July 21st

 Cooled significantly today. It was 40C according to the car on Monday. Today it reported 21C. An insane difference in 72 hours.

Athena was full of beans this morning. Tired of sitting indoors. Bouncy. Eager. Ok ok. So first thing, after a 10 minute sit down to properly wake up, I took her out for a walk. Very happy about it. All bounces and running around. Crazy old lady. Yaayyy we get to go out. Yes, because its not insane temperature outside. Athena does not care the reason. Lets goooo.

We had a nice walk, several dips in the river, and she behaved as an exemplary older citizen around all the pooches we crossed paths with. One was courteous enough to keep her young bouncy dog away from Athena. She commented Athena was old, but how old. Past 12 and a half. Ohh. You've done very well to get her that far ! Uh huh. She's doing well. Past her warranty. Still going.

We walked a fair bit. Tired when I got home. Had a nap. Then went for a swim in the afternoon. Somewhat taking the piss, but eh, I was kinda determined not to miss a swimming day, even though I kinddaaa wanted to just rest.

Swimming was good. I'm getting noticeably stronger in the pool. Stamina is improving a lot. I'm fast getting used to it. Don't get me wrong, I am horribly out of shape. But there's already a marked change from day one to.. now. Not sure what visit number this is. Fifth ? Sixth ? I'm going twice a week at the moment. So that's 5 or 6 hours of swimming. I feel like overall this is a positive routine for me to keep up. Whether I like it or not. Ha. So far I am liking it. The sense of freedom in a pool is... its tickling some very old core memories in me. Different times. And I realise that I've missed it. Buried it for decades. I miss that feeling of swimming.

When I was around 6 years old, for some reason or other, my dad decided swimming was going to be the thing. And I got taken along. In the evenings. To a pool somewhere... around Stratford. Plaistow. At the time for us, a 15 minute drive up the road. An old school East End pool. Which no doubt is no longer there given that area was ripped up for the 2012 Olympics.

My dad did not teach me to swim. That was left up to a lovely east end slightly older guy, whos name.. shamefully.. escapes me. An old school name. Something like Stan. He was kind, caring and patient. A super all round dude. And a great teacher. I liked him a lot. You felt safe and happy and yada in his company. And. In hindsight. The kind of influence in my life that I was absolutely deprived of everywhere else. It's funny when I look back on the adults I remember very fondly as a kid, I didn't know why at the time, I just knew that they had a "good feeling" about them. They were nice to be around.

As an older arse now, I can look back and *clearly* understand why I liked those people. Those people all actually gave a shit. What I got off them was caring. Patience. Differing forms of love. Which was kinda alien to the rest of my existence.

The dude who taught me swimming was one of those people. Not in my life for very long. A year maybe at most. I think he got ill in the end and stopped regularly swimming. But he taught me how to swim. And gave me a love of swimming.

My dad. Did sweet fuck all.

Which is not a put down for my dad per se. It's just. Indicative.

And I struggle to think of what he *did* actually teach me. Or spend time with me on. About the only thing I can think of, is, for a while, a few years, he sometimes played board games with me. He taught me how to play them. And we played games that were beyond my years. Wargames. But he grew tired of that. I suspect the miseries ate him alive in that respect, and he no longer had the urge to play games. From my perspective as a kid, he just stopped playing.

I can understand what my dad went through, has gone through. Depressed. Suicidal. Looking at it critically. I don't think he ever should have had me. It was a mistake. He wasn't well equipped to be a dad at all. And his depression et al just made that a lot worse. But eh. Take that with a pinch of salt. We had some alright times. Obsessively camping. Or messing about in dinghys.

Oh. He taught me how to make fires.

I got very little to zero encouragement as a kid. To do shit. Or nurtured. Or helped. Or any of that shit. My Mom admitted to such in her later years. In a moment of clarity. The person I am today to a greater degree has been forged on my own, or, in spite of who my parents are. Computers and everything technical from day one, was a solo endeavour. So from 10 years old, that was all me. Learning the hard way by doing.

My dad at the time infamously asked what good computers were for.

Ho ho.

Anyway. Eh. Pfft.

I have a very clear view of the people my parents were back in the day. I have a bit of a rat trap memory. And remember shit. And with the wisdom and learning I have accrued over the years, I can see them, and all their flaws, clearly. It does make me wonder sometimes what changes would have ensued had I had.. a different upbringing. I think probably some of my greatest weaknesses would be.. entirely missing or much less. But maybe some of my strengths too - built in spite against the flaws of my parents. I do know this. If I could go back in time. And be there for younger me. Fuck me. What a difference I could make. Time. Encouragement. Care. Fun.

But. I think so many people have that baggage too. A myriad of patterns and outcomes. But. Eh. I have been slowly delving deeper into the mindset and background of a friend of mine. And she fits so many textbook definitions. Driven. Never good enough. Starved of love and affection. And she's a good deal younger - 15 years or so, which implies that things have *not* changed upbringing wise. Well. At least in that half generation. 

But the result of her character is something I have seen before. And not a little of in myself. So the same shit keeps happening. It makes me wonder if the various types of people you meet are just sums of all that parental fuckery. Archetypes. Whether its starved of love. Or no boundaries. Or spoiled. Anger. Secrets. Whatever it is. I think it can form distinct patterns of people.

The shrinks are right. Almost everything goes back to your parents.

It's sad how much fuckery goes on.