where art collides philosoperontap

Been out sorting the greenhouse. Putting compost in seed trays ready for planting. Figured I’d find a podcast to keep me company and put on BBC sounds. The first one that caught my eye was The Peter Crouch Podcast which I listened to briefly. It is a popular podcast but didn’t feel it was what I wanted in my ear when pottering about in the garden. I ended up listening to The Infinite Monkey Cage. Much more my thang.

The upshot of all this is that the seed trays are now ready to host their seeds and I know a little bit more about geology than I did before. The next job is to identify what goes in the trais. I have taken advice on this and am opting for padron, jalapeno, thai hot and birdseye with scotch bonnet and habanero to be avoided (I know, wimp). Interestingly enough, I think, I found jalapeno, habanero and cayenne in our seed box so am going to plant them and separately source the padron and Thai jobs. I grew jalapeno last year and was quite disappointed with them but will have another go. Maybe read up a little on instructions.

Today is my dad’s 87th birthday. He seemed in good spirits when I had my video chat. Had taken breakfast in the restaurant. He lives in a care facility and it has been pretty tough going the last few weeks as everyone has been confined to their rooms to avoid covid. Some of the residents had tested positive. 

Dad was the first to test positive actually, coincidentally on the day he got his jab. Amazingly he showed no symptoms and has now made it through to the other side. A sigh of relief all round. 

The challenge now is to improve his quality of life where he lives. We are optimistic that at least my sister Sue who lives around the corner from him will be able to visit him soon. I’m quite looking forward to being able to pop down to Cardiff meself.

The media this morning is full of speculation on the content of Bojo’s covid update tomorrow. He is going to outline the steps by which life will return to normal. The news from Israel, a country leading the charge on covid vaccine inoculation appears to be very positive with 95% of those having the jab not showing any symptoms. On the basis that most of the people in the vulnerable category and therefore likely to be hospitalised if they catch the virus will have had the jab by the end of April this suggests that the reopening of society can’t be that far off. 

They are now also saying that everyone will have been vaccinated by the end of July. There is always the possibility that a new variant could affect plans but the hope is that the current vaccines will offer some protection against this.

We even hear that fans are likely to be allowed back into outdoor events such as football matches and festivals from the end of May. This is fantastic if you run a festival such as Beyond The Woods (as one does). We shall see.

I leave you with a question. When will spring have sprung on Jupiter and Mars?

…

You should never finish a jobs list. This is a much more profound statement than some of you might realise. I don’t want to finish the list for someone (a greater being?) to then say “your work here is done” and I keel over. Kaput. The End. Nosirree Bob why tempt fate? That’s why you should always leave one job left on the list.

Now there is a counter argument which is if you leave a job on the list and you still kick the bucket people will say his life’s work was incomplete, never finished. You might find yourself looking wistfully down from your cloud (/up from the furnace) wishing you’d finished decorating the spare room. I don’t think I will if only because Anne does all that sort of thing, or we get someone in but you get my drift.

Currently the only job left on my list is to repair a photo frame. This feels dangerous. It won’t take long although it has been on the list for some time. It’s only sin is being the last job on the list not to be ticked off. I am confident that others will appear. Soon. In fact I know of one or two that Anne hasn’t yet written down. 

I might play it safe and add one or two jobs that are near to impossible or at the very least implausible. Jobs that require significant research and preparation. Building up to. Ones that need looking up and down and through gritted teeth saying “this is not an easy one – it will take some time”. 

This does happen more often than you perhaps might think. Jobs that end up getting someone in to sort. Take hedge trimming as an example. Hedge trimming has appeared on the list in the past. In the interest of getting the job done in a timely fashion we have ended up getting Tom The Tree Man in to do it. It takes Tom with all the right gear a whole morning to do the hedges front and back. It would take me days and the job would not be as well executed. Now we don’t even think about sticking hedge trimming on the jobs list. We just give Tom a bell.

Anyway take my advice. You should never finish a job list.

Had a funny dream last night. Not sure of the exact details but for some reason I had decided to leave some planks to season before making a boat. My previous attempts had gone wrong because the wood had warped. If there are any shrinks amongst you let me know what that was all about. It’s a little out of left field.

It’s pretty rare to remember a dream. If I have one that is worth remembering I have to wake up and immediately and specifically think of an aide memoire for later.Rarely happens. I’m sure I’ve lost many a brilliant idea or thought but not remembering something. I remember watching a programme on the band Queen which recanted a story that Freddie Mercury had to get out of the bath in order to write down the song he had just come up with before he forgot: “Crazy Little Thing Called Love”. Crazee.

Took the tea upstairs and got back into bed. Thought of loads of things to write about in the meantime, all of which have vanished from the memory. The only answer is to have the laptop open and to be continuously writing, or at least to have continuous access to record the idea.

A welcome bit of news this morning is that the Ministry of Housing is going to set up a second HQ in Wolverhampton. Welcome because it is nothing to do with covid, brexshit or celebrity couples having babies or getting divorced. I am interested in covid as it affects me personally. I’ve given up caring about brexshit. They can turn it into a success or a disaster. It is beyond my influence and control. As far as the celebs concerned this sort of news needs to stay within the confines of the Daily Express or Mail where I will not see it.

