Recovery Regime

Since my near death experience I have been advised by doctors to take a couple of months off work. The office job in London and moving house had forced me to over burden myself with pressure . This led to the near death episode however I am not ready to write that up yet.
My self imposed recovery regime has saved my dog too. You may recall I mentioned he had jumped up at a few strangers, bitten the arm of a gypsy who cornered my girlfriend and a few other misdemeanours. We thought he may be too wild to live in our society. I couldn't stand the thought of him being euthanised. So taking two months off to bond and school him was a lucky part of my minor breakdown.
Dook is a Siberian husky cross German shepherd, the same as tex was and they are not far from wolves. They haven't had the wildness bred out of them. And they need a fuck of a lot of exercise.
We wake at 4.30 as its getting light then get out for the sunrise. We walk through the empty streets, through the two parks and out to Vallis. Vallis is an area with a river flowing through a mass of woodland. Paths run through it, so many it will take years to learn. The cliffs where I photographed a female peregrine has graffiti from Stonehenge festival 82 and a local tradition sees teenagers camping out over night in various spots. Our first walk we saw a young lad with a blanket and his arms around two girls, talking them down from a bad trip. But apart from these odd trippers it is empty of people before 7 and we are there not long after 5am. Near the entrance where the peregrines nest I have camped myself a few times, once arranging a freinds stag party round a fire there.
As you get deeper in the river has dippers peppering the rocks and the river is excellent for crayfish. I have seen the odd local who still knows how to trap this tasty treat.
Further down you come to various bridges where it meets the river frome and old ruins of lime kilns are here and there with remnants of rail tracks that the observant eye can see. Rock faces steer the walker left up to great elm or left in to thick tangled undergrowth. Here we cross the river and follow smaller paths.
One we followed yesterday took us to a little shrine to a lad called Jack who must have suicided there. Various notes and dried flowers reveal he was well loved.
Turning back we follow a track that brings you out on to higher ground. Here a footpath that can't have been used leads out on to the Mells road, then you can turn left and hit the nunnery road. But we tend to carry on down, back to the entrance to Vallis and follow the road to Vallis Farm then take the path that leads directly up the hill past a vast horse chestnut. A vast rabbit warren has Dook pulling me about until we reach the top fields. By this time the odd dog walker is out and these last two fields  take us to broadway and the old post office. I lived there for a while but found myself short on the rent. I asked for two weeks grace and in the five years since then I would never have had missed deadline again. But the landlord, mark I believe they called him was heavily dictated to by Caro, his wife and I agreed to leave so long as I could have my deposit. Caro and mark reneged on our gentlemens agreement and stole the deposit. Over the years since then I have seen it unoccupied and advertised to rent on several occasions. They must have lost at least a years rent through pure greed and their inability to wait a fortnight for their rent.
We walk down broadway then turn left and cut across the two parks. After two and a half hours walking Dook still chases the other dogs in play around the park. Seven miles or more he's done and he can still outrun the local dogs.
Then the last few streets and we are home. Breakfast and a sleep.
The routine will soon be changing as I will be returning to light work. I am making windows for the small cottage I live in. All the wood I have is mahogany so, under the paint will be hand made windows that will last a hundred years.
I am feeling much better.

The trials of an ex alcoholic

When I look back at my drinking years, some 12 years ago now I find it difficult to understand why a person would do that to themselves. A freind walked past me in frome yesterday who looks like he still drinks, or worse and he didn't even recognise me for some seconds. His misty eyes focused and his immediate next thought was to ask for money. I gave him a small amount of change. There is nothing I can do to help. Old freinds, eh?

Please be patient

Skree is recovering from a near death experience. The medical services are monitoring his progress. He says he can't wait to tell the story of what happened.