No more than a twig really but it is reaching out of the hedge in an attempt to steal the light from its neighbours. A forlorn effort. It will be cut off before ever reaching a prime. Such is the fate of a hedge. A branch serves one purpose. Thinking for itself is not allowed. For now I will let the it bask in its naive optimism. One more day in the sun.
Oo a loaded gun. I expect if I point it at my foot and pull the trigger it will shoot off my foot. Bang.
Happiness is a warm gun…
Mama?!
Some say that the best kind of TV is one that is switched off. There comes a point where you have to resign yourself that there isn’t anything worth watching and rather than flicking constantly and fruitlessly around the remote control just press that red button.
Suddenly the mind is not competing with the mindless. You can let ideas bounce off the insides of your skull and there is a reasonable chance that some of them will appear on the page in front of you.
That’s how it works. You move your fingers across the keyboard and words come out. The thought factory. I look around the room and see books. Roughly 12 metres of shelving. How many words I wonder. How much time spent sat in front of the page waiting for those words to spew out.
I’ve never thought about books that way. People think of a book as something of a certain number of pages that provides a story or information and takes a certain time to read. Not about how long it took to write. There is a school of thought that says that something that was written quickly is more likely to be something that is easier to read. In my own experience some of what I might consider to be my good stuff is work that came easily. Flowed. Bounced off the inside of that skull and bombarded the page.
How on earth do the words come out in the right order? It’s a mystery. One I think that is unlikely to ever be solved. That’s the difference between science and art. There is science in art, the golden ratio for example, but it is incidental.
The TV is off. A light flashes.
Mix a pound of minced lamb with a wodge of chopped chorizo. Add a couple of chopped red chillies, a hunk of coriander, salt and pepper and mix thoroughly. Split into four burgers and hand shape. Fry for a suitable amount of time and towards the end crumble some cheese on top. No need to add oil into the pan as the burgers have plenty of fat. Cover the pan with an ovenproof bowl to melt the cheese. If necessary add some water into the pan to steam and heat the cheese. Whilst your burger is cooking put two halves of a bun cut face down into the frying pan to toast. I also chopped a couple of chestnut mushrooms and cooked alongside the burger.
Eat with salad and a dressing of your choice. We used mango, lime and chilli.
This is only a temporary state of affairs. I have to celebrate quickly. The state of having a completed jobslist is ephemeral. It is actually a highly unstable state. One liable to self destruct randomly in accordance with Heisenberg’s own uncertainty principle. Anne is due back late tonight. There will be a new jobslist by the weekend, on the back of a newer envelope. Let us sit in a quiet moment of contemplation…
click on the image for the full list
the bathroom radio is kaput btw. not repairable, or certainly not worth the effort.
Classic FM on the wireless set on a Sunday morning. A sausage slow cooking on top of the stove. Tea brewing in the pot. High speed internet. All is well with this world.
The world outside is in turmoil fuelled by politics, religion and human ambition. Wars continue in the Middle East. Millions of people dying or are refugees. Post Brexit referendum UK is about to enter a tailspin with the Conservative government moving to the right with no opposition. The American Presidential Elections is getting closer. Will they lose the plot and elect Trump?
…
Have a cup of tea and listen to Classic FM.
I can hear it. It is in a back garden three doors up the road. No idea what it is doing. Just the ebb and flow of its loud noise cutting through wood. Low heavy rumble and then the high pitched near scream when it comes into contact. Shutting my eyes to block out all other stimuli. A man in a white helmet, goggles and blue overalls. Drowning out the sounds of the cars that whizz by on the road. Carnage? Wanton destruction! Power. Aggression. In your face anger.I retreat to safety.
The hour is almost upon us. That hour on a Friday afternoon where responsibilities are discarded and all compasses point to the pub. It’s a strange concept where you look down at the device in your hand and the in built compass steers you towards a beer. Of course the path is well trodden and the compass is unnecessary. Nevertheless its presence is comforting. Makes you believe that were you in a strange place on the Friday afternoon the compass would see you alright.
On this occasion I have some rock classics blaring out on the SONOS courtesy of Spotify. I have been housebound for much of the day and feel the need for release. Hawkwind, Silver Machine, AC/DC Back in Black. I was never particularly into heavy rock as a youth. I can’t say I am now really but this afternoon it is working for me. This new appetite is partly in response to the the fact that I’ve played my Spotify Fave playlist to death. It needs new blood.