The good burghers and citizens of the fair town of Wulveramton (see what I did there – you might need to live in the UK to understand) will I’m sure be very excited. The civil servants concerned could be excitable 😉 Not sure I’ve ever been there although I do know that Derek Dougan was famously the long standing manager of the football club.

Moving on, Serena Williams cried during the post match press conference after she lost a semi final in Australia. This is interesting. It’s interesting because the dominance of someone who has been one of the best tennis players ever, male or female is over. We have seen it coming. It isn’t interesting because of Serena the individual. She seems a very nice person. It’s great that such a talent is also nice. Maybe that comes with greatness. Maybe you can’t be truly great and not be nice at the same time otherwise you wouldn’t be great.

It is interesting because her era is ending. All things come to pass. Interesting because we can see the era coming to a close. Interesting to wonder how someone copes with the greatness and interesting to see that she is human and can show emotion when something bad has happened to her, or at least not in line with her experience over the past 20 years.

You wonder what will happen during the rest of her life. It won’t be normal but it won’t be the same as during her long time as undisputed champion. How can you move on? It happens to lots of people. Serena was just on camera and is of the moment. None of it really matters but all of it really does matter, at least to the individual concerned. There aren’t many people that you can look at and think this way. It isn’t the same as just losing your job and having to find another one.

At 12.28pm I awarded myself the afternoon off. I did notice an item in my calendar at 4pm but when I drilled into it it said “Friday beer” and is a company wide event. The fact that my 4pm is 5pm for most of the rest of the company is neither here nor there 🙂

Popped to Fosters butchers for some protein and the Waitrose for a few other bits and bobs. Bloody cold queuing outside to get in and it was slightly annoyed with the guy at the front controlling entry. He is meant to operate a one in one out system but occasionally he would miss the fact that 5 persons left the building but only let one in. Being kind to him I could say that having to stand outside in the freezing cold all day affects the brain. You choose.

The thermometer is saying 11 degrees Centigrade outside but it feels a lot colder. Either that or I’m having a mild reaction to yesterday’s jab. There is a bit of windchill factor going on I’m sure although I’m currently sat in the warmth of the front room. A quiet night in watching the snooker in prospect. Wales open. Celtic Manor. Stayed there quite a few times when I was working for Mitel. It’s a posh gaff and the rooms are nice but it is a cavernous hotel. Not a particularly cosy bar.

We are having risotto tonight.

“The number 0131 561 4532 belongs to Ipsos MORI, which has been commissioned by the government to survey how your business is dealing with cyber security. The survey is approximately 20-30 minutes long.”

Ignored a couple of calls from this number. Having just googled it this morning I’m glad I did. 20 – 30 minutes! Was to our home landline number. Actually it must have been spam because why would IPSOS Mori call a residential number, especially one registered with the admittedly dysfunctional (as I recall) Telephone Preference Service. I must have a word with my mate Colin who owns the phone company to understand why he is letting such calls through 🙂

I’ve entitled this post “the dinosaur”. I was lying in bed last night thinking, as one does. I was thinking about the diversity of first names of people on a TV programme Anne and I had been watching. Some celebrity cooking thing. Anne likes that kind of stuff. What made me think dinosaur is that when I were a lad most people were called Dave or Andy or Susan etc. 

Our society in the intervening years has become much more multicultural. Either that or where I lived, in rural Wales and the Isle of Man it was not nearly as multicultural as elsewhere in the British Isles. I’m sure that on the TV they were also Andys etc. Actually in Wales they were all called Trefor, Dafydd and Gwenllian but you knowworramean. My kids think I’m a bit of a dinosaur really when it comes to this kind of thing. I probably am. A well meaning dinosaur though. One that appears on children’s books not the ferocious devour all in its path version.

I’m writing this whilst half listening to an Oracle online update. It seems to be that time of year or simlar. Oracle are a business partner of ours. I’m not that interested really but we get a mention in this one. It’s all online these days innit. No physical events in sight, at least not industry related ones. Hopefully the festival will be a different kettle of fish. We await developments.

I walked to the shed this morning in just a t shirt. This is partly because I forgot to look for my jumper before coming and partly because it is quite mild albeit windy. Returning with a tray and a pot of tea it had just begun to rain. Refreshing. I felt that listening to the Oracle corporate spiel required several cups of tea. The speakers are quite robotic. They are obviously reading from their screens. Either that or the average American corporate animal is devoid of any real personality. They go to offsite meetings to have it driven out of them so that they all sound the same.

Whilst I was on a conf call the ONS called back. I answered them this time and someone asked to speak to the manager. I told them this was a residential line and was registered with the TPS and they could f off. Got it off my chest.

…

The jab. The upper cut. The knockout punch. The trip to the surgery. The covid inoculation.

Been a slow morning filled with conference calls n stuff. After all that I went out for a stroll down to Aldi, around the back to Tesco, through the car park and home. Very scenic. Had I gone in the other direction I would have walked past the Cathedral, around the Caste and back. Another time 🙂

Now I’m back watching the lunchtime news. I very rarely do this. However my calendar is full this afternoon as well so I thought what the heck eh? I’ve stuck the mute on although with subtitles being on it’s almost like having the sound on in terms of level of distraction.

