Cold downstairs today, but warm upstairs this evening. I didn't use last week's prepared workshop, so I've got that for tomorrow. My P45 arrived in the post from New College Durham. Saying yes to working for them was one of the smartest moves I made. Resigning before things got unmanageable was also one of the smartest moves I made. This morning, I upped the weight on my physio by 125%. I managed the reps, but reckon I'm overdoing it and should ease back to about 60% increase and stay with it till Christmas… There are dozens of gaps to fill in my diary. Fingers crossed, I can find all the stray entries in notebooks and the time to copy them up. Big protein intake today. About 120 grams. Tuna and chicken. 11.33pm.
Tuesday 2nd December 2025
Today's Waddington Street Centre writing workshop went well. We used unexpected starts to stories, letters to strangers, and read a poem called 'Chewed Mittens' by Dorothy Nelson with analysis by Alison Chisholm. We wrote absurd character sketches based on the NaPoWriMo exercise Burt Reynolds. Mine was about Raffles AKA Anthony Valentine… I bought groceries in Durham and was home by quarter to five. I had baked beans and hot salad with grilled beef steak… Tonight I uploaded Poetry Jam pics and made a promo photo album for Joan Johnston's pamphlet, The Lay-by. I finished the night with shoulder exercises. More weight than last week, but not as much as I tried yesterday. One heavier exercise is okay. But not a full session. OK. 11.53pm.
Wednesday 3rd December 2025
A day off to buy stuff online for other people and ride the bike. I went down by the River Derwent, along to the pump house, up the gravel path towards Stinky Burn, then over the old slag heaps. I crossed the main road and carried on, made a right turn on the cycle path then over the Hownsgill viaduct. I kept going past Rowley and out near Castleside. Further on, I took another right, down a steep hill, and up the other side through the woods to Muggleswick, then on to Edmundbyers. I missed out the Derwent Reservoir, rode down the A68 to Allensford, then through woods to the pump house, and up to Consett for two jars of pickled shallots from Barry’s Bargain Superstore… I ate chicken and curried beans with baked potato for tea… I ordered a ticket to see Jarboe (ex-Swans) next May. I hope it’s a better set than last time… I bought some Christmas presents and some toner cartridges. I printed out a Jessie Lynn McMain's zine. Ate lots of peanuts and sultanas. 11.42pm.
Thursday 4th December 2025
Really tired. Didn't want to do much of anything. Didn't get out of the house until half two. Bus was late. Got to Durham about 20 to 4 this afternoon. Went into town for sweet mince pies for Poetry Jam. Bought some tuna as well. A new boiler is being installed in the Waddy kitchen, so Dave Boyd showed me how to use the temporary alternative. Took about 40 minutes to set up the room. Managed to lift chairs okay with dodgy bicep, but aching a bit afterwards. We had over 20 people in the lounge tonight. All the guests were great, all could have been headliners. Annie Moir had some flirty food poetry and well-wishes for bookish souls. Gary the Hat addressed the rights and wrongs of the world in punk rhyme. Elaine Cusack did new poems from her University course. She graduates tomorrow. Great open floor readers: Tony Gadd, Aaron Wright, Ian Martin, Ian Hart, Ivy Hudson, amongst others. Took me over an hour to clear up afterwards. I'm still at Waddy now. No bus till after eleven. OK. 10.55pm.
Tuesday 2nd December 2025
Today's Waddington Street Centre writing workshop went well. We used unexpected starts to stories, letters to strangers, and read a poem called 'Chewed Mittens' by Dorothy Nelson with analysis by Alison Chisholm. We wrote absurd character sketches based on the NaPoWriMo exercise Burt Reynolds. Mine was about Raffles AKA Anthony Valentine… I bought groceries in Durham and was home by quarter to five. I had baked beans and hot salad with grilled beef steak… Tonight I uploaded Poetry Jam pics and made a promo photo album for Joan Johnston's pamphlet, The Lay-by. I finished the night with shoulder exercises. More weight than last week, but not as much as I tried yesterday. One heavier exercise is okay. But not a full session. OK. 11.53pm.
Wednesday 3rd December 2025
A day off to buy stuff online for other people and ride the bike. I went down by the River Derwent, along to the pump house, up the gravel path towards Stinky Burn, then over the old slag heaps. I crossed the main road and carried on, made a right turn on the cycle path then over the Hownsgill viaduct. I kept going past Rowley and out near Castleside. Further on, I took another right, down a steep hill, and up the other side through the woods to Muggleswick, then on to Edmundbyers. I missed out the Derwent Reservoir, rode down the A68 to Allensford, then through woods to the pump house, and up to Consett for two jars of pickled shallots from Barry’s Bargain Superstore… I ate chicken and curried beans with baked potato for tea… I ordered a ticket to see Jarboe (ex-Swans) next May. I hope it’s a better set than last time… I bought some Christmas presents and some toner cartridges. I printed out a Jessie Lynn McMain's zine. Ate lots of peanuts and sultanas. 11.42pm.
Thursday 4th December 2025
Really tired. Didn't want to do much of anything. Didn't get out of the house until half two. Bus was late. Got to Durham about 20 to 4 this afternoon. Went into town for sweet mince pies for Poetry Jam. Bought some tuna as well. A new boiler is being installed in the Waddy kitchen, so Dave Boyd showed me how to use the temporary alternative. Took about 40 minutes to set up the room. Managed to lift chairs okay with dodgy bicep, but aching a bit afterwards. We had over 20 people in the lounge tonight. All the guests were great, all could have been headliners. Annie Moir had some flirty food poetry and well-wishes for bookish souls. Gary the Hat addressed the rights and wrongs of the world in punk rhyme. Elaine Cusack did new poems from her University course. She graduates tomorrow. Great open floor readers: Tony Gadd, Aaron Wright, Ian Martin, Ian Hart, Ivy Hudson, amongst others. Took me over an hour to clear up afterwards. I'm still at Waddy now. No bus till after eleven. OK. 10.55pm.
