December 2023

30th

I am awake at 1am, having problems sleeping. I've lit an open log fire within the farmhouse study room, so I am warm, and not disturbing Charlie who is getting up for work in a mere few hours. My mind is noisy; this happens when I have visited places, these auditory hallucinations are environmentally triggered, so I theorise they are related to corresponding traumas I've incurred during the last thirteen years, since the auditory hallucinations began. I also suffer from tinnitus, high pitch metallic hissing in my ears; which can be abysmal at times, significantly after eating sugary foods and drinks.

The warmth of the fire is a luxury for me, after years of roaming through rain, wind and snow; too anxious to rest, yet too tired to walk. That numbness hasn't left me, the companionship I now have seems real, but at times becomes unreal; the long reach of self-worth is a hard grasp when emerging from being psychologically terrorised into a catatonic state of selflessness. I feel much hatred to those who have inflicted such a disparity upon me; because I know they'll never be any forgiveness from me unto them; because I was rendered inconsolable, for years, until I could not figure humanity as being real.

The weather is strange, this afternoon I risen to a view of somewhere between rain and snow. Last night there was no wind, the wooden farm gates were frozen, yet the temprature was only -2c; this morning snow clouds have filled the sky, yet not sleet but rain is falling onto the ground. The farmhouse was freezing, I cannot remember the coldness being so sharp, perhaps this is because of sickness, or from climatising to my central heated flat. The farm uses expensive heating oil, around £420-520 to fill the heating oil tank. We've almost run out of this oil by late December and the cold is here until April.

This afternoon we visted William Lockie knitwear shop, after days of searching the internet I decided to purchase locally and found a wool fair isle cardigan in Hawick for £125. If we cannot afford heating oil, I'm going to purchase warm clothing. Next year I plan to spin yarn and knit my own shetland / fair isles cardigans and jumpers; I have ten teeswater fleeces, sheered last year to begin this with. We also visited Kelso, there are more shops in this town, I appreciated the Christmas tree in the square. I was glad to return to Hawick, this Scottish Borders town has slowly become valid enough to be my home.

28th

Considering the contempt of inhumane isolation I've been placed into, I know the political right to despise me as much as the left but isn't all politics bad right? I write what I know to be true, and what readers need to know; regardless of ostracising contempt otherwise known as partisan tollerance. At midnight, I baked Charlie another fruit cake; he was very contented with a previous fruit cake I baked for him.

The toffee smell of the dried fruit cooking with water, butter and sugar is warming. I poured mixed fruit, butter and sugar from a pan into a bowl containing flour, baking power and mixed spice.

Whisked eggs were added to the mixture. I tried to keep the mobile phone shadow from the picture but failed when I became preoccupied; multitasking became blured after suffering cPTSD, GAD; weird that I was unaware of BPD until I was diagnosed with it but then what is darkness to light?

I'm using a cake tin that pops off at the bottom. This cake was in the oven at 160-170 for one hour twenty minutes before the inserted knife came out clean. The smaller oven at my flat bakes very diffrently to the older oven at the farmhouse.

I'm proud of my baking, but wouldn't feel upset at criticism. Fruit cake is loaded with energy that Charlie requires to do his farm work during these dark cold winter months; I know the cake is a success when I see him perked up in stature, bearing a smile on his face. This cake is appears visibly different to the previous cake, which was too dry in texture.

27th

I've not seen the River Teviot flow so fast and rise so high as I did today.

These photographs were taken at dusk, late afternoon.

Police had closed the quiet lane to Roberton was at the end of Wilton park.

This depth of water on the road was no problem for our 4x4.

Charlie pulled the 4x4 over enabling me to take a span of this classic tractor pictured below.

We are purchased pizza's from Morrisons rather than Dominos, a multinational franchise that recently opened in Hawick.

26th

Sure is cold this morning, ice on the 4x4 bonnet and window screen has made such a pretty pattern.

Charlie is nursing his hangover ho hum.

Sam enjoying the woodland, Charlie bought him indoors and gave him a bath on Christmas day.

In the afternoon we enjoyed a walk through the Craik Forest. Digital cameras always have trouble with forest pictures.

25th

Walking Sam the sheepdog, Charlie picked up what was left of a huge firecracker that had been lit and exploded upon our farmhouse paddock. Encroaching enablers let off, every week, these fireworks, for years. Seems out here in the stark, windswept wilderness is not beyond spite driven reach of clenched fist hatred, terrorising the innocence of our lambs. Nobody lets off fireworks here, not even on bonfire night. Almost everybody that lives within this beautiful Borthwick valley are farmers and / or are from farming families.

I like this Germanic folk song.