I note Phil the Greek is still in hospital. Wonder what they feed him. Kebabs probably. Would be ok if they were good quality kebabs not the crap you eat slathered in hot chilli sauce after a big night out. He probably gets his own specialist kebab chef. No expense spared. At least that’s what I’d do if I were him. Also a few nice bunches of grapes. Obvs. Phil, at 99, has always been around. He is mostly known for his gaffe-ridden overseas jaunts. It took old age and the desire for a quiet life to take him out of the limelight. If I make it to 99 I too will want a quiet life. I probably want one now really 🙂

Now sat in a virtual lobby waiting to be let in for my next meeting. If this was a real physical lobby I’d be chatting to the other meeting attendees whilst we waited for Beryl (or Brian) from reception to let us into the room. In the room there would be tea and biscuits waiting for us. Here I have tea ready to pour but no biscuits.

A few dog walkers in the Arboretum on my way home from dropping Anne’s car off at Coops’ garage, plus an angry guy shouting abuse at someone unseen. The Arboretum attracts the type. Perhaps it’s the primordial allure of trees. He couldn’t have been shouting at the trees. Surely! Shirley. I looked straight ahead and walked as briskly along as the steep path out of the Arbo allowed.

Coops is gearing up to get Anne’s Vans sorted for the start of the season. Should be a busy summer ahead. I observed that the croci and snowdrops were poking through in abundance. It’s the sort of thing I’d normally stop to photograph but on this occasion I was focussing on getting up that hill in one piece so I didn’t. You know what they look like and if you don’t Google informs.

Today is definitely another spring day. For me it will be mostly head down in the shed doing stuff. Not really got going yet despite it being nearly 11am but once I do the productivity will ramp up.

It is very much t shirt weather in the shed. Actually it is t shirt weather all year round in the shed as it is maintained at a comfortable working temperature. This isn’t to say I don’t sometimes wear a jumper. When the snow is drifting against the door it doesn’t feel right to not wear a jumper. The snow has never drifted against the door of this shed as it happens. I added that in for dramatic effect.

There is no harm in introducing a bit of drama into your life. It doesn’t need to be the holding your face in your hands then turning to gaze vacantly into the distance having heard some unexpected and disturbing news type of drama. It could just be acting out your life differently. Maybe I don’t really mean drama. I think it’s abandoning your inhibitions and doing what your heart tells you to do. Trust your gut feel. You will find it works out.

At this point if I was from the USA I’d add a disclaimer denying responsibility for any negative outcome of following that advice. This ain’t the USA though so go frit. Just don’t be stupid. If stupid you are then you have it coming, what ever it may be.

I’d be tempted to buy some colourful glasses. My only problem with this is that due to extremely poor eyesight I have to pay a lot of dosh to get lenses that wouldn’t also look right as part of a wine bottle, or a nice IPA. You know what I mean. So if i did buy that green or red pair that caught my eye and then decided it wasn’t my colour that would be an expensive mistake innit.

Gotta go. A paper on simplification, automation and acceleration to write. A random collection of words casually thrown onto a page. I do the rearranging to make them coherent.

At the coal face early this morning. Checked my emails n stuff. Had a call for Anne’s vans at 7.30am. It went silent. Sent an sms and got a reply saying they had been browsing the site and accidentally called. Fair enuff. Bit early anyway. 

In case you have forgotten, today is Shrove Tuesday, pancake day yay. Now the thing about pancake day is that I seem to have contrived to be away from home for the last few and thus missed out on my pancakes. Last year it was on 25th Feb. We had just returned from our trip to California, a day late due to technical issues with the plane and I’d immediately gone to Brussels for a meeting. I was supposed to be in Barcelona for Mobile World Congress but that had already been cancelled. A sign of the pandemic times and of what lay ahead. I dislike MWC intensely anyway.

So this year I am making up for it. The rule with pancakes is thus

1. You have them with butter, sugar and lemon juice¹
2. You can have as many of them as you can eat
3. You don’t have to have anything else for tea so that you can get as many pancakes in as possible

¹You can make your own rules. I’m not your dad (I might be).

This moment of retrospection made me look up when lockdown started for the first time in 2020. It was 16th March. Exactly one year ago today. Wowsers. One year of our lives consumed. Although we did get away last August to a partially reopened for business Wales it seems that our California trip in 2020 was really our last days of freedom. It was a terrific trip. If you had to choose “one last holiday” that would have been a good one to go for.

Time for me to enter the factory gates and clock on. I have a contract to send, a presentation slide to generate and a newsletter to write innit.

PS – it’s 11 months not one year since the start of lockdown – easily done.

…

Bitcoin continues its relentless rise for the first time hitting $50k. In a world where chaos and anarchy reigns the invisible underclass will need a means to barter for goods. A scene from Star Wars comes to mind where refugees from around the galaxy converge on an anonymous bar on some remote planet, hiding from the empire. Wild times. There is a sign at the door. Bitcoin accepted here.

