Backing up

I’m still not quite sure what happened to my back. I know what’s wrong with it and I know what I did that day, but I can’t quite put my finger on any given incident that caused it. It’s sore. I’m pissed off and tired. I can still do most things, but it just takes three times as long and leaves me exhausted by mid-afternoon. That said, I’m not able to do everything: I had plans to dump a quarter of a ton of topsoil on the lawn this week, but I’ve decided to give that a miss. I didn’t play football this evening.

My L5/S1 disc is prolapsed, but it’s not a bad one – just a really annoying one. This will be the billionth time it’s happened since I first damaged it when I was 16. I’ve got some wonderful MRI images from over the years.

I once used a physio who told me that it was me that knew best how to deal with my crappy back, and he was right. I’ve tried most things over the years to make it feel better. The best remedy I ever had was pethidine, but sadly, that’s not readily available right now, so I’m using my fallback (no pun intended) methods of gentle mobilisation, lying flat whenever possible, and heat. Nowhere near as much fun.

Recovery is happening, but at a very slow pace. But then, as I said earlier, everything is happening at a very slow pace right now.

Grr.

Back and foot

It’s like foot and mouth, except more less serious.

Meh. I’ve hurt my back shifting furniture around. I’ve always had back problems, but I thought they were behind me (no pun intended), because I’ve been working really hard on my core muscles and I feel fitter and more protected than ever.

Not so, it seems.

Add to that the f****** bee sting from the weekend, which has now swelled up like a swollen thing on my foot. Itchy, hot. Irritating.

Have some Iggy Pop. His recent Maida Vale BBC Radio 6 Music session.

I love this, and I am dying to find it on Spotify.
Also, I hope I am still rocking at 72 years old.
Just being able to walk again in 72 hours would be a start.

And: Leron Thomas on trumpet. Beautifully understated, but hugely important.

Tramadol? I’m tempted…

Dispatches from (Uns)Table View

I’ve headed North North East for today’s blog post, to the suburb of (Uns) Table View. The suburb looks across Table Bay and over towards Table Mountain, hence the name Table View. Everyone I’ve every met who lives here has been a little bit nuts, hence I added the (Uns).

Despite the wonderful view, it’s not generally somewhere I would normally come, but the boy has extra Dodgeball training ahead of next week’s African Cup.

So I’m indoors in a sports hall. The view’s not great, but there is security so the local residents are kept safely beyond the complex walls.

Later this afternoon – three hours later [wailing face emoji] – I’ll be heading home back to just 6000 miles from civilisation.

And then this evening? I dunno. Might stay up too late watching footy. Maybe a brandy. Maybe two.

SSDS

Same Sh*t, Different Saturday.

Stayed up too late watching footy. Maybe a brandy. Maybe two.

Wake late after remarkable dreams of Winston Churchill doing a speech before we all had to hide from an impending air raid. I have no idea either. Wander downstairs. Coffee. Check in with the neighbourhood whatsapp group on the break-ins last night. Four. Great. Breakfast. Paint the laundry. As you do. Just the bit behind the beer fridge and the washing machine. No-one sees it anyway. Revise maths and history with the boy. uMkhonto weSizwe. Lilliesleaf. The Rivonia Trial. Pythagoras. And the train that leaves Edinburgh for London at a certain time and a certain speed. You know the rest. No replacement bus service. Remarkable. Get stung by a bee. Bastard. Gym. Because when your 13 year old wants to do something not involving a screen, you jump at the opportunity. Miles and miles on the static bike. Not quite Edinburgh to London, but still. Heart rate up to 183. Another hour of lifting, stretching, sprinting, sweating, dying. Home now and legs a bit hurty if I’m completely honest. I’m usually always completely honest. Considering motivating for UberEats tonight. We deserve it.

Might stay up too late watching footy. Maybe a brandy. Maybe two.

Bowls and WordPress

And thus, the plan to play bowls when I am older was set in pixels. Here.
I don’t want to take up bowls now. I’m too young. I enjoyed the casual social league that we played in this last month because of the fact that it was casual and despite the fact that it was social. I might even wander along to their other casual, social bowls events. But I’m not ready to commit myself to playing week in week out right now.

But therein lies a problem. If ever there was a sport in which you improve the more you play, it’s bowls. (Actually, it’s pretty much all sports, but that doesn’t particularly suit my rather focussed narrative here.) So when I get around to playing bowls, anyone who took it up at a younger age will probably be a lot better than I am. I’ll constantly be playing catch-up. (And bowls, obviously.) If I am going to play bowls when I’m older I’d like to be quite good at it. I don’t mind losing, but there’s no fun in being beaten every single time you take to the lawn.

Which brings me to WordPress. WordPress is the software that allows me to write my blog. So if you want to complain to someone about my blog, complain to them. I really don’t need to hear your negativity.

WordPress has something called a block editor, which – when they introduced it eleven months ago – scared me shitless. Fortunately, a workaround was found and I’ve never really looked back. I’ve never really needed to.

The block editor was introduced in WordPress 5.0, and we’re now on 5.3.
5.3, they say:

…expands and refines the block editor introduced in WordPress 5.0 with a new block, more intuitive interactions, and improved accessibility.

…which sounds quite promising.

So basically, not only is the block editor clearly here to stay, but it’s also now really good (according to WordPress, at least). Maybe it’s time that I took the plunge and give the block editor a go: switch off my Classic Editor plugin, safe in the knowledge that I can switch it straight back on again if I don’t like what happens.

Otherwise, the alternative is trying again in twenty years and being really rubbish at it compared to everyone else.