For all I know the phone may be ringing or there could be someone at the front door. Well they are too late. The house should be able to make people aware of the receptiveness of its occupants. It would range from yes come on in the door is open to total obliviousness that anyone is there. People could make their own decisions based on this information. Use visual means of communications perhaps instead of audible ones. Or inaudible as the case may be.
This project has been on my list longer than any I think. It’s been one of those “when a man says he will do a job he doesn’t need reminding every six months” situations. To be fair Anne hasn’t given me much grief. The blind has however been a persistent line item on the list for much of this year. I knew I would get it done eventually. I had faith in myself.
It took me approximately 90 minutes to put up this morning. I didn’t record my exact start time but I finished shortly before noon. Whilst doing the job I had the Ken Bruce show on the wireless in the garage and the front garage door open to let in some natural light.
You can see that the blind is largely cosmetic as the wall of the kitchen extension blocks out much of the light anyway and certainly the window is not in a position where privacy is required. Nevertheless if Anne want’s a blind she shall have it and I think that the end result looks attractive.
The room is the former garage that is used as a gym and store. Not much time is spent in it.
This is it. The first Online Arts Festival by philosopherontap. It is being held on Facebook and there is no limit on how many people can exhibit or just come along and see what’s going on.
The idea is that people leave a post in the event page and stick around to discuss it with others who can ask questions by commenting. The post can be a picture, painting, poem, prose and even other things not beginning with p. Could be a live piano performance (dang it p again). You can set up a live stream as a post using your phone.
Notionally the Online Arts Festival lasts from 7.30pm to 9.30pm on Tuesday November 15th but in reality you can hang around for as long as you like. If people are looking at your stuff why wouldn’t you.
Bring your own cheese and wine, or whatever floats your boat. Also feel free to tell your pals and promote the event, especially if you are going to exhibit.
Check out the Facebook event, see what you think and if you like what you see sign up.
There’s no denying we all have to wash our clothes at some stage. What was clean becomes soiled. The dirt must be expunged. There are a number of techniques for doing this. My own preferred way is to discard relevant items of clothing in the laundry basket and they reappear cleaned and pressed for me to put away (tidily). Occasionally one gets a glimpse of the process involved and the images in this post represent such an insight into the domestic situation of a “normal” household in the 21st century. There is much that can be gleaned from a picture of a clothes line. I leave you to do your own gleaning but will finish with the observation that when I look at the photograph below I keep thinking I can see the clothes swaying in the gentle Autumn breeze.
I was in the Bail waiting for John to finish his sax lesson. An accordionist was playing in Castle Hill so I went along and sat on the bench right next to him. It was a beautiful sunny evening and I said there for ten minutes or so before John turned up and we headed back to the car. He was a joy to listen to. Very talented and not blaring the sound out through an amplifier as you so often hear these days.
If I had a favourite fruit it might be the banana.
I am sure that somewhere in my past the banana sandwich has played its part. It is something I should probably revisit. Buttered crusty white bread with ripe bananas.
The banana is a versatile fruit. Banana pancakes, banana split, banana daiquiri spring to mind. I’m sure there are other fine recipes. When the kids were small we used to mash up bananas for them.
Barbecued bananas are great with brown sugar and brandy or chocolate. Add lots of double cream.
All my life I’ve peeled the banana from the stem end but someone in the family noticed an ape in a TV nature programme peeling it from the other end. Hmm. I’m not sure I can change the habit of a lifetime at the tender age of 54 ¾.
The banana skin has always been associated with slipperiness. This is a valid representation if a little unfair as no other fruit has appears to carry this burden despite some having the same slip quotient (new term – no point in looking it up).
Bananas in the shops nowadays tend to be greener and you are required to ripen them at home.
There is no point in buying too large a bunch at any one visit as they won’t all be eaten before they start to go off.
Some songs are based on bananas. Yes we have no bananas. The banana boat song. Two that spring to mind (all I could think of actually).
A fruit bowl is incomplete without a bunch of bananas.
There was (is?) a pop group called bananarama.
According to Wikipedia Bananas are an excellent source of vitamin B6 and contain moderate amounts of vitamin C, manganese and dietary fibre. Note the change of Wikipedia’s incorrect (American) spelling of fibre to the correct version.
The leaves of the banana plant can be used as plates for the eating of food and also as roofs of improvised shelters when shipwrecked on remote tropical islands.
Featured image: a duo of bananas on a black granite background.
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