After much soul-searching I have decided to make this the last blog but one.

The reason?  Well put simply, despite all the good and supportive comments that you lovely folk take time out to post, I do feel that I'm not really moving forward when I make a blog, irrespective of any personal advances I have made in my life.

I feel that no matter how good a particular day or week has been, it has become customary for me to dwell on the bad things rather than good things that have happened to me.  Okay, I accept that the things we enjoy (or at least cope with), we gloss over, while we call for help

I think (know) I've reached the utmost limits of my patience.  Yeah, I've felt this way before, but in the past it has been a simple case of balancing what I've got against what I will not have - living with my children (with all the problems and joy that might bring) versus being a part-time father trying to negotiate when I might have time with my kids.  It's always been a simple decision really.

Tonight I've had yet another ding-dong with my children (even when I refer to it, I feel obliged (in my lame "it's okay, I'll take all the blame" pathetic way) to soften it and make it sound less

 Maybe I should have entitled this blog entry as "My life as a musical soundtrack (Pt.3)".  The title of this blog is quoted from the lyrics from a beautiful song by John Martyn.

 

When it comes to symbolising what is most true to me (for personal and other reasons,) folk music, more than any other genre, comes closer than any other musical form to encompassing my feelings and passion.  John Martyn must be one of the most blessed musicians, if only because his experience (and expression of those experiences), most closely matches my