Day 48 - Superb Owl

XLVIII

Roman numerals...what are they about, then?

Seriously, isn't it a weird way of writing numbers?   If you must insist on doing everything in base 10, why only have written symbols for 1, 5, 10, 50, 100 etc?   It seems an overly complex way of expressing a relatively simple idea. 

And whilst we're on the subject, why base 10?!  Clearly, the Romans were heavily influenced by the number 10...but why?  ("Why do I care?", I hear you cry...) 

I've just done a quick bit of internet research (and you know how reliable that is, of course - I looked on wikipedia and everything), and it really does seem to be simply because we have 10 fingers - decimal is by far the most common numeral system in human history. 

There are a few exceptions.  The Mayans used base 20, using all fingers and toes, for example.  And some ancient Californian/Mexican cultures use base 8, counting the gaps between the fingers, rather than the fingers themselves. 

Mainly, we humans seem to choose base 10, when given a free choice.

Maybe it's just me, but it seems to me that decimal is the least efficient system to use with 10 fingers...allow me to explain my reasoning...

How high can you count on your fingers, using decimal?  10.

But if we use any base lower than 10, we can count higher.  The lower the base, the higher the possible count. 

For example, if we used base 9, and use our left thumb to represent "10" (in base 9, indicating 1 x 9 plus 0 x 1), then we can easily count to 19...try it!

If we used base 2 we could count to 1023 on our fingers, easily.   It's no more difficult than decimal, other than that you've been conditioned to think in decimal for your whole life. 

Like if you've spoken English exclusively, then French might seem strange and complicated.  But if you were French, it might be the other way around.   Neither is objectively more difficult than the other, except for your familiarity with it.

So it is with numeral systems.  Perhaps I'm biased from a few decades in IT, where hexadecimal (base 16) was prevalent, back in the day.   I used to be able to do multiplication in hexadecimal, once upon a time.  It's a great system, and is also a simple, large number version of binary (base 2).

Ah, base 2,  the purest of all numeric systems!  I could explain that grand claim, but it'd take a while, so I'll spare you the tedium.

So why didn't we just adopt binary?   We have two hands and two feet.  We walk left, right, left, right, 1, 2, 1, 2...our hearts beat in rhythmic couplets.

It seems so much more natural, and would have been much more expansive, logical and useful, had we adopted binary instead of decimal. 

It feels (in my gut) as though there must be some underlying evolutionary effect whereby decimal is an emergent fundamental property of nature under certain circumstances.  There must be some sort of evolutionary advantage to it.   

Maybe it's that until you've exhausted all 10 fingers, you don't need another digit - being able to count to 11 doesn't matter if you're only just learning to count past 5, for instance.   So by the time we were advanced enough to need to count higher than 10, base 10 was already established.

Yeah, that'll probably be it, it's not like I'm just pulling this stuff out of my arse, eh?!

Seriously, it's all abject speculation...I've no idea of the veracity of any of that, I'm just making (sh)it up as I go along, late on a Friday night after a particularly taxing week at work...

B-) 

He is a cool and funky little Owl, though, isn't he?   He lives on our bookcase, perched on a picture frame.

Superb Owl XLVIII!

Day 47 - Happy House

genealogy shmenealogy

I've been keeping this in reserve for quite some time now...it's one of my backups for a day when I don't manage to get any photo's...and as it turns out, today is that day!

My life is so frantic at the moment, I seem to need around 20 hours to just about squeeze through all the demands of each day.   

I'm not complaining, mind.   Life is like this sometimes, it's all part of the roller coaster ride that we're on.    And it is just a ride, of course... ;-)

Bonus points for anyone who spots that reference.

Anyway, the point is, this is a brilliant work of art that my daughter Kim (Pin Snot) made for me.

The tree is cut out of a single piece of card and set on a raised bed.   Kim (Pin) designed it, cut it out and framed it, with some assistance from partner Roob (I dunno, erm...Noob?), as I understand. 

It really is beautifully designed and made, and it really does mean a lot to me.

Of course it's a lovely reminder of the happy little household we had here for a few short years.

But in some ways, it's a sad reminder too...the hole Bluez left in our lives looms large, still...   

However, the grief I still feel so keenly for Bluez isn't something wrong, to be hidden away or repressed.   

It's a reflection of how strong was my affection for him - it hurts so because I loved him so.

So I indulge the grief a little, embrace it even, as a valid expression of Who I Am.

After all, it is ultimately a simple expression of love, and thus to be nurtured.  And I'm not advocating wallowing in it...just;

...express it...let it out...move along with life...rinse and repeat...

It's a gentle and cathartic little cycle that deals with the loss honestly, and openly, and genuinely.

So...I digress...but isn't that the point?

