A Fusion Delight.

For those of you who read this regularly you will of course have noticed that there is a great deal on here about food. One was the great things lacking in my country is that lack of food being central to the core of what we do. It is hard to identify much that is English apart from roasted meats on Sunday, steak and kidney puddings, bangers and mash, and a marvellous legacy of sticky puddings. There is of course one other great pillar of our food culture, the fried breakfast. So many other countries, particularly in Asia do it better than us; life revolves around food and faith.

But I am a foodie and have a large collection of cookery books. By far the greatest and most beautiful is Ken Hom's "Taste of China". It is full of simple yet stunning recipes as one would expect. But it is more than that, it is a great read with amazing photos recalling that most diverse of food cultures. A couple of years ago my sister  Miriam asked me for a good Chinese cook book,. without hesitation I bought her the "Taste of China". Sadly the latest edition does not contain all those fabulous pictures.

On a hot late Spring day after too much time spent cleaning and tidying-my flat really needed that-I turn once again to Ken Hom. This time his fusion book "Ken Hom Travels With a Hot Wok". If you don't have it get it, the Korean beef kebabs are the finest BBQ foods I have ever eaten. But it is not them that I am doing today. Rather I am trying something different. For the last 2 hours I have been marinading a pork chop in Madras curry powder, cumin, five spice, thyme, salt, pepper, and Szechuan peppercorns. It is just about to go into my griddle pan and if it tastes any where near as good as it smells I will be very happy.

Then I will retire for Pimm's and an evening of cricket highlights and my other favourite TV chef Rick Stein. Nice to have a day away from mental health; I have barely thought about madness at all.

I Heard a Voice.

A Journey's End.

Today I finally finished "Charon's Ferry". I have been writing for 9 months and somehow managed to complete an average of 10,000 words a month during that time. It makes the end of a journey that did not start last summer but rather 22 summers before that.

I got ill on 16th June 1990. Such a long time ago; a life time away. Early on in my painful journey through the utterly flawed Mental Health System I swore I would write a book. "A Pillar of Impotence" took 3 years to write, 4 years to find a publisher and then another year to be officially launched. That final moment came on Tuesday 12th April 2011 at the University of Hertfordshire. I never believed I had another book in me. But I was wrong.

"Charon's Ferry" was born out of the desire of people to find out what happened after I got well. I was of course then not who I am now. Today that journey finally came to an end. There is still a way to go until it is out. I will reread it over the coming days then send it off to a friend to proof. I then have a second proof reader lined up before it goes to the publisher. Then it is time to wait. But my story is complete.

I have no intention of ever writing about me in print again. I think I have run out of things to say.

I Heard a Voice.

Sun Comes Out, Time for Pimm's

One of the more happy memories of Cambridge even after I got ill were the wonderful garden parties we had in the summer. Being into sport at Cambridge got me into lots of parties. I never worked out why we revere sportsmen and women but in Cambridge it seemed very important. It was there is the late 80s I developed a liking for Pimm's. Another of my many English traits.

In the very darkest days of my madness I gave up drinking for 2 years. It was not until later when my isolation reduced that Pimm's returned to my life. Now when the sun is out it is always time for Pimm's made with mint and cucumber as essentials and various other fruits depending on what is available.

There has not been much sun this year but at the end of a very hot day I made some Pimm's and have been cooling down with it this evening.

It seemed a long day. I was tired despite being in one of my more sleep filled time frames. Not sure that 3 early morning nightmares helped but at times I felt a bit lost today. Let's hope for better tomorrow although I have found myself feeling like this at the end of each week I have been back.

Looks like I'm heading to London on Saturday for what might be an interesting appointment. Might lead somewhere which I can only share in July. Alternatively it might lead nowhere. The man I called god from my last inpatient stay only said one sensible thing to me in 4 months "I don't care what you do but do something and do something that has a purpose". So in the grander scheme of madness I am taking a risk. Too cryptic? We will see!

I Heard a Voice.

Whispers from a Former Life.

It never ceases to amaze me just how easy it can be to track people down using the internet. Facebook has been a God send for me as so many old friends have got in touch. In the last year or so I have also started using Linkedin. Met fewer people that way but it has still paid dividends.

On Friday I received an e mail via that route from a man I have not spoken to in 30 years. I have often wondered about him but never found him. Well on Friday night he called and we rolled back the years. We had much in common. He too got ill at university and from the sound of it his psychiatric career was even scarier than mine. But he made his way back from mental illness and it is now just a part of his life rather than the whole. I live in that world too.

I was relieved when the weekend came-I was dead tired again. Although my sleep has not been the best I do feel refreshed. We have our work away day tomorrow. No idea what that will bring. Then it is back to reality. Reality such as it is is slowing down for me now.

The weekend has been quiet. Cricket, West Ham getting back into the Premier League and cooking have been on my mind. I did a Spanish braise of beef in cider yesterday. What held so much promise sadly was a little disappointing. Hope it is better next time. Now today I will be having rare roast beef for the second time in a week. I keep meaning one day to get a tray to cook Yorkshire puddings but I keep forgetting-maybe one day. Rioja is of course a must.