Keep looking over your shoulder. There are spies everywhere. The Empire will have its taxes. There is no escape. Unless the Jedi can come to the rescue. I put my religion down as Jedi a couple of censuses ago. As good as any. I think in the last one I said I had no religion. Must for some reason grown disillusioned with organised religion, or maybe they just didn’t have a strong enough presence on my planet. I am not the Tref you are looking for.

I’ve had enough for the day. Now watching Williams v Halep in the Australian Open. Don’t normally watch that stuff. It isn’t entirely true to say I’m watching it now either. It is on the telly which is on in the background  would be a more accurate way of putting it. In the meantime am blasting out some “Rock Classics”. Bit of Creedence clearwater Survival fwiw.

In due course I will choose my moment to go in and mix up some pancake batter. There is no rush for this. It is still daylight. We have not yet entered the twilight world that is pancake batter and bitcoin. What I really mean is that it’s too early, and therefore not dark enough to eat. The bitcoin thing was merely thrown in as a diversionary tactic with no thought of what I was trying to divert. 

Never been to Australia. It’s not on my radar either. I don’t fancy spending 24 hours in a metal tube just to get there. I can watch video footage of it anyway. Aussie Gold Hunters springs to mind. Or words to that effect. If I had time on my hands and nothing better to do I’d consider boarding an Antipodean liner bound for Sydney. I’d want a cabin on the port side assuming we were taking the Cape Horn route. Or the Suez Canal I guess. Cuts a lot of time off the journey. Even though I’d have time on my hands it would be silly to waste it unnecessarily. 

We could use the time to stop off at a few points on the way. There is an old bazaar in Cairo for example. Never been and wouldn’t mind checking out the carpets. And the pyramids. I guess we would have to decide on how long to stop for and where to stop. Mumbai or Chennai spring to mind. See how it goes. Not planning anything right now anyway. Dreamer me.

On this day one year ago we were staying in Venice Beach. Pretty much on the beach. The hotel fronted the boardwalk. In the afternoon we walked along to Santa Monica Pier, the terminus for Route 66. After dark we ate lobster in The Lobster looking down on the pier. Was the most expensive lobster I’d ever eaten and it was dark so we didn’t get the benefit of the view. We live but never learn. Unlikely to eat there again. If I remember I’ll tell you about the rest of the trip later. Mañana.

You would be forgiven for believing that spring has arrived in Lincoln. The sun is shining, the birds are chirruping away and life is good. Spring is uplifting. Funny how different a day today is compared with yesterday. Yesterday we needed to deck ourselves out like Nanuk of the North to go out on our walk. The cold was bitter. Today I have the doors to the shed open and am listening to the avian chorus.

You do have to ask yourself why birds such as blackbirds and robins don’t bugger off south for the winter. Presumably they think there is enough grub around and like the miserable weather. It’s not as if they are wage slaves and have a mortgage to pay. Perhaps they can’t fly as far as swallows, to mention a known migratory bird:)

The day, however, has flown by. I nipped out at lunchtime to get a few bits and bobs but my time, after the usual slow monday morning start, has been occupied with conference calls and contracts, marketing discussions and sales meetings. Commerce. Also noted that a new booking came in for Anne’s Vans. The day of the vintage VW campervan has arrived. Rock on.

At five thirty twilight is just upon us. I have not yet changed the shed lighting to night time mood mode. In order to do this I would have to get up out of my chair. The whole world is pretty much controllable from the chair. Changing the lights is not on the list. It is something I could work on but frankly my dear I don’t give a damn. Other things take priority: World peace, the eradication of disease, saving the planet. Miracles we do at once. The impossible takes a little longer. Yanow.

Today, it would seem, is the 50th anniversary of decimalisation in the UK. I remember it well. I don’t recall whether it had any effect on me. My pocket money had previously been 3d although I think that by the time of decimalisation it might have gone up to a tanner. What would have happened to my pocket money. There was no coin equivalent to sixpence in new money. I could ask my dad but I doubt that was his department. It was such a long time ago he wouldn’t remember anyway. I don’t.

It’s dad’s birthday coming up. 87. There isn’t much you need at 87. Chocolates, biscuits and beer. That’s what I’ve got him although I need to figure out the beer bit as he lives in Cardiff and I won’t want to send that in the post. Deliveroo maybs. Or just ask Sue to drop some off. 

We can’t visit yet. He is in an “assisted living” facility as they call them these days. It’s quite a poshun but that’s all well and good. I’m sure he would give up a bit of poshness for some time outside the jailhouse bars. At the risk of over melodramatizing the sitch with the isolation rules we have in place it feels almost as if a lot of innocent and vulnerable people in our society are gazing through their prison bars at a world outside. Everything you hear about in the media is true. The effects will last long. Dad has a device called the GrandPad with is an iPad type tablet designed for the “older user” so we are able to have frequent video calls but it definitely is not the same as being there in person.

When he was with us over Christmas I’d have to help him up from the sofa. I’d always have a cuddle at that point. It’s making me smile as I remember it. Dad was a scrum half and a cricketer in his youth and when I was growing up we would play golf every week. Now he has Parkinsons’ Disease and has lost his strength. Moving into a care home where he can have his everyday needs attended to was essential for dad’s wellbeing but it would have been massively better had we been able to visit him. He has been caught at the wrong time in a situation totally beyond his control

We now look forward to the day when we can head down to Cardiff and go for beers with dad in the Robin Hood pub which amazingly is only about 100 yards from where he lives. On the subject of beer I am about ready for a night on the piss with the lads. I suspect the 6 nations will have finished before the pubs reopen.