Friday 5th December 2025
Woke up feeling okay and chuffed to see a decent forecast for the day right up until dusk. I did morning pages and physio, then rang Waddy about the cash tin keys, which I accidentally left in my pocket. I was told there are spares so it’s okay just to return on Tuesday. Yet another absent-minded episode. My memory is shit. I remember very little incoming data. But can spew out my own self-generated bile quite easily… This afternoon I rode the Rockhopper bike along some gloopy trails, then over to High Spen via Chopwell. Then back to Consett via the Derwent Walk… Tonight I got my work log and gratitude journals up to date, but my main diary has over 100 blanks to copy up from stray notebooks. I'll have to do four a day to complete the book by Christmas. 11.18pm.
Saturday 6th December 2025
Mornings are difficult these days. It's about eleven before I finish exercises, physical and mental, to keep me feeling reasonably okay. I went out at midday to start Christmas shopping and get food supplies. Eight and a half hours later, I put away the last of my tinned goods. Then tallied the financial damage. I'm spending over twice as much on food as five years ago. Arms aching from lugging stuff about. Pleased to be done with it for today. OK. 11.24pm.
Woke up feeling okay and chuffed to see a decent forecast for the day right up until dusk. I did morning pages and physio, then rang Waddy about the cash tin keys, which I accidentally left in my pocket. I was told there are spares so it’s okay just to return on Tuesday. Yet another absent-minded episode. My memory is shit. I remember very little incoming data. But can spew out my own self-generated bile quite easily… This afternoon I rode the Rockhopper bike along some gloopy trails, then over to High Spen via Chopwell. Then back to Consett via the Derwent Walk… Tonight I got my work log and gratitude journals up to date, but my main diary has over 100 blanks to copy up from stray notebooks. I'll have to do four a day to complete the book by Christmas. 11.18pm.
Saturday 6th December 2025
Mornings are difficult these days. It's about eleven before I finish exercises, physical and mental, to keep me feeling reasonably okay. I went out at midday to start Christmas shopping and get food supplies. Eight and a half hours later, I put away the last of my tinned goods. Then tallied the financial damage. I'm spending over twice as much on food as five years ago. Arms aching from lugging stuff about. Pleased to be done with it for today. OK. 11.24pm.
Sunday 7th December 2025
Wrote a new eight-page poem this morning called December. I'll hold it back for a few months at least. Might release it as a limited-edition monograph. This afternoon, I made up notebooks for Tuesday's writing half-marathon. All the prompts are ready. Must buy new biros tomorrow. Ate a lot of chicken today. Stayed up later than intended. OK. 11.16pm.
Monday 8th December 2025
Today I got out on the bike for about an hour and a half, then got ready to go into Newcastle for festive shopping. It was surprisingly quiet. I got quite a lot done without getting stressed. I didn't get home till half seven. Had a big chicken and hot salad curry meal again. I've eaten way too many peanuts and sultanas… My left arm has been giving me jip all day. I'm considering getting back in touch with the physiotherapist. I think I've pulled or torn something else in my shoulder. I might leave it a couple of days… Today I bought a copy of "The Shit Ov God" by Polish extreme metal band Behemoth in a two-CDs-for-16-quid offer with an Alice Cooper Christmas gift purchase. 11.39pm.
Tuesday 9th December 2025
The weather was canny rotten this morning, so I'm chuffed that people made it down to Waddy for the half-marathon. We got through ten rounds of writing. It flowed well and everyone got some good stuff. I came straight home afterwards. I had a big beef steak with baked potato and pottage for tea. Then selected pamphlets for a little version of Jolabokaflod for the Friday writers. I did some copy-ups as well. Then watched A DARK SONG. A two-hander horror film recommended by Stephen Clark. It's about a woman seeking revenge for the murder of her son. She employs an occultist to help her perform the Abramelin ritual to invoke her guardian angel. It's quite slow, sinister, and very well done. Nothing like a Hollywood big-budget horror. Enjoyed it even more than Hereditary. 11.43pm.
Wednesday 10th December 2025
Out the house ten hours and only managed to buy three gifts for Christmas. Not really pleased with any of my purchases. The bus from Consett was late tonight, so I didn't get home till well after seven. I intended to do a lot of work. I intended to be home by about five. Good intentions shot to shit. I don't like December. I don't want to participate in the festive season ever again. I told Jenni this, and she seems to think the same. She bought us tickets to see Bill Bailey talk about his favourite films at Tyneside Cinema next January. I am keen to see more films in a similar vein to A Dark Song, which I thought was excellent. I saw lots of things I'd like to buy today. But nothing suitable for relatives. 11.29pm.
Thursday 11th December 2025
I don't like using telephones. I script my words for important calls. This morning, I was all set to speak when, to my annoyance, I found the landline to be dead. Luckily, after a bit of panic, I was able to go and deal with things in person. I bought a new phone, but the line is still dead – yet the internet works fine. I've been too busy to report a fault. I'll do it next week. I don't like using telephones. I mostly communicate via the internet. I got an email from Durham County Libraries inviting me to read at next year's Local Author Festival. I am well up for that. I will check my availability and get back to them early next week. Meanwhile, my final 2025 session with Washington Writers is all prepped. Half Marathon plus gifts and mince pies. Should be good. I'm all packed up, I've shaved, just need a good sleep. Hope tomorrow goes well. OK.10.53pm.
Friday 12th December 2025
Wrote a new eight-page poem this morning called December. I'll hold it back for a few months at least. Might release it as a limited-edition monograph. This afternoon, I made up notebooks for Tuesday's writing half-marathon. All the prompts are ready. Must buy new biros tomorrow. Ate a lot of chicken today. Stayed up later than intended. OK. 11.16pm.