O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum
Wie treu sind deine Blätter!
Du glänzt nicht nur
Zur Sommerzeit
Nein, auch im Winter, wenn es schneit.
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum
Wie treu sind deine Blätter!
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum!
Du kannst mir sehr gefallen!
Wie oft hat nicht zur Winterzeit
Ein Baum von dir mich hoch erfreut!
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum!
Du kannst mir sehr gefallen!
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum!
Dein Kleid will mich
Was lehren:
Die Hoffnung und Bestndigkeit
Gibt Trost und Kraft
Zu jeder Zeit.
O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum!
Das soll dein Kleid
Mich lehren.

Quiet apt living next to a forest.

Charlie is tired today, I slept in until 1pm, and I am thankful to undisturbed rest for passing the morning, because being near auspicious festivity incurs anxiety and panic, exactly the psychological effect the enablers wanted to inflict. Splitting kindling with a bill hook, I noticed just how wet this Christmas actually is, the most soggy I've ever seen. I failed to fetch Sam from his kennel and into the farmhouse, but will talk to Charlie later about bringing him in and bathing him.

24th

Yesterday, Charlie purchased the flock in the polytunnel another nutritional lick bucket; early this morning, the flock is appearing comfortable and contented chewing cud. They finished the last lick bucket in just one week, Donna the cade ewe lamb (I named her after STASI news presenter Donna Birrell) was unhappy with the empty lick bucket being taken away; perhaps indirectly requesting a replacement bucket. I got Charlie to purchase more bird food, I've enjoyed their presence about the garden this month. Ewes are noticeably in lamb.

With shooting season happening, we have three male pheasants visiting the farmhouse for chaff leftovers. The partridge family has not returned this winter, after attacking me some months ago; although I have seen them, pass by, over the paddock adjacent to the farmhouse. Seasonal changes appear more visible here in the Scottish Borders, lately I've noticed the grass has stopped growing, in the winter, there is no gardening, as little, of anything appears to grow. Charlie has been foraging in the vegetable garden this morning, on this occasion he has pulled out a dozen parsnips; and one very small carrot; he claims this is because these root vegetables were planted late in the year.

I asked a neighbour if he'd made any Scottish friends since he moved to the Scottish Borders from Middlesborough three years ago. He's a friendly, sociable guy, so I was surprised when he replied that nobody from here had befriended him other than a Polish bar maid; says gets on well with Polish people. Charlie has not made any Scottish friend either, he's been in the Borders 11 years; I've been living here thirteen months and not made any Scottish friends. As a matter of note, I mean friends, not acquaintances, or people liasoning in a professional capacity. I know there is historic anti-English sentiment here, and a few Scottish people would be proud to have not befriended an English person.

This afternoon we received bad news of Charlie's employer catching COVID-19, he's old and now bedridden isolated on Christmas Eve; we're also feeling under the weather this afternoon; I am hoping this is psychosomatic, but Charlie is feeling chesty and hot today. Charlie is double vaccinated, but I ask how has this made a difference other than kill more people? COVID-19 has been around three years, and I've never caught it; although just before the pandemic, I was so sick, my lungs rattled so much that the general practitioner prescribed an venalin inhaler; despite never before suffering asthma; after a week I recovered.

23rd

If I were to write my thoughts unrestrained, I'd be arrested and prosecuted; this website has been self-censored and redacted. When writing a blog it's important to know that enablers detest your opinions, so keep posts historically factual, and align facts into maximum devastating exposures. You don't have to commit to any wrong doing to be annihilated, existing is enough for them to alienate you hapless. My entire family has completely blanked me for over a decade; including my brother, yet I've not wronged him. He is my only surviving family member, (I'm childless, have no other siblings, both parents dead) and has refused any contact since 2013.

Yesterday, after a conversation with Charlie, I warned my neighbour of the presence of otters around the burn; he thanked me, not aware of the extra danger to his nesting hens. Yesterday I realised after watching a video reel of a cade lamb, whilst nearing the mature age of fifty, that memories can cultivate fondness with time. Why has it taken this long to feel, even be aware of this human emotion, where have we, as a people, been maligned and dispossessed of our sanctities to have allowed this to happen; by not even being able to figure this as actually happening to us.

21st

Other than opening the door for the gas man to service my boiler, and to talk to a visiting support worker, I've been bedridden the entire day, falling through the floor with pernicious anaemia.

20th

A mother ewe that died on the 14th is still waiting at the farmhouse to be picked up by the knacker man on the 20th.

Last week, it took the knacker man four weeks to collect a dead mother ewe; I am worried that this very swollen ewe will explode soon. We now suspect Rhododendron to have killed this mother ewe.

18th

Planned to walk into Hawick town centre but became bedridden unwell during late morning. Other than B12, I am aware there is an underlying condition resulting in my suffering anaemia. I'm suspecting this continuation of sickness to be related to folate; other than damage already incurred, then maybe a more serious medical condition.

My health improved as the anaemic paleness from my skin lifted unto red during the afternoon, enough for me to play carpet bowls during the evening. We played "skill sets"; Charlie enjoyed the games, I was left bewildered after not coming last, but thought everybody a winner, as all the skill sets were completed by all the players.