, and springy.

I was wondering if I should publish (on the blog) some of the photos we took. What do you think? Perhaps they are a bit personal? To us, I mean. And yet the autumn colours were so lovely: the leaves and the mellow stone of the old railway arches in the late afternoon sun, that I feel I want to share them with everybody.

Well, I have lots more to say so will write again.

George

Oh dear Georgie 

You are getting yourself into that state again which you must be careful of avoiding.  Do not be concerning oneself about everybody. You are like man in The catcher in the rye - but this I have told you previously.

As you know Sweden is the mainly secular country but do have some churches of which I am not member. Recently I see there comes Church of Kopimism which believe sharing of information to be holy. They taking the piss - or what? Anyways I also believe it good to share information when I got any to share, and I have.

Remember how I tell you of how Dave is depressed and acting strangely, well two days since he say to me, I think I need to see doctor about mental condition, like my depression which is now considerably bothering me. But I am fearful to go because he might send me to the hospital for treatment, and I do not wish to be connected to electricity supply and given the ECT.

I therefore say to him, do not be worrying. I shall accompany you to see physician, for I have much experience regarding mental disturbance - and I tell him about you. I say you were much more mentally disturbed than what he is, and that you making recovery, although slowly.

He is grateful for my kind offer and so we go, and doctor ask lots of questions and then he says, I will prescribe for you these medication anti-depressants which you must take in mornings, two. And I say to doctor, and what is name of this medication? And then he says name (which I will not include here for certain reasons) and I say to him, hang about there, doc, this drug is banned in Sweden for its addictification. And doctor says, well we are in UK and is not banned here. And I say, but how can drug be addictive in Sweden but not in this country?

Then he say to me, if you do not mind my asking - what is your relationship to the patient (he mean Dave). And I say, but I do mind you asking such personal question. Relations as Dave and oneself enjoy are our own business.

And he say, I mean are you his spouse, or his partner or friend? Or perhaps you are his carer?

But I refuse to answer this question and we leave with piece of prescription paper, which look like been signed by small toddler who cannot yet write his name.

Then we go to pharmacy in big store and on counter is notice which say - Mr Wilkins is today's Responsible Pharmacist.( actually name is not Mr Wilkins but a foreign one which I do not wish to replicate  in case one is accused of racial intimidation.)

Anyways, Dave -seeking to make joke - say "But I would like to see the IRRESPONSIBLE Pharmacist." And girl behind counter does not smile but say "Yes, everybody says that." 

Dave experience embarrassment so I quickly interject myself by saying "He is a bit mentally disturbed, so if you please be giving us medication as written on paper."

But then after we wait for long time, silly cow come back and say we do not have these medications in at this time so could you come back tomorrow?

No - I tell her. Give back to me prescription and we go find proper chemist. Which we do, in back street. And he supply us with pills.

So now I have shared this information with you I shall return to your problems of which I do not trivialise them. This depression is very bad thing - sometimes called BLACK DOG - which has Mr Churchill prime minister. But also to have feeling of treacle in veins must be scarifying like you can't move about with ease. What I say to you is to keep taking the medications and also take the exercise, regular because this great help.

As regarding those persons who will not talk nor yet discus, they probably cannot help themself in being such way,  but  neither be wasting time with this type of person.  Bid them farewell, with perhaps appropriate phrase such as "Bugger off".

Another thing to help you would be to do something  like take action. And to help you thus I have arrange weekend at Cycle track hotel. Where I will look after your every need and cheer you up.

Hoping you are both up for it and up to it.

Look forwards to hearing you.

Your loving Anna.

Ok, Noah...so it's raining - it's not the end of the world

*******************************************

I wonder if that's what they said to him; all them there sinners. I mean didn't they notice all the animals walking past, two by two?

It could be the end of the world now. It has been rain, rain, rain for days... weeks even. At least where I am. Cold, dark, dreary.

I'm in a fix, Anna.

Treacle in my veins. That's what I've got. At least that's what it feels like

And you have not replied to my last communication. What does this mean? Are you devoting all your attention to the depressed Dave? Don't forget that I am depressed as well; in fact I am becoming glummer by the day.

I wonder why people won't discuss things; talk about things. Are they afraid that they may not have an "answer" and so would prefer not to risk talking about it? Do they not know that talking about some problem or other sometimes produces an answer? Even if it doesn't produce an answer, just the process of talking often helps.

The Buddhists say that two things should be avoided at all costs: Hope and Fear. Most people would agree about fear but not about hope. I can understand what the Buddhists mean. Fear and hope are both about the future. Live in the present. If you can.

Actually, I think that both Hope and Fear (as we know it) were acquired when we attained consciousness (self consciousness). You can see why Fear is a useful emotion: it forces you to do something when faced with immediate danger.