Monday 8th December 2025
Today I got out on the bike for about an hour and a half, then got ready to go into Newcastle for festive shopping. It was surprisingly quiet. I got quite a lot done without getting stressed. I didn't get home till half seven. Had a big chicken and hot salad curry meal again. I've eaten way too many peanuts and sultanas… My left arm has been giving me jip all day. I'm considering getting back in touch with the physiotherapist. I think I've pulled or torn something else in my shoulder. I might leave it a couple of days… Today I bought a copy of "The Shit Ov God" by Polish extreme metal band Behemoth in a two-CDs-for-16-quid offer with an Alice Cooper Christmas gift purchase. 11.39pm.
Tuesday 9th December 2025
The weather was canny rotten this morning, so I'm chuffed that people made it down to Waddy for the half-marathon. We got through ten rounds of writing. It flowed well and everyone got some good stuff. I came straight home afterwards. I had a big beef steak with baked potato and pottage for tea. Then selected pamphlets for a little version of Jolabokaflod for the Friday writers. I did some copy-ups as well. Then watched A DARK SONG. A two-hander horror film recommended by Stephen Clark. It's about a woman seeking revenge for the murder of her son. She employs an occultist to help her perform the Abramelin ritual to invoke her guardian angel. It's quite slow, sinister, and very well done. Nothing like a Hollywood big-budget horror. Enjoyed it even more than Hereditary. 11.43pm.
Wednesday 10th December 2025
Out the house ten hours and only managed to buy three gifts for Christmas. Not really pleased with any of my purchases. The bus from Consett was late tonight, so I didn't get home till well after seven. I intended to do a lot of work. I intended to be home by about five. Good intentions shot to shit. I don't like December. I don't want to participate in the festive season ever again. I told Jenni this, and she seems to think the same. She bought us tickets to see Bill Bailey talk about his favourite films at Tyneside Cinema next January. I am keen to see more films in a similar vein to A Dark Song, which I thought was excellent. I saw lots of things I'd like to buy today. But nothing suitable for relatives. 11.29pm.
Thursday 11th December 2025
I don't like using telephones. I script my words for important calls. This morning, I was all set to speak when, to my annoyance, I found the landline to be dead. Luckily, after a bit of panic, I was able to go and deal with things in person. I bought a new phone, but the line is still dead – yet the internet works fine. I've been too busy to report a fault. I'll do it next week. I don't like using telephones. I mostly communicate via the internet. I got an email from Durham County Libraries inviting me to read at next year's Local Author Festival. I am well up for that. I will check my availability and get back to them early next week. Meanwhile, my final 2025 session with Washington Writers is all prepped. Half Marathon plus gifts and mince pies. Should be good. I'm all packed up, I've shaved, just need a good sleep. Hope tomorrow goes well. OK.10.53pm.
Friday 12th December 2025
Good turnout at Arts Centre Washington this lunchtime for our final writing workshop. A half-marathon. All the writers produced good stuff. Thanks to Kay and Alwyn for the Christmas gifts. I had a good time after the session at Waddington Street Centre for the party in the lounge. The buffet was amazing. I did karaoke on four songs with staff: Bo-Rap, 500 miles, Don't Stop Believin' and Hallelujah. Tony Gadd dropped by and kindly gave me a lift to Consett for the final "For Better Or Verse". No headliners this month but lots of open floor stuff. James Oates, Tony Gadd, Jenni Pascoe, Lorraine Weightman, David Rutherford, and lots more. Enjoyed lots of food. Thanks to Steve Wood and Melanie Bowman. I'm going to have to starve myself for the next few days. I need to get my landline sorted soon. I'm very tired now. Don't want to do much tomorrow. OK. 11.53pm.
Saturday 13th December 2025
Awake before eight. Listened to a few versions of Hallelujah after murdering it on karaoke last night at Waddington Street Centre. Rode for three hours on the old Rockhopper bike this afternoon: down the Derwent Walk to Rowlands Gill, up by Tesco on Station Road, then through High Spen and Chopwell. Then home via Ebchester and Shotley Bridge, and through the Grove wood. Admin for work, physio, then out to Jen's. OK. 10.52pm.
Sunday 14th December 2025
Up early to get stuff together for this afternoon’s ‘Quite Quiet’ gig at Tiny Toad in Heaton with Jonjo, Pabs and Co. Jenni came along and did a couple of poems as well. Tonight, we watched ‘The Holdover’ – a film set in an early seventies American private school over the Christmas holidays. Jenny ordered a big pizza with chips and onion rings. Now there's a ‘Thirty Best Ronnie Corbett Moments’ programme on TV. OK. 10.03pm.
Monday 15th December 2025
Listened to Vernon Kay Show on Radio 2 with Jenni. Shaved, got stuff together and out to Newcastle. I bought more fancy biscuits to give as gifts. I managed to get a few more things in Consett Tesco. Ate tuna and curried beans with baked potato for tea. Made up a new morning pages notebook and wrapped up a couple of things for Waddy. Only four cards to write for tomorrow. Ate lots of peanuts today. No Over Fifties exercises for nearly a week. I'll be pleased when Christmas is over. OK. 11.10pm.
Tuesday 16th December 2025
Pleased to reach the end of my workshops. Repeated a few things from earlier in the year. We did daisy chains. We did 30 one-liners, like Joe Brainard. We did 10 images from the last 24 hours in 10 minutes. We did readarounds of Marathon work. And we looked at research tips for haunted-house writing (ghosts of Christmas and all). On the way home, I stopped off at Tesco for more Christmas presents, then I had a lush hot chicken salad with baked potato. Checked the presents, then back out to Consett for more. I did my Over Fifties exercise. Will do physio just before bed. OK. 11.33pm.
Wednesday 17th December 2025
A long day in which I got little done. I copied up some gaps in the diary, but lots more to do. Spoke to Mam on the phone. Then went out to town this afternoon. Spent another fifty-five quid or so. Think I've got all the stuff needed for family. I wanted to read this evening but fell asleep on the couch for an hour. Increased the weight on my physio exercises by a mere 100 grams. Bigger increments aggravate tendons. OK. 11.00pm.