To change the subject completely tonight we are having baked potatoes with baked beans. Can’t eat posh stuff every night innit. In fact in the past when I’ve been doing a lot of business travel “posh food” is something that you quickly tire of and you hanker after beans on toast or similar.

20 minutes

In 30 minutes time we are heading out for a walk so I am permitting myself 20 minute of sitting down and writing. Who knows. It might be 20 minutes that change my life. Unlikely. It is 20 minutes in the shed though. I brought the overflowing compost container from the kitchen to the bin behind the greenhouse and figured I’d just open up the shed, because.

The shed itself has been life changing. I can thoroughly recommend the concept. It’s like a separation between church and state but different. A wall of wood built between my work life and home. Mind you work and play is something I’ve always mixed up and the shed supports this. I do a lot of playing in the shed. Still good to have some separate space though.

5 minutes

Now I’m watching the clock. I should never have mentioned the 20 minutes. Feels as if I don’t get something meaningful down in 20 minutes I will have failed, or at least waste the 20 minutes

Pause at 7 minute mark to take a call from dad – never finished the 20 minutes spiel.

Interesting thought. Just watching a documentary on Rome. Talking about Popes, Cesare Borgia et al. He was a bishop at 16, cardinal at 18. Powerful family. In one respect you have to be able to think big. Why not do things in style? Why not?

On the other hand I’m not that bothered about fame and fortune. Depends what you want out of life. Nothing wrong with painting the Sistine Chapel roof. I think you have to be happy with doing things on a big scale that might become famous whilst not really being bothered about the famous bit. Do things for the art, not the fame. Art is not necessarily painting n stuff.

…

That was all yesterday. The Valentines meal was a success albeit the lamb pepper fry was a little too peppery. I’d do it again with less heat, once we’ve finished what’s gone into the freezer. Overall the Dishoom recipes were a success. The paratha was great. Now that we have mastered the technique I’m sure that more will be forthcoming. After the meal we watched Lincoln draw two all with Accrington Stanley. It was a fair result with the visitors equalising near the end. Good name Accrington Stanley.

Now it’s a new week. The snow has gone and temperatures are on the rise. February has passed the halfway mark and our thoughts need to turn to planning for spring. Early seed planting will occur in the greenhouse over the next couple of weeks and to that end it will need clearing of the junk accumulated over the winter. We have the heated propagators and the low level heater for the greenhouse plus an electricity supply. Not sure I’ll go to the effort of doing the timelapse again though I might. I did it all manually last year although we do record everything automatically behind the scenes on the trefsgreenhouse website.

Although we shouldn’t kid ourselves and winter is very much still here it is at least good that these thoughts mark the early indicators of spring. Spring in 2021 should rank amongst the most joyous in living memory. A time when we will have shrugged off a winter that because of the pandemic seems to have been longer and deeper than any of us have experienced. Just writing this gives me a feeling of elation.

On our walk yesterday we saw some pied wagtails and, I think, greenfinches. I’m not an expert and I only caught a flash but they definitely looked green so am guessing really. In the back garden over winter we are limited to the usual blackbirds, robins and blue tits together with the ever present wood pigeons. I’d quite like to add more feeder stations in our garden provided they are rat, wood pigeon and squirrel proof. It would be nice to think I could position one in full view of my desk in the shed. A research project perhaps.

Years ago when I worked for Mitel I needed to meet someone who had flown over from Canada. I lived in Lincoln and the only time we could meet was when he was travelling from the Mitel office in Caldicott to Glasgow or similar. We chose a mid point ish which happened to be the Lake District and I managed to get a great deal on a super hotel on the shores of Lake Windermere. It was something daft like bed breakfast and evening meal with a room that had a 4 poster bed and jacuzzi for around £65.

I arrived early and the room lived up to its promise and time was spent sat in the jacuzzi looking out over Windermere. As the sun set the mists rolled in over the water engulfing the jetty at the front of the hotel and gradually swallowing up the boats at anchor. Very atmospheric.

When I met the two others in the dining room we were in for a real surprise. The whole conservatory was decked out with red heart shaped balloons and other romane paraphernalia geared at lurve. Of course it was Valentine’s Day! We hadn’t clocked this. At home with four young kids cluttering up our lives this has never been given any thought.

That evening we felt like real prunes being three blokes surrounded by young couples with eyes only for their partners. Hey ho.

Today, all kids having abandoned the nest, my Valentine and I are off for a walk across the ice fields of Lincolnshire. When we get back I will launch into the preparation of mutton pepper fry and other delectable recipes from the Dishoom cookbook. I began the preparation yesterday and the lamb, not mutton, has been marinating overnight in the fridge. I will somehow need to fit in watching the Irish beat la France in the 6 nations.

