Back to Basics.

Something my dad said on Sunday got me thinking. When I first moved out and began my great culinary quest I ate an almost exclusively Far Eastern diet. Everything was very quickly stir fried or steamed. I ate lots of vegetables with it and was generally more healthy. That said even then my colesterol was slightly high. Not much of a problem given how good my blood pressure is.

As I have pushed the culinary boundaries and started slow cooking and using ovens I guess my ingredients became less healthy. Part is driven by cost. I had a very low income so could not afford expensive cuts of meat. Most of them of course have little flavour. As all the great chefs say fat equals flavour.

I'm now hurtling towards 44, my weight is over what I would like although some of that is down to risperidone. So tonight I went back to basics. Stir fried pork with carrots, beans and oyster sauce with some noodles. Splendid! Maybe I should have fewer ribs, less belly, cut off the fat of the lamb from the shoulder then see what happens.

That said my mood is okay. I feel more refreshed for the break despite the funeral and work is not too overwhelming. Maybe it is finally slowing down. The end of term is nigh.

I didn't get shortlisted for that job. I hadn't really expected to-I was left most confused by the online application process. At least they e mailed me. Talking of e mails I accidently started another blog on Tumblr today. Not sure what I will do with it. I was only trying to find a blog. Found it in the end.

Until tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.

Ps Now for the final of Masterchef.

Moonlight Over the Sea.

On Thursday evening I caught the train down to Kent after work. As my dad drove me back from the station we saw a flat calm sea and an emerging moon. Later it shone out over the still waters and the bay in which my dad lives was illuminated to its full glory. That is when I remember how beautiful it can be living by the sea. I recall an evening long ago sitting watching that lit up bay from the beach front house of a wealthy acquaintance drinking fine rioja-a life time away though.

And so another week is over. I have buried more of my dead-twice in a week is rare-and I try to move on. What does the next few months hold for me? At this rate if it doesn't slow down more weariness and the risks that that entails. Normally life slows down after Easter but not this year. I wonder why that is? There is no change on the horizon. Only uncertain change over that horizon. I know change is coming but can I wait that long?

What I do know though is that the paperback version of "Charon's Ferry" should be out in a few weeks. I submitted the revised text and cover picture on Wednesday. It looks great-Beka Smith has done me proud once again. Let's hope the proofs arrive soon.

And so to a sunny Saturday afternoon in Kent. There is beef rendang slowly cooking in the oven. The NFL draft is underway across the water and I'm about go and pay homage to that very water. God I love the sea!

I Heard a Voice.

Fruit and Meat.

Fruit and meat combined has never been a favourite in mine. I never did get the idea of pork with apple. That said my roast pears with goose at Christmas was a success. Those in North Africa and the Middle East have favoured the fruit and meat combination for centuries. Not much pork there though. I steered somewhat clear of those food cultures for years for that very reason. Yet as I get older-I will be 44 in August-my tastes are changing. So as an experiment I'm doing a lamb shank tagine with dates and almonds. I never liked nuts either but I can tolerate them now. I will let you know how it all comes out.

It has been something of cultured afternoon. Prior to putting the tagine on I began listening to Palestrina for the first time ages. It was a TV programme on Allegri's Miserere last night that prompted this venture back into the Renaissance although of course Palestrina is very early for that era. Good programme. I think I will keep the TV off until I get back from the pub this evening-always good to rest my eyes.

I set about the application form for that job this afternoon. I have done all the easy bits although having a drop down menu it struggled with my MA (Cantab) qualification. Yes I have an MA courtesy of the curious Cambridge system-my BA became and MA 4 years after I graduated. Graduation. So long ago. I had my first panic attack during my graduation lunch. Within 6 weeks of that so called triumph I had been locked up in an old Victorian asylum. Funny how the world goes. I doubt I will even get an interview for the job-can't get past that old problem of not having a porfessional qualification. Fortunately my current university and Cambridge saw fit to look beyond that. Who knows where I would be now without that stroke of good fortune.

And so to another Sunday. Opera of course. But no roast dinner-just bought some chicken thighs as I'm off to Kent on Thursday and I don't want cooked food hanging around when I'm away. I will be seeing dad but am really going for a funeral. Such is my life. Take care.

I Heard a Voice.

I'm Not a Magician.

Tonight I finally got to understand what people call comfort food. It was an alarming realisation that increasing in recent months I have slipped into that mode. Maybe that is why I have put on weight in recent weeks. My comfort food is salt and pepper ribs. When I got back late I knew I couldn't be bothered to cook. I couldn't even be bothered to reheat my Chinese chicken and mushroom stew. So off I went to the take away for the ribs. And they were fucking awful. Do I feel better? Not sure.