The lovely Family Tree that Pin made for me sets me off on a little emotional journey, as all great art should do.   When I look at it, I am invariably filled with a sense of gratitude at how lucky I am to have both a happy house of lovely (and loved) souls, and a lovely (and loved) daughter who can produce something so beautiful as to remind me of the happy house of lovely, loved souls I have!

(that sentence holds together logically, I'm telling you...does too...)  :-p

So thanks Pin, if I loved it half as much as I love you twice as much as, then I'd love it twice as much as I love you half as much as, twice.

(not sure about that one, if I'm honest...) :-D

Day 46 - Oh Yes There Be

see, there be a squirrel...

It will be interesting to analyse all these photo's at the end of the year.

Certain trends will emerge, such as nature, garden wildlife, weather features...and of course rocks are going to appear at some point, for sure. 

But also, colour themes will start to become apparent, and I suspect a vibrant green will be one of the predominant ones.

There is something very soothing about the green of foliage...I often find this sort of picture attractive for that alone.

Anyway, I was pleased to get this photo after my failed attempts yesterday.  And of course, I told you so!!

I said, "there be squirrels," and here they be!

(we'll just gloss over the fact that this is in a completely different place...)

Look at him, though...he's a magnificent little thing, in his thick fur coat, with his big bushy tail keeping him perfectly balanced. 

He was out there for quite a while, feeding up on the nuts that had been put out for the birds...he needs them too, after all.

He looks quite fat, although this is partly the coat...but hopefully he's taken advantage of the late Autumn and mild early Winter, to fatten up, the better to face the inevitable chill...which appears to have now arrived.

Here's wishing our best to all the creatures that share our garden with us...we'll do what we can to help them through the cold snap...

Hang in there, little dudes!

Day 45b - Feeling Groovy

This is that special bonus video edition I was telling you about...you were paying attention, weren't you?!

Anyway, if you have ten minutes of your life to spare (which you're never going to get back), I'm still not sure I'd advise you to click on the video above...

As mentioned in an earlier post, last night was our Inaugural Funkfest Jam Session, or IFJS.   That's so ridiculous I might actually consider it as a working name, at least...then again, no, no I won't.

So only 2 of the 3 planned attendee's showed up...hmm a two piece rock band...Black Keys...White Stripes...any other shades of two out there?   Nope, it never really works for me.

Fortunately, Jool's electronic drum kit brain has a whole load of backing tracks you can play along to.   The tracks have no drums, and consist of mainly bass and keyboards.  This enabled Jools to play drums and me to play guitar, and it was more or less a whole band...Rock On!! 

As we hadn't played together in over ten years, as far as we could remember, and I haven't even picked up my guitar since my birthday, it was going to be interesting to discover how out of shape we were, musically.

So we put this little groove on, which is just 1 chord, never changes, and played along for a while.   Playing along to a fixed rhythm and chord pattern is sometimes known as "vamping", and is great for developing your improvisational skills.    You can allow the piece time to evolve, try to get into the groove, and see how well your hands work and how much you can remember. 

What I found was that whilst my hands work pretty well (thanks to climbing), I can't remember many riffs or phrases.

A helpful analogy is that it's like I had been fluent in French a long time ago, but hadn't spoken it for some years...and on trying to speak again, I find I still have the perfect accent, but I can't remember many words.

So we grooved for ten minutes or so.  It took a while to get going, and got a bit repetitive at times, but at other times it was interesting, dynamic and fluid.  We have all the wrong gear, and we're short of players...conditions were all wrong - cold, bright, late on a Winter's eve...we're rusty as anything and had no idea where we were going...

But in spite of all that, it was great fun and I think it has some potential...though I can't tell you that a 10 minute groove with little structure and no harmonic variation is particularly entertaining for a listener (you have been warned!)...

We also played a few other grungy, groovy things without the backing tracks, and they were great, but for the lack of bass.

Apart from when I played bass...then we were short of guitars...and short of singers, as I discovered that playing bass and singing at the same time is hard!!

Also, singing when you can't hear yourself because your p.a. is somewhat Heath Robinson, that's not easy, either...

And when you have no idea of either the words or the tune (as when we played thickfreakness, a track I barely know and Jools didn't know at all, after watching only the first minute of it on youtube)...well you just have to make some shit up.  

Honestly, that track was so raw and dirty, it was great!   :-D

I'm sure there'll be more to come on this little project...

I won't force you to listen to it...

Probably... ;-)

Day 45 - Here There Be Squirrels

no really, there be

Well, I'm extremely late with tonight's blog, so this is going to be a short one.  I only got in from the jam session around midnight (look out for a special bonus video edition coming soon!), and have been catching up with Anna since. 

I had another relentless day at work, but in the midst of the mayhem I found myself passing a large glass window overlooking this small garden.  Three squirrels were mooching about on the lawn, looking very much the bright eyed and bushy tailed stereotype that we know and love.