Now I am relaxing with a cup of Union cawfee whilst listening to Classic FM on the sonos in the front room and stroking my new facial growth. I can see why people do it 🙂

Our youngest offspring John has today gained his majority. I think this is still 21 though it feels somewhat outdated as a milestone. Anyway I don’t normally discuss our kids much in public because they get cross so will not be saying much more other than to say that we are proud of him as a young man who is making things happen in his life.

All our kids fill us with pride although with the youngest now being 21 they are clearly no longer kids even though that’s how we refer to them in most circumstances. The age span is 21 – 29. Wow. Does make you think. My dad, who is 87 in a few days time thinks the same when he realises that his son is 59. 59! 

You have to be fairly philosophical about this. This is the year I turn 60. I am planning a big trefbash this year – 9th December. Usual venue: Phoenix Artist Club. Why change a winning recipe.

Sat in the shed for the usual Saturday morning Beyond The Woods management meeting. BTW is a well managed organisation. One of the exciting aspects of the business is that it is not run by me but by the next generation.

…

Later went to Waitrose to pick up some supplies. The queue went around the corner. Still I needed stuff so joned it. Took 15 mins to get in. Freezing cold. Plus they didn’t have everything (degi mirch chilli powder, long pepper powder, curry leaves, gram flour, atta chapati flour. This isn’t Mumbai you know.

Stopped of in the Bail to try the new shop that sells flour and seeds and stuff where you have to take your own container along. Although they did have gram flour they had none of the other ingredients and the 20 minutes it took was painful. First off I had to wait outside as they had reached the limit of numbers allowed in. Then I was allowed to move inside but had to wait in a queue to go upstairs. Finally when I did get upstairs there was a family with two irritating small kids messing about whilst the dad went through a list of things that he needed. I told them it was John’s 21st and that I was glad our family had moved on from the small kid stage.

Back home I did a few preparatory bits in readiness for tomorrow’s Dishoom nosh – mutton pepper curry, gunpowder potatoes and king prawn masala with chapatis, hopefully. Marinaded the lamb and set the marinade in motion for the prawns. This needs to strain through a muslin cloth in the fridge for 12 hours – needs to be dryish.

Now I’ve braved the elements in search of the sanctuary of the shed. Bloody cold and inhospitable out there. Another killer of a night ahead. The shed however is lovely and warm and a great place to watch the rugby. Currently England 8 8 Italy. Wales are on later. May the best team win. Wales!

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It’s been a good day if you are a Welsh rugby fan. Yay. Watched it in isolation in the shed. Forced myself to have a gin and tonic or two. Not quite the pre match drinking starting with full breakfast and then steady consumption of beer until it is time to walk to the ground and get in just before the anthems.

Wales, against all the odds, are atop the 6 nations table and the only country left that can win the triple crown with England coming up in two weeks time. I won’t be going to the match but will be watching in the company of my mates via zoom.

If you’ve never been to Cardiff for a rugby international weekend your life is poorer for it. I am fortunate in that my sister Sue lives within reasonable walking distance of the ground. Hotels if you can get them cost a fortune. Outside of rugby weekends I do quite like to stay at the Hilton in Cardiff but only do that if Sue has a houseful. The drill is beer, rugby with more beer, beer and curry, beery sleep with much snoring. Great days out. 

Now watching the Great Mountain Sheep Gather. It’s on iPlayer on BBC 4. A stunning programme about gathering sheep off a mountain in the Lake District and bringing them down for shearing. I have watched it before and am glad it was requested by Anne who hasn’t yet seen it.

It’s only available for another 21 days but this feels as if it is a programme that should be permanently available for the good of the nation.

I am sat in a 4 hour conference call that began at 8am and which I arranged. The tone of the conversation is custom tags, groups, addresses, visual device management. It is my meeting but really I am only here as the organiser and to field any business related questions. I’ve spent some time on Facebook and read the “papers”.

Here is some interesting non-political, non-covid, non brexshit news today and that is the discovery that the Stonehenge stone circle was originally in Wales where it stood for 400 years before moving to Wiltshire. They have found holes in the ground that exactly match the stones now at Stonehenge. Pretty amazing. What’s more is that the whole lot of them were lifted and dropped in identical orientation.

Mind blowing really. I can’t say I’d have wanted to be around in those days. There must have been some very powerful individuals involved to order such a project. Country-wide powerful. You think of the island of Britain being divided into lots of small kingdoms but the religious heads must have transcended these – think of the Orkney stone circles as well. People must have been given the time to devote to these religious projects. Wonder what project management techniques they used? Prince2? Whips probably.

Time would have gone by slowly I imagine – would have taken ages to setup the project. Lots of travelling back and forth. Life expectancy would not have been particularly high so the project would possibly have transcended generations.

2 hours 25 mins in. I’ve been doing other stuff in the meantime. The 249 words in the previous 4 paragraphs did not take that long to write. That would be very slow ritin. There is nothing wrong with taking time to write. If we were all able to give careful consideration to what went down on the page in front of us it might lead to a better output. I usually have to review what I’ve written before hitting the publish button. Usually this involves improving the English, inserting one word to replace four etc but also to correct typos due to my inexpert touch typing. I’m particularly prone to typos on my current Apple Magic Keyboard which has quite a small form factor.

The 4 hour job finished 20 mins early. Now eating a ham sandwich before my next call!

