limp

Lettuce-ly speaking I am rather inclined to limpness at the moment, browning a little around the edges, under attack by slugs and reeling from the salad-spinner.

I hope to return to a more green and crispy presence both here and in your comments before too long, but in the meantime will attempt to keep posting pictures of one sort or another.

spring

Flowers for Vicky, 1930-2007.

Cat tales

Logan has been helping me with some college work.

He finds the essays quite comfortable, which is something in their favour,

and sometimes they can even be fun.

Not as much fun, however, as watching mice through the window

Which, in turn, is not as much fun as catching them and then playing.

Logan thinks mice are the Best Toys Ever.

:o/

Water - randomly

There are holes in the sky where the rain comes in

But they're ever so small, thats why rain is thin.

by Spike Milligan

The Thames Flood Barrier, Charlton (just down the road from me). 

We have recently been assured that the barrier will go on working until 2070, rather than 2030 as previously thought.

Though I assume that it very much depends which side of the barrier you are on....

River in the Dordogne, France (sorry, feeble lack of precision).

Water like molten gold.

Royal Victoria Dock, East London (just across the river from me)

Storm King park, New York State  (with Andy Goldsworthy's dry stone wall)

The Thames near Westminster.

Swimming regularly - helps keep me going at the moment.

As does the thought of a summer holiday in Jersey, with long walks by the sea:

Video - Suffolk, East coast of England. Unknown dog.

Water - a Thursday Theme

Pool of garbage

Only on flickr...

In my inbox, an invitation to join the 'Pool of Garbage'.

["pools" on flickr refer to groups who collect and contribute photos on a particular theme to the group pool.]

I do belong to a number of rubbish and garbage groups on flickr.

Some of them are quite specific - "Rubbish in the river", "I hate shopping trolleys".

Here is a selection of my "rubbish" photos:

I add pictures to these pools, but don't often go there to browse, its rather depressing.

Possibly the most bizarre group or pool invitation I've ever had on flickr is an invitation for this photo:

invited to be part of the "tea tags" group.

I kid you not.

Its an indication of the weirdness of the world of flickr that I didn't think "how amazing!  theres a tea tag group, who would have thought it!". 

No, I thought  "where's my head?  should have thought to look for the tea tags group."

Maybe its also an indication of something or other that I found the existence of such a group somehow strangely heartening....

The garden is full of petals from the crab-apple tree, like confetti on the grass.

It does look good enough to eat.

Flower days

Did you know that wine might taste better, depending on which day of the week it is?

or which hour of the day?

And I don't just mean that it tastes better on Friday night, because.....  its Friday night!

Or that it tastes better on holiday because.... you're on holiday!

Or that it will taste better on the days when your richer and more fussy friend is buying....

No, there is apparently increasingly widespread acceptance of the view that the taste of wine changes with the lunar calendar - that wine from the same bottle might taste considerably better on Tuesday than on Friday because of the way wine as an organic substance is affected by lunar and cosmic rhythms.

Or it might taste better at 8pm than at 4pm.

I learned this from my Saturday Guardian*, which enlightened me about the concept of "Fruit" and "Flower" days (best for wine-drinking) and "root" or "leaf" days (which are worst).

Some major retailers in the UK set their critics-tasting days according to this calendar.

They have "not shared [this] belief with customers for fear it will add yet more mystique to wine...  It may be a little step beyond what consumers can comprehend... We don't want to make it more complicated." (source: a Tesco's manager quoted in the article)

Well, personally I'm delighted to have the pleasure of wine enhanced by this extra complication and mystique.  I've seen one response, in a letter to the Guardian, suggesting that this is a belated April Fool's joke.

But I hope its true.

Cheers, and heres to the next fruit/flower day.

* Credit for this story to Robert Booth, "Tesco and supermarket rivals go for wine tasting by moonlight", The Guardian 18/04/09

futures

I think it was through watching Trading Places that I first became aware of the notion of "futures trading" - buying and selling goods not yet produced, on the basis of expert projections  (I think??).  Central characters in the film make huge amounts of money dealing on the basis of educated guess work and privileged information about future production - production which could be affected by a range of uncontrollable elements including weather and global politics.