Saturday 13th December 2025
Awake before eight. Listened to a few versions of Hallelujah after murdering it on karaoke last night at Waddington Street Centre. Rode for three hours on the old Rockhopper bike this afternoon: down the Derwent Walk to Rowlands Gill, up by Tesco on Station Road, then through High Spen and Chopwell. Then home via Ebchester and Shotley Bridge, and through the Grove wood. Admin for work, physio, then out to Jen's. OK. 10.52pm.
Sunday 14th December 2025
Up early to get stuff together for this afternoon’s ‘Quite Quiet’ gig at Tiny Toad in Heaton with Jonjo, Pabs and Co. Jenni came along and did a couple of poems as well. Tonight, we watched ‘The Holdover’ – a film set in an early seventies American private school over the Christmas holidays. Jenny ordered a big pizza with chips and onion rings. Now there's a ‘Thirty Best Ronnie Corbett Moments’ programme on TV. OK. 10.03pm.
Monday 15th December 2025
Listened to Vernon Kay Show on Radio 2 with Jenni. Shaved, got stuff together and out to Newcastle. I bought more fancy biscuits to give as gifts. I managed to get a few more things in Consett Tesco. Ate tuna and curried beans with baked potato for tea. Made up a new morning pages notebook and wrapped up a couple of things for Waddy. Only four cards to write for tomorrow. Ate lots of peanuts today. No Over Fifties exercises for nearly a week. I'll be pleased when Christmas is over. OK. 11.10pm.
Tuesday 16th December 2025
Pleased to reach the end of my workshops. Repeated a few things from earlier in the year. We did daisy chains. We did 30 one-liners, like Joe Brainard. We did 10 images from the last 24 hours in 10 minutes. We did readarounds of Marathon work. And we looked at research tips for haunted-house writing (ghosts of Christmas and all). On the way home, I stopped off at Tesco for more Christmas presents, then I had a lush hot chicken salad with baked potato. Checked the presents, then back out to Consett for more. I did my Over Fifties exercise. Will do physio just before bed. OK. 11.33pm.
Wednesday 17th December 2025
A long day in which I got little done. I copied up some gaps in the diary, but lots more to do. Spoke to Mam on the phone. Then went out to town this afternoon. Spent another fifty-five quid or so. Think I've got all the stuff needed for family. I wanted to read this evening but fell asleep on the couch for an hour. Increased the weight on my physio exercises by a mere 100 grams. Bigger increments aggravate tendons. OK. 11.00pm.
Thursday 18th December 2025
Morning pages are getting harder and harder to write these days. Still eating tuna, banana, pickled shallots and sultanas for breakfast. But don't do physio until late evening. Today I had a short ride up to Blackhill and Consett, then through Knitsley and back to Castleside via the back roads. Took things easy. Didn't break a sweat. Enjoyed it. This afternoon I started the Christmas wrapping. Six hours for 17 or 18 presents and still have tags to put on them. Scrolled vid clips - politics, biketrial, The Cure, The Cult, The Mission, Motorhead, Saxon, The Banshees. Then my Over Fifties basic exercises. I'd like to read in bed but will probably just fall asleep. 10.02pm.
Friday 19th December 2025
Tagged Mam and Ernie's presents. Posted a couple of cards. Accepted BBC Upload invitation to talk in the studio on Monday. After dinner, I was out in Consett getting some supplies and a couple more presents. I talked to Jen on the phone this evening. Printed out notes for the interview and made a copy of ‘Failed Rock Star’ pamphlet for my archive. I ordered a copy of the novel How Saints Die by Carmen Marcus, who is running a Change The Story course at Waddington Street Centre next year. Oh, and I've been booked to do two gigs for the Festival of Local Authors tour in Bowburn and Consett libraries. OK. 10.46pm.
Saturday 20th December 2025
Tagged and packed Jen's presents, then went out on the Rockhopper. Tried to get a copy of Shotley Bridge Murders by Bobby Cussens at Wotnots in Shotley Bridge, but it’s sold out. Will try again after Christmas. Had baked potato with tuna and beans for tea. Walked to Consett bus station, then got a 47-bus to Jen's. Had nice spicy chips and watched the game shows. OK. 10.45pm.
Sunday 21st December 2025
Morning pages are getting harder and harder to write these days. Still eating tuna, banana, pickled shallots and sultanas for breakfast. But don't do physio until late evening. Today I had a short ride up to Blackhill and Consett, then through Knitsley and back to Castleside via the back roads. Took things easy. Didn't break a sweat. Enjoyed it. This afternoon I started the Christmas wrapping. Six hours for 17 or 18 presents and still have tags to put on them. Scrolled vid clips - politics, biketrial, The Cure, The Cult, The Mission, Motorhead, Saxon, The Banshees. Then my Over Fifties basic exercises. I'd like to read in bed but will probably just fall asleep. 10.02pm.
Friday 19th December 2025
Tagged Mam and Ernie's presents. Posted a couple of cards. Accepted BBC Upload invitation to talk in the studio on Monday. After dinner, I was out in Consett getting some supplies and a couple more presents. I talked to Jen on the phone this evening. Printed out notes for the interview and made a copy of ‘Failed Rock Star’ pamphlet for my archive. I ordered a copy of the novel How Saints Die by Carmen Marcus, who is running a Change The Story course at Waddington Street Centre next year. Oh, and I've been booked to do two gigs for the Festival of Local Authors tour in Bowburn and Consett libraries. OK. 10.46pm.
Saturday 20th December 2025
Tagged and packed Jen's presents, then went out on the Rockhopper. Tried to get a copy of Shotley Bridge Murders by Bobby Cussens at Wotnots in Shotley Bridge, but it’s sold out. Will try again after Christmas. Had baked potato with tuna and beans for tea. Walked to Consett bus station, then got a 47-bus to Jen's. Had nice spicy chips and watched the game shows. OK. 10.45pm.
Sunday 21st December 2025
In Gateshead this morning for Christmas supplies for the big house. Me and Jen had pie, mash and broccoli for a late dinner. Lebkuchen as well. Poems and karaoke tonight at Little Buildings for Cooper Robson's ‘Poetmas’ event. A good gathering of NE poets. I read Fail Satan. Me and Jen tried Barbie Girl. I wrecked Sinead O’Connor’s version of I Am Stretched on Your Grave. Jenni did an ace All That Jazz. OK. 10.43pm.