What I did achieve this weekend though was to complete my editing of "Charon's Ferry". I sent it off to my friend Katherine to proof this afternoon. Hoping it will be at the publisher by the end of June. And then we will wait again.

I Heard a Voice.

A Very Strange Drought.

I'm old enough to remember the epic drought of 1976. I recall the only day all summer it rained was on the day of my local town carnival-we got soaked. The government and media told us we needed months of continuous rain in the autumn to recover. When the rains came it rained for 6 weeks without a break and life was restored with overflowing reservoirs and an end to standpipes.

Fast forward 36 years and once again we are allegedly in another drought. Well looking out my window I can't see the evidence at all. A few weeks after drought was declared in many areas of the UK had the drought order withdrawn. Not where I live. Yet with the exception of a fine weekend it has rained practically every day here for the last month. No doubt someone will blame climate change. Well I have news for the experts-no one believes you any more!

So what of the weekend? It made a nice interlude with Beka, Mike and Miriam joining me for rare roast beef-God we are so English.! It was back to reality yesterday and this week there have been signs that my life is slowing down. It has been unusually busy for May. In couple of weeks most of the students will have gone and we will be back into the long and slightly less interesting summer. University holidays are way too long!

I am in the main doing okay. I'm back to my normal risperidone level and so far so good. My next focus is on editing the book. I felt very badly let down last time but I have made better plans now. When I have read through it will go to my friend Katherine to proof. She read "A Pillar of Impotence" in 8 hours! Let's hope she can turn it around quickly-I'm getting impatient for it to come out although realistically we are probably 12 months away from the paperback.

So now it is back to my quiet home life. Just cooking rice and will then stir fry garlic pork with loads of chilli bean sauce-I do so love chilli!

I Heard a Voice.

A Writer's Desert.

It is a most curious feeling to finish writing a book. In February 2005 when I completed "A Pillar of Impotence" I cried and then felt completely empty. I was convinced it was no good and would never be published. Of course I was wrong although it took an awfully long to get the paperback out to the public.

Fast forward my life 7 years and I have now completed "Charon's Ferry". Late this afternoon I wrote the final paragraph. I still have the epilogue to write and correct a couple of omissions but it has finally come to fruition. Once again I feel empty although there were no tears this time. I still think it is awful and dread the publisher rejecting it. There is much expectation after the response to the first book. But I know I can never match that. Time will tell if it is any good.

In the mean time I must content myself with watching West Ham-they appear on their way to Wembley-, slow roasting shoulder of pork (note to Dory, nothing fancy just seasoned with salt and pepper and put on a low heat for 4 hours), wondering if on such a dull day I should make Pimm's with what I bought this afternoon, and enjoy a better day than on Saturday in which my world is all in place. Back to the busy world of the university tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.

Mood Still Not Right.

It has not been my best day today. Originally I planned to go to Cambridge to watch the Pythons take on Oxford in the first Varsity match in many years. A waterlogged pitch put paid to that. It was then reinstated but at a ground that would have been very hard for me to get to from the train station. So instead I went to London. Wish I hadn't bothered.

From the irritating Liverpool fan on the train, to the delayed tube, to the poor lunch for which I was overcharged, from not finding the one item I went there to buy and finally discovering that the car park at the station had doubled in price since I was last there. Not amused at all.

What I can't understand in the light of recent much more serious events why I am so annoyed about today. Well I guess the only answer is that my mood still is not right. Last week was extremely tough but unlike my usual brimming mood when the going is tough I was flat, tired and demoralised. Maybe it is time to put the risperidone up again for a while.

I'm home now and consoling myself with hotdogs-which I love-and copious amounts of beer. I do hope the gloom lifts soon-this is getting really boring now.

I Heard a Voice.

More Suicides.

Last Friday when I got to work I heard about another 2 apparent suicides. One was a student that I didn't know-it was the 4th we have had in 4 months. The other happened at my local railway station. Over the week little pieces of information started coming together in my suspicious mind. I hoped I had added 2 and 2 and come up with 5. Sadly, my local paper website confirmed as I feared that it was someone I knew.

Mum died 5 weeks ago yesterday. Up until about an hour ago the death toll since then of people I knew or friends knew was 5. Then I got a text from my neighbour to tell me of another. It has indeed been a very sad few weeks.

If you know me or have read my book you will realise that I have an understanding of suicide that few professionals can match. I am afterall a survivor of suicide. Deep in my mind it still lurks somewhere in the darkness of my madness. But I don't think it will return. I have now lost 9 friends, a cousin I had never met, a student and now my acquaintance here to suicide. The true figure of course is higher-suicide verdicts are rare and I'm not sure the latest one will get that verdict. Should a 42 year old even doing what I do have endured it so many times? Probably not.

My first week back has been busy, tough and gruelling. I have come home shattered each night even though I have seen many of my most interesting students this week. It may be just early days but I am questinoning if I was really ready to be back full time. Only time will tell.

It is wet, grey and dull out. Cold too. And this is during a drought. It reflect my thoughts, tired and flat. I am glad the weekend is coming. I'm within touching distance of finishing my book but have been too tired to write. I hope I can do it over this long weekend.

I Heard a Voice.