The caveman hears the bellow of the woolly mammoth and legs it back to his cave. But I bet he didn't spend a sleepless night worrying about all the woolly mammoths he might meet the following day. Also, I don't imagine he hoped that the woolly mammoths would die out - or anything else, in fact. You can only hope and fear (as we practice it) if your 
brain is developed enough to have a sense of the future.

I am having a cup of tea. That's what we English do when things look bleak: we make a cup of tea.
I am not writing any more just now. This doesn't mean that I have nothing to say... but I shall wait until I hear from you.

George

A damp Sunday morning

****************************************************

I wonder what you are doing this morning Anna. And with whom.

I am sitting here looking through the square window at a damp Sunday morning. Funny how you can always tell it's Sunday. There's something about the atmosphere, the feel of a Sunday.
I bet I could be alone in the middle of the Ghobi desert or at the  North Pole and I would know if it were a Sunday..

A neighbour walks past with two small children. She is on her way home from church. What on earth does she think she is doing; inculcating two small children (not even her own) into a myth; getting them to believe a fairy story to be fact.

It strikes me how like Father Christmas is God: a benevolent old gentleman with a white beard, somewhere up there in the sky, ready to bestow  upon us wondrous gifts - if we are good. Ah, there's the rub, as Shakespeare might have said. (I wonder did Shakespeare believe in God? I guess you had to, in those days - or at least pretend to .Otherwise you could have been in for an early morning fry-up, at the stake.).

And who will define what "being good" is for those two children who have just walked past? Those two children who don't really understand the ritual, the bit of theatre they have just been put through? The vicar? The priest? Aided and abetted by parents; those unwitting agents of the establishment?

And by the time they are old enough to realise it is not" Father Christmas" who brings the presents, they are hooked into the myth at a deep level. Disappointment and confusion awaits.

If only the could be taught 'reality' instead.

But we must look on the bright side, Anna, and so I shall finish with a few lines that came to me from the back of my head:


She didn't respond when I kissed her -
In fact she said: less of that, mister,
I am pledged to another -
So I gave her another -
She's gone - now I'm kissing her sister.

Here's to our coming weekend

George

I'm not afraid of Virginia Woolf

************************************************************

In fact, I am immersed in her; and I would never have thought I could become so enthralled in a novel in which nothing really happens. Well, that's not quite true; but most of it happens in the minds of her characters

Some people find Virginia Woolf's writing depressing. But she wrote about how she saw life; and she saw so much more than most. Maybe her "depression" gave her greater insights, and her command of language the ability to express and share those insights with others.

I sometimes wonder if we are like rats in an experimenter's cage: running around pressing levers to get food pellets, but what we don't know is that the levers are not connected to anything; the food pellets are delivered randomly. We think we have control - but we haven't.

But surely it's not like that, Anna - is it?

I like the idea of the Cycle-track Hotel. Perhaps we could hire bicycles and go for a spin. What do you say?

I don't mean to turn the weekend into an 'activity holiday'. In fact I have always seen activity holidays as a contradiction in terms. But 30 minutes pedalling is wonderful for getting the endorphins going.

I am tired, and my bed awaits.

I shall dream of the Cycle-track Hotel.

George

This bloody awful English weather is making one wish to be back in Sweden. Also with the depressing Dave who is still in state of suspension from employment and is getting under one's feet all the time, is pissing one off and no mistake.

Well, Georgie, what you say about other way of knowing, this I think is correct. I always go with what you call gut reaction:
I have got to know a lot of things by feeling them.

And one is of the opinion that sometimes all this talk talk gets in way of real stuff. I am reminded of song which say "Don't talk of love - show me." That will do me, buster.

I look at this page 3 in paper what Dave is now reading and see these girls which look like big plastic dolls what have been pumped up in pneumatic manner. Totally non sexual are these women to me.

I tell this to Dave and he says, well I will not pin behind lavatory door then. And then he laugh and say he is joking.

I remember how you tell me previously about this girl with diminutive breasts called Polly, who work in circus as contortionist and you call her your flexible friend. Am I correct? You say she dump you because you can never see things from her angle?

I think you are perhaps making up this story - not the breasts bit but circus and contortionist part. Because how come you get to know circus peoples? You will be telling one next as how you did work yourself in circus as human canonball. Ha, ha. Just because I come from Sweden do not think I was born day before yesterday.

But to come back to breasts - I am agreeing with you as how size of bodily components do not matter. Except perhaps in adult movie business. Although example of democratic nature of such business is how it cater for ladies who are not well blessed in this respect, having created what one might call a niche market especially for these ladies. But that is by the by.

Now we are coming to the more important question of our next venue.

Well, I have surprise for you. I have been working part of the time in Railway Hotel as barmaid, in order to be substantiating my income while doing student work at same time.

Recently I do small favour for landlord in cellar. Time has come for taking inventory of all stuff in hotel, and Mr Wormold (that is his name) his wife is on skiing holiday. So I lend him my hand.
I count all barrels of beer and bottles of wine and spirit and other stuff and writing down.