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Have a super day. No I really mean it. I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. I have a question for you. If you didn’t shoot the deputy who did? One assumes it was in self defence. A rogue lawman on the loose killing innocent bystanders without discrimination. Don’t get caught in the crossfire. Keep your head down.

The planning for our trip to Tobago continues. Watched a TV prog last night about a boutique hotel in Castries, St Lucia. That’ll do for a stop en route I thought. Couldn’t reach the hotel website though. Suspect it was on a crappy hosting package and couldn’t cope with the load. This morning I got there and decided that the fifteen hundred or so a night wasn’t worth it. Looked v nice but felt we might be surrounded by glaze-eyed honeymooners. We need to have more to do than sit around in an infinity pool or lounge on the private beach under the shade of the coconut palms.

I made that last bit up. I’m not totes sure if they were coconut palms and coconut milk is vastly overrated. Sokay in a pina colada which I quite like occasionally when I’m on holiday in St Lucia.

I am now sorting out the menu for Valentines Day which is Sunday. I want to do some cooking. We aren’t talking Sunday roast or similar. Something different. My current thinking is mutton pepper fry with gunpowder potatoes and another side tbd. With maybe masala prawns or chicken tikka to start. Dishoom.

Out of bed early ish (ok 07.40 – not particularly early) this morning as I was scheduled to be called by BBC Lincolnshire to appear on the breakfast show. This time talking about broadband provision to families during lockdown – it’s in the news. The last time I was on it was talking about staycation and the prospects for Anne’s Vans this year. I did that lying in bed but figured I really needed to be sat up at least for this morning so came downstairs.

The beast from the east is still stroking the country with its icy fingers. Not much snowfall really. Just a light dusting every night to keep things fresh. It was minus 4 (feels like minus 7) this morning. Musst take a photo of the thermometer in the greenhouse. The online monitoring has a bug so doesn’t go below zero. This is fixable but needs Tom Bird to dive into it as it is his code. It’s a question of time time time innit. Don’t think the data is lost so should be fine.

I quite like the fact that the video streaming and temperature monitoring continues whether anyone is looking or not. Not many people do look. Really they only go there when I promote it – a new post for example, perhaps with a link from Facebook. I’m ok with this, for now. Good art is not good just because lots of people look at it. Interesting to consider that the video streaming moments really are just moments in time. They are being recorded but only for a couple of weeks or so and then discarded and the recordings are not available to the public anyway. I did a timelapse of last year’s season if anyone wants to see it. It’s in the footer https://www.trefsgreenhouse.com/

A day of getting some admin done ahead of me.

PS managed to name drop Beyond The Woods in my BBC piece 🙂

I have been cultivating a beard of sorts, plus flowing locks. Just breaking free from a lifetime of haircut conformity. Trying to move on from the clean cut image to something with a bit more of an edge. Fits well with my taste in shirts and jackets , running festivals and vintage campervan rental businesses. Someone who looks the laid back hippy part but can speak the business lingo 😉 I was quite pleased this time last year when walking on Santa Cruz pier when a guy walked up to me, shook my hand firmly and says “nice threads man, nice threads”. I was wearing one of my floral linen jackets.

Beards are clearly well suited to the locked down life. Where all around is an icy wasteland they are essential for survival. Speaking of icy wastelands popped into the allotments just now. Nobody there. A sunny and therefore quite pleasant day but you could sense that the place at night with the cold wind blowing would be somewhere you would not want to dwell.

The shed is the log cabin that shelters me from the rigours of the beast from the East. A surreal place really. Picture the explorer in the frozen wilderness of the North crossing a ridge to look down on a valley below and he sees a cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney. An unexpected but welcome sight in a place that he thought was being explored by man for the first time.

It takes him a while to get down to the cabin but as he approaches he sees a brightly lit interior with a guy sat at a desk typing away. They are both surprised by the encounter but he is welcomed in and offered a warming tipple. There is no food in the cabin as the kitchen is in the house 30m away. After spending some time chatting the explorer thanks his host and sets off back on his journey. He has maps to prepare, unexplored territories to survey and beaver hides to gather.

That evening after the sun has gone down he huddles close up to his campfire, heats up some of his remaining supplies and prepares for an uncomfortable night ahead of him. The next morning he has gone. His footsteps are gradually obscured by fresh snowfall and he plays no further part in this story.

On the covid front I’m guessing we might hit the initial target for inoculations by the end of today. Probs won’t hear about it until tomorrow. The numbers seem to get released at roughly the time the daily covid update is presented at number ten, or wherever it is. Matt Hancock seems to find it convenient to use his downstairs loo for this sort of thing. At least that’s what it looks like sometimes. Probs the only place he can get a bit of peace and quiet for his press briefings.

The sun is now past its zenith. The land outside is beginning the cooling process in preparation for a night of killing. Any weakened being caught out in the open is fair game. Let is not be you my friends. My series of meetings are over for the day. Time to unwind.

Tomorrow is an early start for me. 8am. Did you know that such a time existed? I don’t buy the “I spent thirty years setting into the office for a 7.30 am start” stance. Take control of your life or others will control it for you. Playing some 70s rock anthems in the shed. Spotify playlist. Also we are celebrating tonight. It’s a private thing. Quiet celebration about something that has made us happy. Might tell you one day.