So I took a few photo's, which wasn't massively successful, as you can see...

So, in yet another special bonus edition (my word, I'm spoiling you lot, whoever you are), we have a two-for-one, BOGOF deal on the latest instalment of

Today I learned;

- taking photo's through glass rarely works well...

- Squirrels are really small when really far away...

Who knew?  And why didn't they tell me?!

Th-th-th-th-that's all, folks!

Day 44 - Too Loud Enough

Suburban nightscape

I've had the craziest day...super busy at work all day, no break, no rest, no time to eat, and some challenging situations to deal with.  Pretty full on...

Straight from work, I went to see my friend who's in the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham.   My work challenges pale into insignificance beside the challenging symptoms he's having to suffer.   And despite being in there for 10 days now, we still seem to be no nearer a diagnosis, without which it's very difficult to see a way forward.

He will really struggle to look after himself if there's no improvement, let alone to work to support himself.  He doesn't have a wide support network, and I fear he will fall through the cracks of a broken system.

So I'm trying to support him as best I can, as are two or three of his other friends and colleagues - one of us is managing to visit him every day so far.

He is on a lovely ward, in a modern, clean hospital.   The view from his (single) room looks South West across Bourneville (home of Cadbury's, and a visually distinctive place).

During the several visits I've made there over the last 10 days, I've been blessed with a selection of fascinating and even beautiful vista's;

On a sunny Winter's day, the city looked very green, and very clean, and the hills in the distance faded in the soft, hazy light.

In an afternoon storm, lightning flashed across the murky gloom, as sleet and rain whipped horizontally from the West, and the wind howled eerily through the cracks around the unlatched windows.

Tonight's view was an oddly peaceful nightscape across the suburbs, with a little light left in the sky where there was a break in the dark clouds.   The city looked warm and not too crowded, and (as in all these cases) clashed with my internal conception of Birmingham...I might need to open my mind a little on this...

How disturbing!  Eek!

Anyway I got home just after 8pm, after which I needed to eat, write a handful of mails around a complicated system I'm trying to develop to make it easy to arrange lifts for my mum, and catch up with a few people checking up on our hospitalised friend.  

And of course, write this blog!

Now I have to go and dig out guitar cases, amps, cables etc, as I'm off for a jam session tomorrow night, for the first time in years...

It's going to be loud and it's going to be raw...and I'm hoping it's going to be at least a little musical.   

I'm also hoping we can rig up some sort of p.a. system for bass and vocals, else it's all going to be somewhat imbalanced...too many guitarists - you just know how that goes!

Anywho, I think it might be time to adopt a new motto/catchphrase;

"Am I too loud enough yet?!"




Oh, one last thing, every time I visit the hospital, I see this sign, and it makes me giggle like an idiot.   

Surely this can't be a coincidence?!   

:-D

Schindler's lift...

Day 43 - Gaia Shrugged

climate change 

This is the River Leam near Princethorpe, earlier this afternoon.   It will flow from here down to join the Avon in Leamington, before winding its way to Stratford. 

I don't recall ever seeing it so high, even though I've been driving down the Fosse Way here regularly, for years and years. 

We were on our way back from a bouldering session in Loughborough.

There, we climbed 75 problems in under 3 hours, and fully down-climbed at least 50 of them.  The grades weren't particularly high - VB-V3 or so, averaging around V1, I suppose.  But it was all about the mileage.   We just kept doing climbs one after another, hardly resting at all.   

We had set a target of 40 problems for the day, but we'd done 35 by the time we stopped for coffee and a muffin.

After a 10 minute break we started to climb again, now with more intensity, and before we knew it, we'd done 40 more problems. 

I think recent efforts to improve our fitness and endurance are now starting to pay off, which is gratifying.  

We climbed really nicely too...steady and controlled, no wild lunges, no slips or falls, good footwork.   And we maintained this for at least 50 climbs, down-climbing all of them (which means reversing the climb back to the starting holds).

Most people just drop off the top of the problem, but Anna still has to protect her hip, and I'm just too heavy, stiff and clunky.   Neither of us can afford to drop from 4m up (albeit onto thick crash mats) 75 times in one day.

So we always down-climb indoor boulder problems...as much as we have the strength and energy to, anyway.  It both doubles the distance climbed, which helps endurance, and it's good practice.   You never know when you might climb yourself into a difficult situation and have to try to climb back down...better to be vaguely proficient at it, than almost completely inexperienced.

Anna had to down-climb a large, soaking wet slab at the Roaches last summer, when we were overtaken by a squall.   The down-climb was significantly more challenging than the up-climb!