Well its all old news now of course and we are all so much more familiar with the concept, the processes, the folly, the hubris and greed and catastrophic outcomes of that kind of finance.

But I have been thinking about futures quite a bit lately, with uncertainty about both my future employment and M's. 

So thats us. Along with  thousands - at least - of other people.

And I've been thinking about what a privileged position we personally are in to have the luxury of worrying and stressing about our future.  It is undoubtedly a gross obscenity the way banks, businesses and individuals have made fortunes out of the lives and futures of those less powerful and less informed. But even those of us who have been less powerful and less informed may still be living hugely privileged lives. 

Its really hard to write about this without sounding trite or glib but even being in a position of worrying about old age and pensions, or worrying about paying the mortgage for the next year or month or week - thats a luxury.  A luxury in comparison with the lives of hundreds of thousands around the world who aren't sure if they will eat this day or this week, or whether they will be alive tomorrow.

And I'm not quite sure what to make of the fact that my best survival tactic at the moment is to live as much as possible in the present.  To appreciate the very many good things in my life, to smell the sweet spring air and enjoy the flowers (and the tadpoles) and spend as much time as possible with family and friends.  To live life every day, rather than being defined and determined by anxiety about the future which is, after all, uncertain.

I'm not quite sure what to make of this in the light of the experience of those hundreds of thousands who have no choice but to live absolutely only in the present because that is all they have. My living in the present is so much an entirely different kind of reality from their living - or surviving, if they can -  in the present.

I am uneasy about the fact that thinking about this gulf of difference makes me feel better about my life and more able to cope. 

It does make me think that focussing on living in the present as a way to counterbalance the uncomfortable "luxury" of concern about the future is therefore a kind of double-luxury.

My brain is in danger of getting entirely tangled up with these thoughts, especially at a rather early hour for Saturday morning (I will probably post this rather later after checking that it is at least semi-coherent...) (semi-coherent is good enough, right?)  so I shan't go on any more.

But there is a post here at  Brian Miller's blog  which expressed very well a truth I have to go on and on trying to remember and live by.

And here is the latest tadpole update, about 4 weeks old, wriggling around with - I'm guessing - no thoughts of tomorrow.

Earth

Ploughed earth in Suffolk, UK

I am hoping that before too long, there will be little green shoots of basil, sweet majoram and dill emerging from the earth in these pots.

Here is some spinach which is already emerging, further down the garden.

And I think I have blogged before about compost, but I make no apology for repeating myself because I wonder every year at the magic which turns this

into this

The magic of the earth recycling and renewing itself.

A Theme Thursday post

glimpses

of spring

in my garden

eggs

Today's Thursday Theme is Egg.

So here is some more about my frogspawn.

There is a nostalgia about frogspawn and tadpoles, for me (more than easter eggs or chocolate bunnies in fact) as something associated with childhood, with primary school classrooms and spring and family outings to countryside ponds with jam-jars at the ready.

Outings such as this in fact:

which is from Further Doings of Milly-Molly-Mandy by Joyce Lankester Brisley,  this copy given to me by my Auntie Chris and Uncle Pete on the occasion of my 4th birthday.

Milly-Molly-Mandy went on exciting excursions like this with her friend Billy Blunt 

and what better time for such excursions than a Bank-holiday Monday?

(do other countries have Bank holidays?)

She did other largely more girly things with "little-friend-Susan" and was quite a well-rounded and appealing character.  

I am sure that you'll be reassured to know that Milly-Molly-Mandy and Billy Blunt did indeed catch tadpoles, and also that they later returned the tadpoles to their natural habitat.

Last year my frog pool had no frogspawn or tadpoles, though I did catch sight of a shy but reassuring frog or two, just once or twice in late summer and autumn.

The year before that I had imported tadpoles from a friend's pond into my little pool where they grew and wriggled and thrived and then hopped away.