Monday 22nd December 2025
Had a good time being interviewed by Emma Millen for BBC Upload this afternoon. It was meant to be 10 minutes, but I babbled a lot, so it was closer to half an hour. She asked how I got into writing, got me to read three poems – The Dark House, Snow and Fail Satan – and talk about workshops. Afterwards, I went to HMV, Waterstones and Damaged Society. Then back to Jen’s for an hour. Fell asleep. Busy bus home – stuffed full. Discovered Ernie's birthday card, which I wrote out and placed with his present a few days ago, has disappeared. Will buy another and post it. Did physio and copy-ups. Ready for bed. 11.28pm.
Tuesday 23rd December 2025
Mam and Ernie visited today. We all went to my sister's house to deliver presents. Then I packed a big case for tomorrow’s journey to Jen’s. My guts are rumbling. Full of trapped wind. I did my Over Fifties exercises early this evening. I started to watch a horror film called ‘Saint Maud’ but fell asleep. I did, however, manage to wake up in time to see the last minute, thus spoiling it for next time. If I can get rid of this hot air, I might be able to do physio before bed. I hope the buses are running well tomorrow. OK.11.42pm.
Wednesday 24th December 2025
Woke about six. Up before seven and downstairs to do morning pages. Had my usual tuna and banana with pickled shallots and sultanas. Then out on the old Rockhopper hybrid bike. Rode over the slack heaps then back along the lane to Lydgetts Junction and along the cycle path to Rowley and home. I did some physio and extra shoulder exercises. The buses to Gateshead were fairly quiet. Got to Jen's place quite early. Dropped off some stuff then back out to Newcastle: HMV, Damaged Society and Waterstones. Bought some reduced-price bread in Heron Foods and a few things in Tesco on the way back. Watched a good Doctor Who spin-off about water pollution. Very warm tonight. 11.25pm.
Thursday 25th December 2025
It was good to just wander around Eldon Square yesterday afternoon. I'd arrived in Gateshead before two, much to Jenni 's surprise: "WHAAAAT! I've not started wrapping yet. There may be things in the room you shouldn't see." So I just went out for a few hours. The shops were open till five. Some of them, Heron Foods and Tesco, even later. So there were plenty of places to go. I checked out the horror DVDs in HMV. Still no more of the fifteen films recommended by Fangoria magazine. I reckon it'll take me a year to work through that list. And even longer for all the books I have lined up.
HOW SAINTS DIE the novel by Carmen Marcus arrived five days early. It was hanging out the letterbox, over the doormat, when I got back from my little bike ride yesterday.
I'm enjoying the winter cycling a lot more than I thought I would. It's actually more about just having the discipline to stick to the routine of getting into the bike clothes on a cold morning and getting the bike outside and rolling away from Moorside. The rides don't have to be epic. They just have to be regular. I managed a full physio session as well. I think the left shoulder is going to ache in cold weather now no matter what I do.
On Tuesday, Ernie was wearing a wrist splint for driving due to arthritis. Mam says she has to wear them in bed. I dread to think what I'll need should I reach 80 years plus. I can't see it myself though.
I had another look at Julia Cameron's Write for Life book. I am tempted, but I reckon a lot of it will be the same as The Artist's Way and The Right to Write. I'll look again before the new year starts.
How Saints Die by Carmen Marcus will be my first attempt at reading a novel for a long time, but I’ll try to stick with it coz I want to familiarise myself with some of her work while she's facilitating with Josie Brookes at Waddington Street Centre for six weeks.
One of the things they are focusing on is junk journals – which are pretty close to perzines. So I'll be sure to take Julia Eff, Jessie Lynn McMains and Trace Ramsay publications to the first session, which is the day after my first workshop of the year with Waddy writers.
I think I'll use some ‘personal zine’ examples in my workshop. And maybe a few pages from Henry Rollins Talks which is the book that got me into journaling in the first place. I could gather all my 2025 notebooks and photograph the pile. I could photograph the 12 pamphlets in 12 months from 2023. And I could take the opening pages from Post Office by Charles Bukowski and some poems from Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame, as well as a couple of vignettes by Joolz Denby, and Holiday on Death Row by Roger McGough. I will take a bunch of warm-up exercises and look at the format of a perzine, including fodder graphics. I'd like to show how zine culture has permeated conventional publishing. I should have taken photos of the recipe spreads in the little kids' witchcraft book I bought for Jen's mam. I'm sure I can find other examples. The cover of Black Coffee Blues by Rollins in the Virgin Books edition, perhaps. I might take in my deluxe Anomalies as well. All of this for the first session back? And I could take my first handmade book There Are Easier Ways of Living than Bleeding to Death. And Exile magazine that contains The Milk Bottle, my first ever published piece. That magazine, coincidentally, was based in Saltburn where Carmen lives.
The big house is very quiet. I went downstairs to fill the five-litre water bottle for the day and couldn't hear any movement on the middle or ground floors. When I passed through the huge living room to the kitchen, all the bags of presents from around the tree had gone. Jen said people were heading out early. As I write this, sat on a black drawstring bag on the attic landing, I think I can hear voices from the floor below. For some, the big day hasn't yet started in the big house. Jenni is still asleep. I am in the mood to go out for a walk around the block for ten minutes or so.
Many years ago, when I was very focused on biketrial, I did a stretch of one hundred and eighteen days without fail on my Saracen MAD trials bike. Even on Christmas morning, staying at my mam's house in Bishop Auckland, I was up before dawn and dressed to ride. I went down to the town centre and hopped about on some huge concrete blocks edging a car park off the main high street.
A few weeks later, after months of sub-zero morning training sessions, my MAD frame cracked at the seat stays. Luckily, my Zoo Pitbull frame and fork were on the way.