With the best will and preparation, you never know when you might get caught out and a climb turns out to be more adventurous than you'd bargained for.    All of our down-climbing helps with this psychologically as well as physically.  

Anyway driving down the Soar Valley, the flooding was even worse than this...acres of land under water, the river ten times as wide as it usually is...

Are there still people who reject climate change as some sort of weird, left-wing conspiracy??

Honestly, we've really broken this planet...at least, the bits of it that we rely on.  Gaia is going to shrug, and shake us off, eventually... 

Still, if I need to be able to down-climb in order to survive, I should be good to go!

;-)

Day 42 - l'elephant

antiChristina??

I have very few photo's of people on my blog.   When I do, it's usually because they're displaying open, honest, uninhibited joy or happiness (see Day's 11 and 12).  

This evening we went to Christina's birthday bash at her home.  Christina always throws a party on or around her birthday, and celebrates more enthusiastically than would seem appropriate.

I've never understood this, being a miserable old bugger on my birthday, generally, but I've always found her excitement to be cute and amusing, if not infectious.

Tonight was no exception, as you can see.   

Ok, so I framed it badly, and the flash didn't work on my intended photo...but that's cool, Christina is a professional and can turn on the smile at the wave of a camera in her face...I'm not sure how anyone can maintain this level of positive energy without being on coke.

It all seems mighty suspicious to me...in fact, whilst I wouldn't go so far as to suggest that she's the antiChristina, could there be a little witchery going on?

Notice how the other party-goers in the photo look considerably less excited than Christina.  Look at the three expressions - which is the odd one out?  hmm?!

And yet more damning evidence - a friend of mine was at a party a couple of months ago, and spent half an hour or so chatting to Christina.  At the time he seemed mesmerised (possibly even hypnotised...entranced??), and came away from the conversation looking dazed and gleeful in equal measure, with a strange, faraway look in his eyes.  It was several days before he could concoct a coherent sentence.

Since then, his health has deteriorated rapidly, and now he's in hospital, where professors scratch their heads as they struggle to produce a diagnosis.

It's almost as though some dark force has sucked the joie de vivre out of him, and he is now withering like a flower cut off at the roots...

Amazing coincidence?  Or could it be possible that Christina is that dark force?   Does she draw in the life spirit of those around her, leaving them gasping for spiritual sustenance as she buzzes happily on their high?

Some might say that Christina is indeed the antiChristina!

Look at the picture again.  Does she look happy, or manic?

Are those the eyes of a lovely, bright, cheerful young woman, smiling at the cute little elephant?

Or an evil witch-goddess grinning maniacally at the thought of biting the baby elephants head off??

Of course I couldn't possibly suggest any such thing...you must decide for yourself...perhaps by close examination of the facts?

Fact: my friend is in hospital.   Fact: Christina seems inordinately happy.   Fact: these two things are happening at exactly the same time!

Coincidence?  Really?  

Really?!

Also, Christina the Astonishing...de facto patron saint of mental illness.

If someone was making some kind of point, it would be about now that they'd rest their case. 

Of course, I haven't made any sort of case for anything, so I'm just going to skip right along, off to bed. 

G'night all, and Happy Birthday Christina!  ;-)  x

PS ya see this is what happens when I post very late, and more than a little worse for wear...sigh...

Day 41 - Strat Me Up

he, she or it?

Crazy day at work today...you wouldn't even believe me if I explained...so I won't bother, if you don't mind. 

It did leave me short of a photo though, and whilst pondering this, I realised that I haven't really talked much about music on my blog.   Given how significant music has been in my life, this seems a travesty, so I'm here to correct that.

It's fortunate that I'm a more competent musician than photographer.   Well, not for you, as you're looking at a picture of mine, not listening to my music...sorry 'bout that. 

But whilst I couldn't get a decent photo of this guitar, due to my bumbling amateurishness, this is, in fact, a fantastic work of art (I mean the instrument, not the image).

This is my #1 guitar.  It's a Fender Stratocaster Plus Deluxe, made in the US in around 1993.   I bought it new, just as I was getting serious about playing the guitar.   It cost around £750 and is probably worth around the same now...not that I'd ever sell it.

It's been my faithful companion ever since the day I got it, over 20 years ago.   And it's as good today as it was then, if not better for being well played in.

I keep saying it, and that feels a little wrong.  Traditionally, it would be a she (check out the curves)...that doesn't feel quite right either - but it's closer than it.   

She does feel organic to me, a living thing, not merely a dumb, lifeless object.   Maybe if you heard her sing, you would be convinced...

She hasn't been out for a good few years now, but I'm hoping to take her out next week and show her a good time.

I've got a jam session lined up with my brother and a friend from work.   We're going to have to take it in turns on bass, and we're hopefully just going to bash out some raw, noisy blues, with a hint of rock and funk thrown in.  