This coincided, 2 years ago,  with my mother's last few weeks of living and dying - and I find myself, actually, without words - though I'd intended to write something about the significance, for me, of the tadpoles and froglets and process and season.

But I do (as nearly always) have a picture - this was taken last Sunday, a week after the "emergence"  of the frogspawn: 

I can age-stamp the spawn in this photo fairly exactly because I was a witness to the process of its production - not intentionally, I hasten to add.  It took me a while to realise there were two frogs there, not just the one.... they were so still!  and I did then creep away not wanting to disturb them - or to appear "disturbed" myself.

This reminded me that when I was a student, years ago, I came across mention of a textbook of Roman Catholic casuistry - a book listing and categorising sins.  

Recommended bedtime reading in the C17th no doubt.

This particular text apparently stated that watching the procreation of mammals and/or large animals was a mortal sin [Big Bad = eternal damnation unless "dealt with" through the sacraments of the Church]  but watching small animals or insects or birds "at it" was only a venial sin [Little, Less bad = purgatory at worst].

I can't remember if frogs were mentioned specifically.  I imagine they came in the latter category.

Lets hope so, eh?

Since I took this photo, the frogspawn are significantly more tadpole-shaped, and the blobby jelly seems to be almost completely dissolved. So I suppose they are actually nearly egg-less now - hatched, in fact -  but they don't yet show any signs of wiggling.

I check on them daily.

I think part of the reason this is so all fascinating is that frogspawn and tadpoles allow us transparently to observe a process which is normally hidden away secretly,  inside the egg or womb.  We can watch and wonder at the whole amazing transformation from blobby egg to springy spronginess.

how fantastic!

I will keep you updated.

I've had a day full of satisfying home and garden activity and really wanted to post something, but my brain seems rather empty.

My mind does sometimes shut down these days, as if to tell me that its done enough thinking lately and has nipped out for a break, leaving the office unattended.

It could, of course, be age-related but I prefer to think that this is another symptom of my newly discovered and greatly-prized ability to say "NO" sometimes.

Or else maybe the physical therapies of messing about in the dirt, cleaning windows and sorting out storage problems has lulled the poor tired grey cells (I prefer to think of them as green, actually) into a happy trance from which they are reluctant to emerge.

And rather than try to kick-start them into activity, I shall just lapse into silence now and leave you with whichever random recent photo takes my fancy:

cranes in central London, near the British Museum

and with this from my latest music discovery, Bat for Lashes, who I think is just FANTASTIC:

TEN

10 p.m.

10 a.m.

10 24/7

"Ten" thanks to  Theme Thursday

lithops

Reya asked for a picture of my new computer, so here it is, but it did occur to me that it looks scarcely very different from the old computer which has appeared here before, in situ.  A bit shinier maybe, cleaner and brighter.  And a far superior keyboard which will no longer hoard toast crumbs and general spong.

Otherwise, much the same, at least on the outside ...

But next to my new computer is a new plant which I'm also rather pleased about.

 

I remember a college friend having one/some of these, I was fascinated at the time. They are called lithops - literally "stone-like" - and they really are like little pebbles.  Also rather like little brains or aliens.

I found and bought this one with another London blogger at a delightful nursery in North London, where we didn't find lunch but we did find lithops.

And see how many different kinds and colours there are:

image from here

(and when did amazon start selling plants??)

(i'd have ordered one of these if they weren't out of stock...)

image from here

It will hopefully flower in the autumn or winter.

Whilst googling to learn more about lithops, I found this blog.  Isn't that wreath extraordinary?  I also love succulents and have quite a few varieties in the garden (and some indoors) though my succulents are not as succulent as her succulents. 

But I do have a hanging basket filled with them which is coming along quite nicely, it is a sort of tribute to Barcelona after a wonderful weekend there some years ago when I admired the cascades of houseleeks trailing tumbling and dangling from the balconies.

Given the choice of computer or lithops I would indeed choose the computer.  To say otherwise would be just silly talk.

But I am happy to have both.