I loved those early starts on the bike. Now, I wake with multiple aches. But can still get out on local trails. I can still form sentences on paper. I am fairly optimistic about the future.
Have a good one. OK. 9.42am.
Friday 26th December 2025
I read most of ‘Get Over Yourself’ poems by Leanne Moden this morning. Me and Jenni had spicy chips in pitta bread pockets. Only a couple of shops were open this afternoon. Bought a few supplies in Tesco but forgot the peanuts. We had Christmas pudding with vanilla custard for tea. Spoke to Mam and Ernie on the phone. Watched Big Fat Quiz of the Year and other game shows. Cheese and crackers for snacks. Then banana on toast for supper. Hope I haven't gained much weight. Tomorrow I might buy a new diary. OK. 11.24pm.
Saturday 27th December 2025
Me and Jenni took another walk into town this afternoon. Got a decent black t-shirt for £1.50. Replenished the peanut supplies. We were going to watch some episodes of Hammer House of Horror this evening. But the Elvis film came on, and we got interested in it. Very engaging. Gave me a better opinion of him as a recording artist. Then two Christmas episodes of Inside No 9. OK. 11.25pm.
Sunday 28th December 2025
Me and Jenni listened to Paddy McGuiness on Radio Two then Elaine Paige. Had a mega Sunday dinner delivered then I got the 47-bus back to Consett. More supplies in Tesco then a walk to Moorside. Copy-ups and key-ins. Read a load of Motorhead tributes and ate fruit salad porridge. Did a bit of physio and will try to read in bed. 9.22pm.
Monday 22nd December 2025
Had a good time being interviewed by Emma Millen for BBC Upload this afternoon. It was meant to be 10 minutes, but I babbled a lot, so it was closer to half an hour. She asked how I got into writing, got me to read three poems – The Dark House, Snow and Fail Satan – and talk about workshops. Afterwards, I went to HMV, Waterstones and Damaged Society. Then back to Jen’s for an hour. Fell asleep. Busy bus home – stuffed full. Discovered Ernie's birthday card, which I wrote out and placed with his present a few days ago, has disappeared. Will buy another and post it. Did physio and copy-ups. Ready for bed. 11.28pm.
Tuesday 23rd December 2025
Mam and Ernie visited today. We all went to my sister's house to deliver presents. Then I packed a big case for tomorrow’s journey to Jen’s. My guts are rumbling. Full of trapped wind. I did my Over Fifties exercises early this evening. I started to watch a horror film called ‘Saint Maud’ but fell asleep. I did, however, manage to wake up in time to see the last minute, thus spoiling it for next time. If I can get rid of this hot air, I might be able to do physio before bed. I hope the buses are running well tomorrow. OK.11.42pm.
Wednesday 24th December 2025
Woke about six. Up before seven and downstairs to do morning pages. Had my usual tuna and banana with pickled shallots and sultanas. Then out on the old Rockhopper hybrid bike. Rode over the slack heaps then back along the lane to Lydgetts Junction and along the cycle path to Rowley and home. I did some physio and extra shoulder exercises. The buses to Gateshead were fairly quiet. Got to Jen's place quite early. Dropped off some stuff then back out to Newcastle: HMV, Damaged Society and Waterstones. Bought some reduced-price bread in Heron Foods and a few things in Tesco on the way back. Watched a good Doctor Who spin-off about water pollution. Very warm tonight. 11.25pm.
Thursday 25th December 2025
It was good to just wander around Eldon Square yesterday afternoon. I'd arrived in Gateshead before two, much to Jenni 's surprise: "WHAAAAT! I've not started wrapping yet. There may be things in the room you shouldn't see." So I just went out for a few hours. The shops were open till five. Some of them, Heron Foods and Tesco, even later. So there were plenty of places to go. I checked out the horror DVDs in HMV. Still no more of the fifteen films recommended by Fangoria magazine. I reckon it'll take me a year to work through that list. And even longer for all the books I have lined up.
HOW SAINTS DIE the novel by Carmen Marcus arrived five days early. It was hanging out the letterbox, over the doormat, when I got back from my little bike ride yesterday.
I'm enjoying the winter cycling a lot more than I thought I would. It's actually more about just having the discipline to stick to the routine of getting into the bike clothes on a cold morning and getting the bike outside and rolling away from Moorside. The rides don't have to be epic. They just have to be regular. I managed a full physio session as well. I think the left shoulder is going to ache in cold weather now no matter what I do.
On Tuesday, Ernie was wearing a wrist splint for driving due to arthritis. Mam says she has to wear them in bed. I dread to think what I'll need should I reach 80 years plus. I can't see it myself though.
I had another look at Julia Cameron's Write for Life book. I am tempted, but I reckon a lot of it will be the same as The Artist's Way and The Right to Write. I'll look again before the new year starts.
How Saints Die by Carmen Marcus will be my first attempt at reading a novel for a long time, but I’ll try to stick with it coz I want to familiarise myself with some of her work while she's facilitating with Josie Brookes at Waddington Street Centre for six weeks.
One of the things they are focusing on is junk journals – which are pretty close to perzines. So I'll be sure to take Julia Eff, Jessie Lynn McMains and Trace Ramsay publications to the first session, which is the day after my first workshop of the year with Waddy writers.
I think I'll use some ‘personal zine’ examples in my workshop. And maybe a few pages from Henry Rollins Talks which is the book that got me into journaling in the first place. I could gather all my 2025 notebooks and photograph the pile. I could photograph the 12 pamphlets in 12 months from 2023. And I could take the opening pages from Post Office by Charles Bukowski and some poems from Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame, as well as a couple of vignettes by Joolz Denby, and Holiday on Death Row by Roger McGough. I will take a bunch of warm-up exercises and look at the format of a perzine, including fodder graphics. I'd like to show how zine culture has permeated conventional publishing. I should have taken photos of the recipe spreads in the little kids' witchcraft book I bought for Jen's mam. I'm sure I can find other examples. The cover of Black Coffee Blues by Rollins in the Virgin Books edition, perhaps. I might take in my deluxe Anomalies as well. All of this for the first session back? And I could take my first handmade book There Are Easier Ways of Living than Bleeding to Death. And Exile magazine that contains The Milk Bottle, my first ever published piece. That magazine, coincidentally, was based in Saltburn where Carmen lives.