At least, that's my agenda!  We've not all played together before so we don't really have a plan...other than that both the other guitarist and I are into the blues, so that will underscore most of what we do.   

If we gel and it's fun then we may try to put something more organised together, but for the moment, it's just for a good time making some noise with other people. 

Making communal music is an amazing thing.  It's one of those whole is greater than the sum of the parts things...it can be absolutely magical, other-worldly.   And musicians feel flow in a similar way that athletes or sports-people do.

If you can close off your conscious mind and succumb to the vibe, you can reach a state where you simply relax and allow the music to flow through you into the world.   Time slows and stops, your mind ceases to verbalise, and you are truly in the moment. 

I think that pursuit of this state is fundamentally what drives me, musically.  This is why I don't play the guitar at home on my own any more.   I need other people in order to flow...without them it's almost impossible, it seems pointless, and I lose all motivation.

I now can sometimes get a similar state when moving over rock outdoors (particularly when soloing)...hence my avid pursuit of climbing adventures, since my musical options dried up.

Making music as a group is a far richer experience than playing alone, much more engaging and satisfying.

I have some plans to try to bring a hint of this experience to those who wouldn't ordinarily get the chance (which is most everyone).   I'm developing this idea for group music sessions for non musicians, that take the form of a party where you have fun and make some music (and get drunk, if you like) under the direction of an experienced musician (me).

No, it's nothing like karaoke, before you ask...and nobody has to sing, and nobody has to do anything on their own.

However, if you are reading this, then you are hereby cordially invited to an early experiment of this idea, round at Chez Balogne and the spAnna's, sometime in the next couple of months.

You will, of course, have to let me know who you are, though...

Or just turn up...mi casa su casa...

S'all good.

Day 40 - Reconstructive Surgery

#2 climbing partners

This old pair of climbing shoes are a metaphor for me, at the moment.   Tired, and a bit worn around the edges from too much climbing, and too many adventures...as if such a thing were even possible!!  :-p

I bought this pair of shoes in September 2012, and they've accompanied me on pretty much all of my outdoor chimping escapades. 

(NB the term "chimping" is copyright Christina). 

Fun fact: that is a photo of one pair of shoes - check out the fancy trick photography on me!  ;-)

Is it obvious how that's done?  It is to me, because, ya know...I know, right?   I can't not know what I know and see if I would then work it out, see?   I'm losing you now, aren't I?!  Let's get swiftly back to the plot...my old shoes;

Climbing shoes are problematic.  You have to have a good fit - they need to be snug to your feet, preferably with no gaps.   They come in a range of styles to fit all budgets, and a variety of climbing disciplines.   Climbers often have several pairs and pick the ones best suited for the task at hand. 

When you first start climbing, though, it's hard to find suitable shoes.   The Holy Grail is that pair which fits you well, is comfortable to wear, and also performs well on the rock.    

Stockists of climbing shoes are rare, and will only hold a certain amount of stock, from a small selection of brands, in a narrow range of sizes.

Buying on the internet is risky as, if you climb in them, you can't return them...and you don't always know if they're any good until you climb in them.  

Sizing is also all over the place.  Climbers commonly go several sizes smaller than their street shoe size, and squeeze their feet painfully into them, for peak performance.  

I'm not sure if it's my age, but I really can't be doing with that.   I want my toes flat and comfortable, not scrunched up and crippling.    So I go up a few sizes...I'm definitely built for comfort, not for speed!!

This was my 4th pair of climbing shoes, and the first pair where I'd really got it right.  And that was in part because the 3rd pair I had was almost identical, just one European size smaller.   They were a bit tight for all day use, hence I bought these in a 47, for all day comfort.

When we started climbing outdoors in late 2012, I had several pairs of shoes available. 

From the first time I wore this pair, they were my go to shoes for every climb for the next 12 months.   

They took me up early boulder problems at Cratcliffe Tor, and I learned to climb gritstone slabs in them in March 2013...they were with me on my first top rope climbs at Birchen Edge, and my first lead climbs at Windgather Rocks...my first multi pitch climbs, at Tremadog and Holyhead Mountain...many trips to the Peak, including amazing adventures at The Roaches...and down and then up dramatic sea cliffs in an idyllic setting in Pembrokeshire.

They've been with me up easy diffs, hard VS's, frozen slabs, epically exposed buttresses, featureless boulders and dank green chimneys.  

They only began to fade in the magical Forest of Fontainebleau in September 2013.   And then I simply started a gradual, slow transition to an identical but brand new pair of the same shoes. 

This transition has only just completed, as in the last 2 weeks I'm now exclusively using their replacements, and I am about to send this old pair off to be resoled.

I hope it breathes new life into them...they have given me confidence to attempt many daunting feats, the grip to succeed in those feats, and they've been as comfortable as old slippers all the way...brilliant!   