There comes a certain point in the day where I switch the shed into evening mode.The mood lighting and the outside lights (those explorers still need to be able to find me) come on together with the Cold Beer sign (good investment). Today I have the BBC news on with subtitles. I want to listen to music not news. It is never good news although they do sometimes try and finish with a short feelgood item. It’s as if they know that they have just spent half an hour telling you stuff that is likely to make you miserable and feel guilty about it.

Life continues. We do appear to be over the worst of it. Infection rates dropping, numbers in hospital going down and most importantly mortality rates headed in the right direction. Each day we look at the graphs and try to extrapolate the data to see the point at which we regain our freedom.

Freedom means being able to stand at the bar. Standing at the bar is by no means the be all and end all but reaching that point must mean that restrictions are finally over. In the meantime Transport Minister Grant Shapps has apparently advised against booking any holidays yet, be it overseas or in the UK. The country is full of tension, like a drawn bow waiting to be let go.

Although it is still too early to tell I’d say the drop off in the curve is steeper than the first time around.

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Sat on an industry webinar/online meeting. About Microsoft Teams fwiw. Just have it running in the background. Some of these shindigs are pretty useful. This one has 150 attendees right now which is quite a high number. A few people aren’t on mute and so we have had the occasional interrupt – phone ringing or simlar. In the meantime I’m scribbling this.

The concept of scribbling on a computer doesn’t quite sound right. However it is essentially the same. I realise that scribbling brings with it the notion of illegibility or untidiness. Certainly the case with me. So doing it on a computer at least allows people to understand what I’m writing. Actually it allows me to understand what I’m writing. 

My handwriting was bad before the word processor came along. Having used a computer of some sort for pretty much all my adult life (ok ok I still haven’t really grown up) I can no longer do what used to be termed as joined up writing. If I want people to understand what I’ve written I have to write it down in block capitals and it takes me ages.

To take this conversation further I’ve been pondering getting back into the letter writing game. It is all too easy to send an email or IM. Letters are far more valuable and personal. The problem is that the ultimate letter needs to be handwritten but in my case it would take too long to write. My thinking is that the compromise is to type the letter, print it off and sign it. This is what I will probs do but it doesn’t sit perfectly in my thinking. 

The next decision is who to write to. It would be nice to think that sending out letters would result in replies and perhaps an ongoing correspondence. My natural inclination is also to post copies of the letters on philosopherontap as I don’t like not using anything I write. Even drafts are important. Think if we had copies of all 200 or so drafts of Dylan Thomas’ poem “Do not go gentle unto this good night”. What an insight that would provide into Dylan Thomas’ creative process. I realise that some artists only want you to be able to see the end result that they are happy with. 

The notion of publishing what is essentially private correspondence with specific individuals also doesn’t feel totally right but it is still part of one’s oeuvre, if I can put it like that. Historically such material would only come to light after the death of one of the correspondents. Maybe that’s fine. No harm in leaving a bit of your legacy to surface sometime after you are long gone. After all we love it when a long lost play or perhaps a recording session comes to light after the creator has died.

There is also the issue of whether anyone gives a toss. This is a mental hurdle you have to overcome if you create things. When I first decided I was interested in poetry I looked around online to see what was going on in that space. Perhaps somewhere I might publish my own stuff. I joined the poetry society and entered one of their regular competitions. My offering got nowhere and the winner when announced clearly fitted in with what the poetry establishment considered to be good poetry. It felt as if there had to be structure and meaning.

I decided that the poetry society was not where it was at for me, if for nothing else how could they really spot relevant and good stuff when the had thousands or even tens of thousands of entries for each competition (I can’t remember the exact number). I looked elsewhere and found some enthusiast sites with stuff that in my mind was total crap. It wasn’t really fair of me to say that as what makes good poetry is totally in the mind of the individual.

Anyway that was probably one of the drivers in starting my own site. It isn’t really a poetry site although it does contain poetry. The point is the content is not really for anyone else but me. It would be nice to think that others liked what I wrote but that is a bonus. I buy other people’s poetry books but rarely dwell on them or read them cover to cover. Poetry is really for the poet. Smythinking. I rarely write poetry nowadays but never say never. 

This lockdown 2 series is a sort of record of lockdown but also just somewhere to park stuff written at the time. Ideally it is much more than a list of things wot i did during lockdown. You be the judge 🙂

I lament the passing of the label on the trunk. Evocative of journeys to far flung places. Reality is that you had to be very rich to be able to afford a label on a trunk. The trunk in itself would have been an expensive piece of kit travelling alongside passengers in first class cabins on famous liners and trains. 

I’m thinking Cairo, the Pyramids, Beirut, other exotic locations.

The modern equivalent is airline travel with bland nonentity luggage tracing labels that you wouldn’t want to have on display – regardless of cabin class. I do recommend flying long haul first though together with arranging a limo pickup at the destination. Saves a lot of time and hassle.

The other similar but different entity is the fridge magnet but this does not carry quite the same romance as the label. During the days of luggage labels the travellers with them on their trunks wouldn’t even have known where their fridges were. I have a collection of fridge magnets.