Railway Hotel does the bed and the breakfast, and Mr Wormold say we can have two nights free! On account of all extra effort I put in to him.

Is not that splendid? (Actually, hardly anybody stay here because place is crap. Still it will do for our purposes admirably, I am thinking.)

Do not worry about possible noise because hotel is no longer near railway. That part of line have been closed for many years and rails removed and is now cycle track. So I am thinking hotel should be called Cycle-track Hotel. I say this to Mr Wormold but he say brewery would not like this name. This is trouble with you English you are so binded by tradition.

Anyways you just needs tell me when you can make for the weekend here.

Hope shitty weather not causing you depression. more than usual,

Action is antidote for depression so let us get with it, eh?

Yours who can hardly wait

Anna

ps. One other good news piece - the university people have agreed  my dissertation on Swedish porn industry. So I shall now get one's teeth into it, as you say.

Thoughts on a cold morning

*********************************************************

Frost on the shed,
Ice on the car -
I think I'll spend today in a bar...

Can you imagine, Anna, - Ice in September! Admittedly he sun is now shining and the ice melting but - Ice in September?

That Dave should eschew the Guardian in favour of the tabloid press is not good news.

Is he reading the Sun? This newspaper is noted for its Page 3 girls, endowed, as they are, with enormous bosoms. Personally I cannot see the attraction of these busty beauties. Is size really important? 

I once went out with a girl who had no breasts, to speak of. So we didn't speak of them. And I can honestly say that her breasts never came between us.

In a more philosophical mood, Anna: I was thinking: Can we know something by feeling it? Sort of intuitively? I mean instead of logically deducing it? Women's intuition is sometimes seen as a bit of a joke. But are we foolish to ignore this other way of knowing? I think men also have this ability but perhaps it has been submerged in  them, more than in women, under logic and rationality.

I think logic and rationality - the tools of scientific method - are very valuable and we owe much of our civilisation to them. But scientific method could be expanded to take in this other way of knowing.

(Maybe before we had language we had to use other forms of communication, and these have since withered - a bit like the appendix now that we no longer eat grass - or something like that)

We would have to be careful though, because it could open the door to all sorts of superstitious nonsense. Nevertheless, ignoring it because of this danger is a bit cowardly - and not really scientific. Science should be prepared examine (without prejudice) this soft evidence (largely anecdotal) as rigorously as it would any hard evidence (the evidence of the 5 known senses).

The avenue has broken out in a rash of estate agents' "For Sale" boards. Funny, but when I was at school and they asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up, I can't remember anybody saying they wanted to be an estate agent. Now there are millions of them. I wonder if it is a sort of 'second choice' profession. Like when you fail at being a used-car salesman or a debt-collector. Just a thought.

I have checked out cheap deals for Premier Inns, and the best I can get is £19 for one night in Budleigh-Salterton on the second Wednesday in November. I think this is too far away, both in distance and time. Any ideas?

Yours frustratedly

George

ps. I felt a bit iffy yesterday so I had an early night. I opted for the ibuprofen instead of the whisky. I think I made the right choice.

Please do not think because I am reversing to the usual black print that this post is not important. It is important but not as urgent as the one in red. If you see what I mean.

I am worried about Dave. He sits in the house all day watching the crap television except when sometimes in afternoon he goes to public house and play pool with bunch of deadbeats who do not have jobs.

This is most unsatisfactory situation for him because he now lacks motivation like what you were saying when you have a job to go to, although Dave don't work in office, he is teacher - no, he is college lecturer, which is different. 

Anyways, I say to him, do not lie stinking in bed but be getting up and getting one's arse in gear. Just because you waiting for tribunal hearing don't mean you should allow yourself to fester (note new word I learn) in misery and idleness because if you do this your brain will quickly rot.

Another worrying thing is that he is no longer reading Guardian newspaper, saying it is the Parish Magazine of Social Workers (what   does this mean?) and instead is reading what he previously have been calling the Gutter Press. And I say to him this is where you will be ending up - in the gutter - if you do not sort yourself out buster.

But at same time I comfort him because he is going through most stressful time, this I realise.

And then also I worry about you Georgie, with all these quick changes of mood similar to what your friend Virginia is writing about. This is woman who suicided herself by drowning in river, is not this so? Then why do you read stories by such a woman? This will not cheer you up but make you feel worse.

Also why are you wondering where all people in street going in opposite direction are off to? Next thing thing you will be forgetting where you are going yourself. And you do not wish to be detained in secure hospital for one's own safety, like was before necessary? 

Anyways I am back at universary for the completing of final year in which I have dissertation to do. This is like very long essay (20,000 words) on topic of one's choosing. I chose to do phenomenological  study of Swedish Pornographic Industry, but don't know if they let me yet. It is being discussed.

This Premier Inn is where they are guaranteeing you good night's sleep, is it not? Well this is of no use to us Georgie!!! ( exclaming marks indicate this to be little Swedish joke).

Bring it on

Anna