I didn't realise until writing this how fond I am of these old Scarpa Forces.  

If Anna has been my number one adventuring partner, these shoes have been number two. 

And now they're old and tired, and in need of a rest and a bit of reconstructive surgery. 

Having climbed 6 times in the last 2 weeks, and on each occasion trying to push hard through the pain barrier, in order to boost my fitness in time for sport climbing in Spain in a few weeks, I feel pretty much the same...very old, absolutely exhausted, really in need of sleep...and who couldn't use a nice bit of a surgical lift, eh?

I'm Duty Manager in the morning, and therefore have to be at my desk, less than 8 hours from now...

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Day 39 - Let's Play a Game of...

...fuck off

Now this is interesting.  This afternoon, whilst visiting a friend in hospital in Birmingham, I had the now-familiar mantra needling away in the back of my mind, "need a photo for the blog..."

When I spotted this artwork just outside the main entrance, I took my opportunity.   As I approached across the busy forecourt, the crowds miraculously parted to give me an almost perfect shot.

I must confess that I was only half paying attention to framing the shot, as the last person I passed was a tall, military-looking guy dressed all in black.   He was standing as if on guard, in what appeared at half glance to be light combat gear, and a flak-jacket with SECURITY in white letters across the back. 

Consequently, as I was taking the shot, my mind was rushing round in circles trying to fathom exactly what sort of threat they were guarding against.

It turned out that these Security personnel were spread liberally around the hospital, including some stationed outside wards.

I have to confess, I'm baffled.  Ok, so they weren't obviously carrying firearms, and the flak jacket was more likely one of those stab-vests, but still, is there really that much of a threat?

Is this unique to Birmingham, or to big cities, or to the UK?   I've never seen it before, and I have to say I found it mildly disturbing on a number of levels.   

But anyway, that's all a bit of a digression...

When I first checked my photo's I was disappointed that judging by the sculpture base, the camera must have been wonky.  I felt that I'd not been that inaccurate, no matter how distracted.  Could the sculpture really be leaning as it appears to be?  It didn't seem likely, yet I felt that it was.

Then I noticed the overhead walkway support just to the left of the sculpture itself, and I can see that the camera was actually straight, and the sculpture is indeed leaning crazily!

Was this deliberate?   Or a bit of disjointed planning?   Did they figure it's abstract, so it doesn't really matter?  I wonder how the artist feels about it...

What is it, anyway, and what does it mean?   Once again, I feel the need to confess that I haven't had a moment to put any thought into that...all I see when I look at it is a big, two-fingered "Fuck off"!

Hmm, now I am thinking...who would be the target of this demeaning insult?

Maybe it's from the artist to the inept planners who paid him, but you just know they messed him about infuriatingly all the way?

Or from the NHS to all of us Plebs who turn up thinking we're going to get some sort of treatment or diagnosis?

Or from the government to the NHS, for sucking up huge wedges of cash that could otherwise be spent on guns and bombs and warships, for no discernible reason (again, where's the threat?!).

I bet there'll be some official explanation, that it represents new life and health emerging from the infinite potential of the singularity, or some such vagueness.   If only I could be bothered to go and find out using, oh I don't know, some sort of web page that acted as way of finding other webpages or something?   

The point of all of which is, of course, that it wasn't me that was wonky, it was the sculpture. 

Also, there are a lots of things we just don't know.   For instance, do you know how many questions there are in this blog post?  Well, there was 12, but now there's 13. 

That's a lot of questions!   I remember them all fondly, and yet I don't recall many answers (previous paragraph excluded). 

As I said at the top...now, this is interesting...  

Or is it just me? :-p



PS for those of you paying attention, here's the punchline to today's Title and Caption;

You go first.

Day 38 - Chaos Ensues

Spring?!

Late last night, as I was arriving home following a hospital visit in Birmingham, the frost was beginning to set in.   There was a definite nip in the air, and the minor road that leads past our house had just the first hint of slipperiness.  

As I turned into the single track road we actually live on, I flipped onto full beam.  I always hope to spot a fox, badger, or deer passing by down the quiet lane.

I don't know why, though - we never see anything but the occasional rabbit.   And that's only if you don't count Loz, who's often prowling the hedgerows down the lane, looking for easy prey.  We've seen all of these animals, some of them regularly.  But never when we turn into the lane in the car.  

Yet still, I nearly always wonder if this will be the night, as I did last night. 

Of course, there was nothing down the lane...

I pulled into our car park and reversed into my space (it's not really a space, it's just the place where I always park).   As I did so, I spotted these shoots in the foot of the hawthorn hedgerow that marks the boundary of our property. 

They're daffodils, sprouting early, it seems to me, in anticipation of Spring!