The big house is very quiet. I went downstairs to fill the five-litre water bottle for the day and couldn't hear any movement on the middle or ground floors. When I passed through the huge living room to the kitchen, all the bags of presents from around the tree had gone. Jen said people were heading out early. As I write this, sat on a black drawstring bag on the attic landing, I think I can hear voices from the floor below. For some, the big day hasn't yet started in the big house. Jenni is still asleep. I am in the mood to go out for a walk around the block for ten minutes or so.
Many years ago, when I was very focused on biketrial, I did a stretch of one hundred and eighteen days without fail on my Saracen MAD trials bike. Even on Christmas morning, staying at my mam's house in Bishop Auckland, I was up before dawn and dressed to ride. I went down to the town centre and hopped about on some huge concrete blocks edging a car park off the main high street.
A few weeks later, after months of sub-zero morning training sessions, my MAD frame cracked at the seat stays. Luckily, my Zoo Pitbull frame and fork were on the way.
I loved those early starts on the bike. Now, I wake with multiple aches. But can still get out on local trails. I can still form sentences on paper. I am fairly optimistic about the future.
Have a good one. OK. 9.42am.
Friday 26th December 2025
I read most of ‘Get Over Yourself’ poems by Leanne Moden this morning. Me and Jenni had spicy chips in pitta bread pockets. Only a couple of shops were open this afternoon. Bought a few supplies in Tesco but forgot the peanuts. We had Christmas pudding with vanilla custard for tea. Spoke to Mam and Ernie on the phone. Watched Big Fat Quiz of the Year and other game shows. Cheese and crackers for snacks. Then banana on toast for supper. Hope I haven't gained much weight. Tomorrow I might buy a new diary. OK. 11.24pm.
Saturday 27th December 2025
Me and Jenni took another walk into town this afternoon. Got a decent black t-shirt for £1.50. Replenished the peanut supplies. We were going to watch some episodes of Hammer House of Horror this evening. But the Elvis film came on, and we got interested in it. Very engaging. Gave me a better opinion of him as a recording artist. Then two Christmas episodes of Inside No 9. OK. 11.25pm.
Sunday 28th December 2025
Me and Jenni listened to Paddy McGuiness on Radio Two then Elaine Paige. Had a mega Sunday dinner delivered then I got the 47-bus back to Consett. More supplies in Tesco then a walk to Moorside. Copy-ups and key-ins. Read a load of Motorhead tributes and ate fruit salad porridge. Did a bit of physio and will try to read in bed. 9.22pm.
At the desktop computer most of the day trying to clear the backlog. Major stotting headache. Sickly stomach. Migraine, I reckon. Had to knock off and lie down for an hour this evening. Today was my first full day back in the fridge in Moorside after the substantial warmth of Jen’s Den in the attic in Bensham. Two thermal tops. Two fleeces. Three pairs of trousers and a skullcap. Plus a hot water bottle, reheated every hour, to put on my lap and keep the fingers functioning at the keyboard. Been listening to Motorhead albums back-to-back: Overkill, Ace of Spades, Iron Fist, Another Perfect Day, Orgasmatron, Kiss of Death and Bad Magic. I posted the lyrics to Orgasmatron on Facebook using Lemmy’s full Sunday name. I’m off to bed soon, with hopes of getting out on a bike for a couple of hours tomorrow before doing the tax return. 9.41pm.
Tuesday 30th December 2025
First winter ride in the rain this morning. Only a bit of drizzle really. And it wasn’t bad for long. Just an hour over the slag heaps and around by Knitsley. Made up a new morning pages notebook and spent a few hours number crunching for my self-assessment tax return. This evening, I watched a Motorhead documentary. Part of me just wants to jack everything in and hibernate till springtime. What do I want right now? I’d like the strength and energy of my mid-thirties. But those days aren’t coming back. Oh well, enough for today. OK. 10.21pm.
Wednesday 31st December 2025
First winter ride in the rain this morning. Only a bit of drizzle really. And it wasn’t bad for long. Just an hour over the slag heaps and around by Knitsley. Made up a new morning pages notebook and spent a few hours number crunching for my self-assessment tax return. This evening, I watched a Motorhead documentary. Part of me just wants to jack everything in and hibernate till springtime. What do I want right now? I’d like the strength and energy of my mid-thirties. But those days aren’t coming back. Oh well, enough for today. OK. 10.21pm.
Since infancy, I’ve preferred my own company. I remember going into the bathroom back in Bridgehill and thinking, I could live in a space not much bigger than this. Ironically, it’s my girlfriend Jenni who lives in a single room while I reside in a two-up, two-down with my stuff scattered all over the place.
Right now, I’m downstairs before daylight. Used rolls of wrapping paper still litter the floor. Scores of books are stacked against the side of the settee. Rows of DVDs line one wall, either side of a broken stereo that I’ve owned for over three decades. A big music fan, but no great sound system.
I don’t really have a lot to say. December is always a hard month. With or without workshops, just getting through the festivities unscathed is a major feat. I feel a bit run-down. Every year, I say never again. I don’t like being forced to do things against my will. The body rebels. Tells me to tell the world to leave the fuck alone. I’m lucky, I seem to get my own way a lot of the time.
As the year draws to a close, I wonder if I’m doing things right. I wonder if biking is worth the hernia and the torn bicep. I wonder if hours at the computer are worth the eyestrain. I wonder if all the sacrifices made to put pen to paper have been in vain. Then I think about getting up at half past six, five days a week, to go to a grey concrete-floored breezeblock building for over a decade and ending up in a psychiatric ward. Half a lifetime ago. Do I want to go back to the straight blue-collar world of fetch me, carry me? Do I think my damaged brain could cope with eight-hour days in a busy office? The answer to both is, of course, no.
