Balance

I have no balance this week.
Only general aches assault my bones but I am unable to centre myself, my concentration is patchy and I cannot relax into the moment.
Ah, the stresses of Bollywood exercise.
But the question of balance stretches further into my life, the balance of work and leisure, the balance of indulgence and abstinence, and the balance of hops and malt of which I found two great candidates for the lovely balance of the brewers art at The Three legged Mare on Sunday.
The first has been a firm favourite ever since York Brewery have been producing it every February and that is Nordic Fury
 A lovely warming red ale full of soft bite and a touch of sweetness that dances through the malts and flows beautifully over the tongue.
The I tried Smoked Porter, one of York Brewery's Great Walls of Fire to celebrate the brewery's opening 20 years ago.
I was surprised to find it malty brown rather than stout black but the hops that had been smoked before they flavoured the beer did not disappoint, and I could almost smell the smoke in my hair from the bonfire, and taste the rich treacle parkin in its glowing heat. A very, very nice pint.
Thank you for recommending it to me my friend.
But my third area of balance lies in my active imagination.
What words do I start with?
What stories to I continue with?
What tales do I transcribe in to typed writing that others can read?
And all the other projects in my head that throw me in to dithering indecision until the day has ended and I have managed to do nothing yet again.
Yes, I am a hopeless case, but I am going to, with the groans of my sister still ringing in my ears, try and write a poem every day after pancake day.
I will blog them, however bad they are, and they will be bad.
This is the fourth or fifth year I have tried this and never quite managed it. Work has always got in the way.
But now I have made this a very public challenge, who knows how far I will get.
We shall all have to wait and see.
Thank you for reading  xx

Moon Dragons

Well I have managed another week, but it was warm, and I didn't ache quite so much. Maybe I am not so abnormal, all those times I crawled down the stairs, not in pain but in stiffness, only too cold at home for my muscles to relax fully.
Something I shall have to keep an eye on.
There are more folk going, but not my friend, who has discovered she cannot make the Bollywood dance class. A shame, because I think she would have loved it, and the pizza night is still on with a bollywood movie at its centre, I just cannot eat as much as everyone else.
But that works for me. Helps keep me trimmer in the long run.
(Trimmer? It will be along time before I ever reach the correct level of trim but at least I am giving it a go!)
But I have had better news.
I have had my own gig in my flat, (not sure what the neighbours though of the deep base as it echoed through the floor boards) and it was only one song but it was written for me and it was ace.
It is hard to describe but in a few weeks I won't have to, as I will pop a link to the short film of "Dragons on the Moon" for everyone to look and listen.
I am so proud and frankly amazed that my small idea, along with a few lines of poor poetry on my part could be turned into such a flabbergastingly great piece of music.
I look forward to the result, as I hope you do too.
Thank you for reading xx

No week five.

I am sorry.
I missed it.
There was no week five for me, and so, no pizza at the end of week ten.
I bow my head in shame and sorrow at failing the challenge so soon after presenting it to the world.
But I did manage to enjoy my self this week, with the gyrating and the bouncing and the footwork that went every which way but the steps I was meant to be following.
And not too much ache for one who has missed a week of bollywood dance. I could still walk down the stairs an hour later, but my back is grumbling. (although that could be the extra hours I am putting in at work, but what can you do when people are sick.)
Enough of the moaning there.
I have had ale.
3 bottles in fact and Into Darkness movie. (Star Trek) A very enjoyable film that lead me to wondering where the franchise universe would go now, after everything has changed, and everything is different. Star trek could be rewritten in so many ways now and I know there is a lot of fiction out there exploring this idea already, but my mind doesn't run that way. Luck to those that do.
Well I have mentioned ale, and 3 of them, 2 of which I can mark up in my belated Xmas pressie as I have had Wells Bombardier and Black Sheep. For some reason Wytchwoods Hobgoblin isn't mentioned in a book of 170 ales and 40 pubs around Britain.
I won't manage all the pubs, there isn't even a York pub mentioned which I think is a grave admission but I could just about manage all 170 ales. Considering I have tried around a third of them in the past. And they have Rudgates Ruby Mild, one of my all time favourites.
Well I have 320 odd days to try and find the rest and drink them which is a reasonable amount of ale in one year.
Will I manage it? If the ales come to York I will, if not? Oh well, there is always next year.
(This blog sounded so much better in my head as I walked home from my sisters. AndIi have a piece of advice from that walk. Don't walk too far in steel toe cap shoes, they eat the heels of your socks.)
Thank you for reading this rambling piece.
xx