:-)

Three inches tall, with that lovely fresh green colour that new foliage has. 

I vowed to get a snap of them before work in the morning, and above is the pleasing result.  There's a trace of frost on them, although a bright sun behind them ensures a rapid thaw along this particular hedgerow. 

Anyhow, I'm left with mixed emotions...

On the one hand, it's uplifting to see the first traces of new life emerging after the dark, deathly Winter.

On the other, I fear that Winter is yet to show its full hand.   It's been so mild, and the last few seasons have been so late, that it seems reasonable to predict that Winter too is behind schedule, and will be with us shortly.

In which case these young daffs are going to struggle to survive.

The changing climate seems more noticeable and has more of an impact each year, or at least, it feels that way.  

The debate, somehow, rages on, mainly over whether the change is caused by man.  

This seems to be a diversionary tactic.  It seems obvious that we have done this, and in any case it's clear that it is happening.   Why does it matter whether or not we caused it?   Isn't that just about blame?

The debate should be around how we fix it (probably not feasible)...or how we deal with the inevitable sweeping changes the planet is about to undertake (or perhaps has already begun)...or at least about how sensible it is to go on treating the planet as we do. 

Nature likes balance.  It's just basic maths and physics.   These are not man made, they're fundamental properties of reality, so far as we can understand it. 

When something gets out of balance within a system, an area of high pressure is created, alongside an equivalent area of low pressure.   As the system moves further away from a position of balance, the pressure increases.   Eventually, if balance is not restored, and injection of additional pressure is maintained, the system explodes.  

Chaos ensues.

Elements within the system swing wildly in number, and volume, and behaviour, in largely unpredictable ways, until balance begins to be restored and the systems starts to settle down again. 

We have for too long considered that we are separate to nature, above it, somehow - as though the rules of nature don't apply to us.  

And so, we've used technology to push all of Earth's systems a long way out of balance, to support and fuel our short term "progress".  

We are not above Nature.  The fundamental properties of the Universe apply to us as they apply to all things.  

It may be too late the prevent the descent into Chaos...but then balance will slowly be restored, as it was after the dinosaurs.  They were wiped out by the immediate injection of a colossal amount of pressure in a very short time frame, when the comet hit what we now know as the Gulf of Mexico.  

We've spread the insertion of a similar amount of pressure over a century or so.  Taking all that coal and oil out of the ground and burning it on the surface...how is that not immensely unbalancing?!

I think I shall rein in the rant, as it could go on, and it's late.

Essentially, I think we've made a mess of the planet, and I think Nature will attempt to deselect us, and I even think that's probably a good thing. 

It certainly would be from the perspective of all the other species.

Like these poor daffodils, that can no longer read the weather...

But don't let all that depress you.  

Rather, simply Be in the moment...enjoy the silence...see the beauty in tiny shoots and rays of light...love yourself and all in your world (that's all everything, not just all humans, or all of your family...all everything).  

Do these things, and you will know peace and contentment.

PS Here's a bonus pic that I took of the same hedgerow....well, the hole I cut in it that we use to sneak directly into the field... ;-)

Hidden door

Day 37 - Morning Glory

what's the story?

Getting older is weird.  In many ways you know yourself very well, and can predict with a fair amount of certainty how you will react in any given situation.   

But in opposition to that, you change in a variety of ways, and this can lead to unanticipated and surprising responses in oneself.  

For instance, as your physical robustness diminishes, and recovery gets harder, motivation to make challenging demands of yourself naturally diminishes with it.

That may seem a bit rich coming from me, given both my recent and imminent adventures, but I can explain it!

One of many things I have learned over the last few years is that it boils down to a choice:

You can either do nothing, be weak, and feel achy and uncomfortable from the inactivity...or you can push yourself, be strong, and feel achy and uncomfortable from the activity.

I choose to override the temptation to take it easy, and instead to go and do stuff that will hurt later, but in a good way.   The satisfying pain of weakness leaving your body is infinitely preferable to the dull, unpleasant ache of lethargy. 

The choice, to me, appears to be - liberation, or stagnation.

Doesn't even seem like there's a choice really, when put that way, does it?  Isn't it a no-brainer?

Before you 'cuse me, I think it's fair to say that my strenuous activities and adventures are not borne of a boundless zest for life, and overflowing reserves of excess energy.   Quite the opposite, I have to fight the disinclination to get out of bed, and the general tendency towards idleness and lethargy, and roughly countermand the voice of caution in favour of the call of the wild.

I have to make myself go out and do stuff, knowing that I'll enjoy it and be glad I did it later, even when that idea seems infeasible at the time. 

So when I got up this morning and opened the curtains to be greeted by this beautiful crisp, white landscape, I was initially surprised to find it was so cold (it didn't feel it).  But at the same time, I was taken aback at the unexpected beauty. 