I had final confirmation today that I am simply appalling at dealing with people with anxiety problems. I am not a magician as way too many people expected me to be today. I am powerless in the face of people who choose not to do rather than to do. That was why I could never help my mum. Of course by not doing we prove to ourselves that we are the failures we believe ourselves to be. And there in lies the trap. We become the perfect failures by doing nothing. It did not make me feel good but I am not, repeat am not a magician. If I were I would soon be out of a job.

Talking of which if I can summon up the energy at the weekend I am applying for another job. Doubt they will even get back to me but I know if I do nothing nothing will happen. I really don't want to uproot my life again. I'm too old for that shit. But I cannot keep going as things are. Tomorrow I have to deal with the fall out from last Friday-can't be more specific than that.

Yet not all is bad in my life. Yesterday not 1 but 2 students independently told me they had nominated me for that award that I failed to win last year. Can I win this year? I will find out in June.

Next week I must attend 2 funerals. Somehow that seems more real and important than anxiety. Am I becoming too cynical?

I Heard a Voice.

Life is Fickle.

After my fraudulent triumph on Thursday when I last posted Friday was a much more difficult day. Perhaps I was not at my best. It has left me doing too much thinking over the weekend. I always have had trouble switching off. Fortunately today feels better than yesterday. Who knows about tomorrow for tomorrow I go back in earnest.

In the mean time I am listening to Marriage of Figaro and digesting my roast ham I had for lunch. I've not had Sunday lunch at lunchtime at home for a while. Outside of the ethnic football season I tend to eat in the evenings.

I must get down to writing my mood diary soon, it has been a while. I suspect as I reflect it will mainly be below the 0 mark. That is never a very good sign. The last 2 days I have taken an extra Risperidone on the advice of Heather. I'm not psychotic or suicidally depressed but sometimes it is better to be safe than sorry.

I Heard a Voice.

Nice but False.

Very rarely I can see the true impact of what I can do at my best when I am with my students. It is most unnerving when I tell people their lives from what little they do tell me. Unnerving for me and for them. Makes me feel good but a fraud as well. Those days don't happen very often. Twice in one day is unheard of. But that all changed today.

Living with a mood disorder makes one see the world as all or nothing. So do years of fighting perfectionism. All my students are perfectionists and each and everyone of them I tell them that they are destined to fail. I tell my self that too but I fail in that as well. There are many mixed views on me. I like the good ones but I shy away from them and sabotage the good feelings it brings. Depressed people can't be anything other than the most useless piece of shit that ever walked the earth. Sadly that is part of the condition. Today I felt exalted then a fraud.

It was a busy day. Despite it still being the holiday I had 5 people booked in. Only 4 turned up but it seems I was at my best with 2 of them and apparently changed their lives.

The first, a fiery, damaged and depressed Hindu I have known for a while. I don't normally mentions someone's faith but for the purposes of this paragraph it is relevant. She stunned me with what she said:

"I look up to you. When I think of you you remind me of the Buddha." Whilst I might like in my ego to think of myself as wise man and a dispenser of good advice. I know that is bollocks and I am certainly not enlightened. The nearest I get to the depictions of the Buddha is I have an overly large belly and am balding. When I questioned her she said "you have changed your life and can reflect on what was wrong with your old life." She compared that to the Buddha. I'm not sure I changed my life, more my life changed me; it was forced on me by psychotic breakdown. A flawed analogy but it feel great that I can have had such an impact on a young person.

Later I met student for the first time. She has been in therapy for years. She gave me a hint of her background and I told her her life. She commented that " I have let out more and learned more in an hour with you than with anyone in my life." She wants to come back. Not sure it will go down well politically but so be it. Actually what did it was that she had heard me tell my story in person. To her it was "inspirational." That makes me see my flaws.

Whilst I try to keep my ego in check I think today was truly a day on what I did some good.

I am not an inspiration. But as I write I am listening to one. The late great Bob Marley plays load and clear in my flat. Now he is an inspiration. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

A Passing.

As I have mentioned before this blog is not about making political comment. My views are irrelevant but given my background it is not really hard to guess which way I vote in elections. But I cannot let today pass without comment. For today Margaret Thatcher died at the age of 87. I think it was Enoch Powell who once said something along the lines that "all political careers end in failure". Indeed Thatcher was ousted by her own party. She changed my world.