Springing

back into bloglife

with a bright shiny new computer which is mine.

(for the first time ever in my life. And as a 3rd child I grew up used to hand-me-downs and I have a great affection and respect for second-hand-ness. 

But I love having a brand new bright shiny computer all for me.)

(and for LG whenever she is here and I am not)

(And Logan [kitten] sees my computer chair quite definitely as his)

(along with any random pens, paperclips or small chase-able things)

The garden is also springing, despite the miserable chillyness of this end of the week.

I am springily delighted to report that there is frogspawn in my little frog pool, despite lack of frogspawn last spring. 

I inadvertently chanced upon some frogs in the pool at the weekend, engaged in .... froggy activity....

Frogporn, as LG put it. 

Duly followed by a large splodge of frogspawn.

I  will be posting regular reports and pictures as the frogspawn develops into little wiggly things.

Which before too long, I hope, will be little springy sprongy things.

break

Regents Park tube station, London


Well this has now become a proper blog break, though I'm intending it will be only brief.

In addition to "life" pre-occupations and a week-long visit of the in-laws, my computer has finally given up the ghost and refuses to respond to any kind of coaxing.

Feeling more than a little monetarily reckless and irresponsible - given our uncertain employment future - we have nonetheless ordered a new one for me. Computers have become so central to both our work and other important aspects of life....

....

... justifications over...


I'm just looking forward to its arrival, and I fully intend to return to full and proper blogging once it is in place and all set up.

stair-cat

The stairs are quite tall and steep, for such a little cat, so sometimes he stops part-way down for a rest.




Sometimes he sits like this for some time.


He notices the dust and thinks that it would be a more comfortable spot for sitting if the stairs were hoovered more frequently.




Thursday Theme: animals


Disclaimer: I'm on a semi-blog break, not much visiting your blogs or visiting and not commenting much... bear with me. I hope to be a more interactive blogger again some time.

More Springlike. No sitting.

Greenwich Park


Brighter and warmer than the previous, but still not great for sitting.






Disclaimer: I'm on a semi-blog break, not much visiting your blogs or visiting and not commenting much... bear with me. I hope to be a more interactive blogger again some time.

Spring

Blackheath

Parts of the UK have had heavy snow again in the past week.
Not in London.

But I have enough pictures of February's snow to last for some time to come ...










4 pictures in Greenwich Park




Disclaimer: I'm on a semi-blog break, not much visiting your blogs or visiting and not commenting much... bear with me. I hope to be a more interactive blogger again some time.

Part of the Royal Naval College in Greenwich, designed by Christopher Wren, completed in 1752.

Glimpses of sunlight and left-over snow (same day as picture on previous post).
Where I work. Some of the time. And for the time being.

Site of a lot of filming, including Stage Beauty, Wolf Man and The Duchess.

So there.




Disclaimer: I'm on a semi-blog break, not much visiting your blogs or visiting and not commenting much... bear with me. I hope to be a more interactive blogger again some time.

blog break lapse mute maybe...

Snowman corpses in Greenwich Park last month, looking up from the Maritime Museum up to the Royal Observatory.



Well.

I've been musing about whether or not to continue blogging having felt.... distanced... distracted.... muse-less... and largely wordless as well.


Each time I begin mentally to write a post saying something to that effect, I find myself becoming verbosely wordy. In my head.

Hah.

"know thyself"



And just look at this ridiculous blog title which is just as it fell out of my head.
Once I sit and begin to type, the words are clamouring in my head to get out here. But I'm not at all convinced they are words worth putting on a page.


Well, I really don't want to witter on here with too many words.
But I don't want to stop blogging by default rather than by decision.

And I'm not sure I really want to stop blogging anyway.



So.... what then?

Well, firstly, I do apologise that I'm not getting around to your blogs very much at the moment. And when I do sometimes visit, I am wordless and not commenting...

And secondly, I plan to post much more frequently, but primarily picture posts.


Unless I find myself thinking of words.
Words which aren't woeful... or witless...
... or too wordy.



Hows that for a plan?