Equally unexpected was a desire to go out there in the frosty morning.   Where on Earth did that come from?  For my whole life, my response to such experiences would have been "brrr, freezing, can I go back to bed please?" 

So what's changed?   Part of it is ageing, I have to admit.   

But it's also down to suitable clothing.   Anna and I have recently discovered the amazing benefits of technical outdoor apparel, made using modern manufacturing technologies and space age materials.   We've found that the layering system really works if you understand it and apply it, and that a basic understanding of the body's thermal regulation abilities helps too. 

I now have a range of clothing that is warm, strong, light, robust, with lots of features, and for the most part, fits me well (which is a novel joy in itself).  I find myself looking for an opportunity to go out wearing it!  Weird...

And consequently, it no longer looks "cold" out there, and in fact instead it looks crisp and clean and pleasant and inviting.  

Driving home this evening, I reflected on how fortunate I am to wake up to such a lovely view (or at least the possibility of, or potential for such a view).   Even in the bleak mid-winter, it's still a joy to live here in the countryside.

Then I got home and Anna said, "Oh, before I forget, something died in our bedroom somewhere.  It stinks.  Can you see if you can find anything?"

So yeah, mostly it's a joy to live here...

Day 36 - Rock 'n' Robbin'

I know, right?!

It was definitely a boys weekend this weekend.  Computer games, good food (or bad, depending on your perspective), and beer.   More or less in that order. 

Oh, and bank robberies.  Lots of lovely bank robberies...

I didn't have the most physically comfortable weekend.  Between a heavy, strenuous climbing session, an unfamiliar bed, a somewhat un-supportive seating arrangement for gaming, and not forgetting, just plain old being 50, pretty much everything hurts now. 

Not in an intense, distracting way, I'm just vaguely feeling tired and a little battered and bruised. 

Dave had it worse, having tweaked his back at some point during the weekend.  Hope it improves soon, Dave!

Others have it worse still, such as my colleague from work who's now in hospital, hopefully getting the relief he's been needing.

Surveying the scene in the lounge, however, it's clear (to me, at least) that time's, they are a-changin'.

Back in the glory days of the LAN Party (say, the mid-late 90's), the scene above would be somewhat different.

In those days, the screens would have been small, cubic CRT's, and the gamers would be hunched over a mouse and keyboard at some sort of makeshift desking arrangement.  Even in game, the players would have been bunny-hopping everywhere, in the sometimes mistaken belief that you can move faster whilst jumping.

Today's gamers?  They just lounge back on their comfy armchairs, lightweight, ergonomic controller resting lightly between their relaxed arms and fingers, and in-game they just run everywhere because pressing that jump key is just too much effort. 

As do we, I realised, somewhat depressingly.   We've devolved from hardcore PC gamers into over-glamorised-console consumers.

It's all so easy now.   When ah' were a lad, you had to put some effort in if you wanted to just play a game.  Installation alone could be a daunting technical nightmare.

If you wanted to play a game with somebody else, well, that was a challenge of relatively gargantuan proportions.   It took much planning, research, experimentation, tweakage, acquisition and configuration...not to mention the hefty sacrifice of blood, sweat and tears that the gaming Gods required before they'd grant a miraculous connection established to host message.

Tell that to't kids of today, they'll not believe you!

Still, Back on topic, bank robberies!!  We've been playing a game called PayDay, where you play a team of bank robbers on a heist.   You have to case the joint, then put on these freaky clown masks and hold it up.   You have to do some crowd control, get the access codes from the Bank Manager, locate the vault and drill into it, steal some bags of money and raid any safety deposit boxes.   Finally, once loaded with loot, fight your way out (assuming the alarm was raised and you're now surrounded by Police and SWAT teams), and get to the getaway vehicle. 

Brilliant Cops and Robbers fun. 

Late last  night, a little heisted out, we decided to watch a movie.  We casually flicked through our options, and settled on a film called 2 Guns, which looked (at a glance) like some kind of Mafia crime drama.

And so we found ourself, much to our surprise, watching a story of a pair of criminals involved in a heist. 

Throughout the course of the film, they decided to rob a bank, and so had to case the joint.   When they went in, they wore freaky clown masks, did the crowd control, got the key from the manager, stole the bags of money...fought their way out, escaped in getaway vehicle.

It was eerily similar.   It felt like we were still playing the game, but it had gone onto auto, so freeing our hands up to stuff more sugary indulgences into our pale faces.  

Funniest thing was, we were all so much the worse for wear that it took us until about half way through before we really twigged.   I'm sure that up to that point, some part of us thought we were still playing PayDay.

I feel as though the universe is trying to tell me something...

Something about bank robberies...

Hmm...

;-)