There has never been a more divisive figure in my lifetime. Well I guess George W Bush but he was not from my country. The way she is remembered will be polarised; they will be dancing in the streets in the northeast and the former pit villages of Kent. By marked contrast I suspect there is deep mourning in the Falkland Islands. But whatever she did  ist was over 20 years ago, good and ill.

I was supposed to be one of Thatcher's children. We were the last of the educated aspiring to the top before the recession of the 1990s. Her vision remains in many of my highly successful friends. By contrast I must be a complete failure.

There are many in the university who doubt that statement. Yet I keep going each day despite the increasing toll on my physical health and the precarious nature of my mental health. Whatever and whoever I am now, I do not think it is good to celebrate deaths. At least not those who are not evil. Evil is rare in my experience and I'm not important enough to stand in judgement on such figures.

I Heard a Voice.

Staying Indoors.

Given the amount of sunshine there was outside today, perhaps it was not the best day to stay indoors. Yet that is precisely what I did. Really didn't feel like going out. I spent the day listening to opera-Tosca and now Zaide-interspersed with Lotti. Puccini, Lotti and Mozart-maybe a strange combination. But it was fun.

After my industrious day yesterday I have a very stiff back and have taken things gently. All I have really done was put together my wild boar stew. It is smelling particularly fine and I'm aiming to eat at 7 pm. My friend Richard is bringing round some rioja to go with it.

A day of culture it may be but still my nights are wracked with nightmares. This is getting ridiculous, I have been up at least 4 times a night on each of the last 4 nights. Eerily similar to the last year I lived in Kent. It is impacting on my mood. More than anything it is really pissing me off. I do hope tonight goes better.

I have  2 more nights to catch that precious sleep before my return to the university. It does not feel good going back as I'm not rejuvenated enough. Fortunately it will not really get going until Wednesday-I have set aside the first 2 days to catch up-I am that far behind.

Yet before then I have the delights of slow roast shoulder of pork with loads of crackling (I hope)! That is always a great pleasure just like Mozart.

I Heard a Voice.

Wild Boar for Dinner.

Greetings to all you out there. Yes last month there were a lot of you out there-the most hits I have ever had. Do forgive my absence for the last few days-I'm trying to pack my holiday with interesting things.

I came home on Tuesday then headed for St Albans all afternoon on Wednesday. Had a Thai lunch-rather mediocre with the beef tough-a wander around the market then a couple of ales in the Garibaldi with my friend Mike. I really should get to St Albans more often, it is a nice place for a day trip.

Yesterday I travelled further afield into London with Dory. We ravaged Borough Market-I even sampled blue cheese which I usually detest-then a tour around the haunts of my past and finally on to Chinatown. It was fun but bitterly cold, apparently one of coldest April days in London ever recorded. Bitter wind too. I came back loaded with wild boar, prosciutto, manchego, Italian fennel salami, and a somewhat depleted wallet. Dory always makes me laugh in the way that only us crazies can.

Today it was domesticity-the dreaded oven cleaning-and a pint in the country. I now have Mozart opera playing, the boar is marinading for a stew tomorrow, and I'm putting off the inevitably filthy job of scrubbing the oven after a 3 hour soak-yuck!

That said it has been a hard holiday to judge. I have been overwhelmed with nightmares for the last 3 days. That is always a huge sign of stress with me. I keep trying to shy away from thoughts of work but they keep coming. I really must try and connect with the elusive one, I can never get hold of my GP. Harder still to find the time to see him.

So life is mixed as I crawl towards what I know will be a difficult return to work on Monday. Hopefully there will be more posts before then though.

I Heard a Voice.

Sun is Out, Time for Pimm's!

It seems ages since I was in my flat. Actually have not had it to myself for a while with my visitor from beyond the sea. I'm now back. The sun is shining but it remains cold. I'm cooking a Cambodian beef curry with ginger and cardamom. Rice has just gone on and I should eat in about 20 minutes.

When I got back I had to replenish my meagre stocks. But it was not just food I bought. With the Pimm's season starting on Sunday I had to be prepared. So I came home with cucumber, lemons, lime, and a mint plant. Had some Pimm's left over from last year so when all is cooled I will pour my first Pimm's of the season.

There are still a few days left of my holiday. I will travel to St Albans and London in the coming days. Then home for a quiet weekend before the carnage of next week.

Not really sure where I am mentally. I don't feel depressed but I continue to be plagued by nightmares. That is never a very good sign in my life. Please go away!!!

I Heard a Voice.