Right now, I’m downstairs before daylight. Used rolls of wrapping paper still litter the floor. Scores of books are stacked against the side of the settee. Rows of DVDs line one wall, either side of a broken stereo that I’ve owned for over three decades. A big music fan, but no great sound system.
I don’t really have a lot to say. December is always a hard month. With or without workshops, just getting through the festivities unscathed is a major feat. I feel a bit run-down. Every year, I say never again. I don’t like being forced to do things against my will. The body rebels. Tells me to tell the world to leave the fuck alone. I’m lucky, I seem to get my own way a lot of the time.
As the year draws to a close, I wonder if I’m doing things right. I wonder if biking is worth the hernia and the torn bicep. I wonder if hours at the computer are worth the eyestrain. I wonder if all the sacrifices made to put pen to paper have been in vain. Then I think about getting up at half past six, five days a week, to go to a grey concrete-floored breezeblock building for over a decade and ending up in a psychiatric ward. Half a lifetime ago. Do I want to go back to the straight blue-collar world of fetch me, carry me? Do I think my damaged brain could cope with eight-hour days in a busy office? The answer to both is, of course, no.
I do what I can. I’ve helped some people along the way, made use of my skills – crafting, organising, inspiring – but I’m not really a people person. I don’t do well in group situations. Not for long anyway.
Some of these words are written in a contrived way. I want to finish the blog before I go out for the day. I have to make myself presentable again. I often forget to check the mirror. I languish in layers way past their best. No-one visits cellar twelve. And why would they? Who wants to sit in a cold box with no television, no conversation? Jenni and I get along well, spark off each other. But with most people, I run out of steam in about five minutes. I don’t have a lot to say. I write about a quarter of a million words a year. I share less than about forty thousand. Only a fraction of those are worth the journey. So I’m always chuffed to get responses to my blog posts. I don’t set out to write full essays for Scribbles from the Brink of Inertia. I take the word Blog literally. Short for web log. An online logbook, not a beautifully crafted piece of prose. Just clipped reportage most of the time. Self-indulgent. It serves its purpose.
I have quite a bit to look forward to in 2026: celebrity talks about cinema; the history of witchcraft; a BBC Upload interview with Emma Millen recorded on 23rd December goes out on Saturday 3rd January; a couple of acoustic concerts from one of my favourite stage performers whose records I first heard in childhood... I’ve got a couple of Meet the Author gigs with Durham Libraries booked for February. I’m making a couple of anthologies for Washington Writers and Waddington Street Writers. And I have four book projects of my own to grapple with.
Some of these words are written in a contrived way. I want to finish the blog before I go out for the day. I have to make myself presentable again. I often forget to check the mirror. I languish in layers way past their best. No-one visits cellar twelve. And why would they? Who wants to sit in a cold box with no television, no conversation? Jenni and I get along well, spark off each other. But with most people, I run out of steam in about five minutes. I don’t have a lot to say. I write about a quarter of a million words a year. I share less than about forty thousand. Only a fraction of those are worth the journey. So I’m always chuffed to get responses to my blog posts. I don’t set out to write full essays for Scribbles from the Brink of Inertia. I take the word Blog literally. Short for web log. An online logbook, not a beautifully crafted piece of prose. Just clipped reportage most of the time. Self-indulgent. It serves its purpose.
I have quite a bit to look forward to in 2026: celebrity talks about cinema; the history of witchcraft; a BBC Upload interview with Emma Millen recorded on 23rd December goes out on Saturday 3rd January; a couple of acoustic concerts from one of my favourite stage performers whose records I first heard in childhood... I’ve got a couple of Meet the Author gigs with Durham Libraries booked for February. I’m making a couple of anthologies for Washington Writers and Waddington Street Writers. And I have four book projects of my own to grapple with.
But today I am a bit slow.
In a little while, I’ll get my tuna and banana with pickled shallots and sultanas for breakfast. I’ll boot up the desktop computer and upload my final post of 2025 to social media. Connecting with the world from a safe distance. I don’t have a lot to say. And yet here we are. The empty can rattles the most, said a famous heavy metal vocalist. But me, I’m running out of steam.
I’m not really making any New Year's resolutions. Recently I’ve been drawn once again to dark fantasy fiction and film. I have a couple of lists of horror films I’d like to see in 2026, if possible. And the amount of stuff I’d like to read is ridiculous. I’m still doing my physio and other physical exercises and hope the left arm holds up so I can go trail-trundling in local woods on my Sonder Frontier adventure bike come springtime. But there are no plans to do any multi-day road rides over the next twelve months. I might do daytrips to places of local historical interest. Myths and folklore – I’ll probably be engaging with that sort of stuff. And I’d like to devour all the flash fiction bought at the Bristol festival last July.
I’m running out of space now. I’ve had a good year, despite a few setbacks. Hope the next one is okay.
All the best in your endeavours for 2026. Thanks for reading. OK. 7.28am.
In a little while, I’ll get my tuna and banana with pickled shallots and sultanas for breakfast. I’ll boot up the desktop computer and upload my final post of 2025 to social media. Connecting with the world from a safe distance. I don’t have a lot to say. And yet here we are. The empty can rattles the most, said a famous heavy metal vocalist. But me, I’m running out of steam.
I’m not really making any New Year's resolutions. Recently I’ve been drawn once again to dark fantasy fiction and film. I have a couple of lists of horror films I’d like to see in 2026, if possible. And the amount of stuff I’d like to read is ridiculous. I’m still doing my physio and other physical exercises and hope the left arm holds up so I can go trail-trundling in local woods on my Sonder Frontier adventure bike come springtime. But there are no plans to do any multi-day road rides over the next twelve months. I might do daytrips to places of local historical interest. Myths and folklore – I’ll probably be engaging with that sort of stuff. And I’d like to devour all the flash fiction bought at the Bristol festival last July.
I’m running out of space now. I’ve had a good year, despite a few setbacks. Hope the next one is okay.
All the best in your endeavours for 2026. Thanks for reading. OK. 7.28am.
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