On the move

Past and future posts for this blog have been integrated with my "posh" blog under the category "wry" and can be found at http://www.frothyfilosofy.wordpress.com/      I hope you will continue to follow my wistful and wry observations on life.

Elephant in the Room

She: "I think it is time we talked about the, you know, the elephant  in the room."

He: "I wondered when you would get round to mentioning that."

She: "It has been on my mind a long time. I was waiting for you to explain, but it looks like I will be waiting forever."

He: "Explain? I don't understand."

She: "What do you mean, you don't understand? I'm talking about the elephant in the room."

He: "I know what you're talking about, but I thought it was yours."

She: "What do you mean you thought it was mine?"

He:  " The elephant. I thought it was your elephant."

She: "Mine? Why would I need an elephant?"

He: "I don't know. I thought it best not to ask. As an aide-memoire maybe."

She: "It is not my elephant. I thought it was yours."

He: "Mine? Why would I need an elephant?"

She: "I've no idea. I thought it might have been a 'man thing'."

He: "Let's get this straight. It's not your elephant. It's not my elephant. What the hell is it doing here?"

She: "You mean that for months we have organised our lives around a huge animal that had nothing to do with either of us? Oh, that's just brilliant. Day after day having to edge round the sides of the room to get from one end to the other, watching TV through its legs as we balanced our meals on trays ever fearful of it having a 'little accident'. Not to mention the huge insrease in our food and water bills. What are we going to do?"

He: "Entice it out with a row of buns and never mention it again."

Chip News

Our local evening newspaper had an enticing offer to recruit new readers the other day - free chips. I'm not sure if the chips came ready-wrapped in the paper. I would have thought the last thing the people of this good town needed was to eat more chips.

A Walk in the Park

On sunday morning I went for a walk in the park. This was not easy. It involved detailed preparations to protect myself against the cold. A fresh covering of snow had been carefully placed over the town during the night.

I took my camera to capture the beauty of the morning. I met some swans who were walking on thin ice - not in terms of their attitude towards me, they really were on thin ice.

I followed the course of the miniature railway that winds its way around the lake. No trains on this day. I kept on the right side of the tracks for most of the way. At one point I walked close to the edge of the lake. The whole experience signalled the start of a day of cliches. At the end of the day I went to bed.

Birthday Message

I imagine that Declan from Finedon is feeling fine today because it is his 18th birthday. Someone has a fine love for Declan from Finedon.

I possess these two pieces of knowledge because they took the trouble to find - in Finedon - an old grey sheet with faded memories of once being pristine white. How we all age. And having found the sheet, they imaginatively and creatively used a can of black paint to spray "18 Declan" on it.

Furthermore, they took this thoughtful and heartfelt message a stage further in Finedon and draped it over the roundabout so everyone could find out about Declan of Finedon on what would have otherwise been a dull drive to work on a Monday morning. 

Car Park by Escher

I had a strange feeling when I visited one of the multi-storey car-parks in Northampton the other day. This was not the sole purpose of the trip, of course, just a necesary by-product. It was very busy and so I had to drive up to quite a high level - not in relation to my standard of driving but in relation to the levels in the carpark you understand.

On leaving the car-park I had the distinct impression that the downward journey was a  lot longer than the upward journey, leading me to speculate that we were caught in an impossible construction designed by M. C. Escher and some how appropriated by Stephen King such that we were doomed to go round forever. Northampton often has this effect on me.

Metaphorical Forecast

We have just received a forecast from the metaphorical office. A band of cold weather is marching towards the south, with a strong wind section and occasional bouts of percussion. It will reach a crescendo over Essex before dispersing into several bars, where it will cause some local disturbances. Wear ear-muffs and gloves if you want to look cool in Southend.

Stone Warning

Saturday morning found me as usual in the local supermarket, idly looking at the delicatessen counter. My attention was drawn to a notice which informed me that the olives "may contain olive stones". I admire the store for their attention to detail, for their desire to spare me any shocks or surprises, for managing my expectations so effectively. If they had just warned me of the presence of stones, I could have travelled home in eager anticipation of finding plum stones or apricot stones in my olives. This would be great for me - I do not want to turn my small garden into an olive grove, but another plum tree would be nice. Imagine my disappointment to find only olive stones!

The situation could have been worse. At least the store did not fall victim to the misplaced apostrophe - that would have been a catastrophe. I would have spent the rest of the day wondering about Olive Stone's contribution to the marinated olives.

Dark Energy

Troubled sleep since hearing about dark energy and the ever-expanding universe. How can I hope to keep up? I think we need some lighter matters to counteract all the dark matter. My most worrying thought was that the universe is actually within a games console. There are thousands of levels and whoever playing it is slowly improving. But there comes a point when it all collapses in on itself and the player has to start again. The big bang is just a re-boot. Maybe this is the highest level that has ever been achieved - in the history of the universe! I fear I have just missed out on this year's Nobel prize. A quick "share" to the committee's Facebook page should secure it for me next year.

The Lives of Lesser Known Fauna

The stag night beetle lives on lager and kebabs.

The black Scottish widow spider lives on a good pension.

The ant eloper lives on the run with his young bride. He is pursued by ant depressants.

The Colorado beetle lives in permanent envy of his wealthy cousin the El Dorado beetle.

Puzzled in Luton

They have made changes at Luton station. I passed through the ticket barrier as usual on my way to a meeting, following people ahead of me. I found myself at street level but on the opposite side of the street I normally found myself on. I re-traced my steps to see if I had taken a wrong turn. I had not. They had removed a bridge. Instead of going across and then down, I now had to go down and then across. It felt as though I was taking part in a surreal crossword puzzle, clearly without a clue. I was happier with the bridge.

Little Surfer Buoy

I have redefined what it is to be a surfer. This is my interpretation, honed to theoretical perfection in the frozen steppes of Northamptonshire and executed with acute embarrassment on the Cornish coast. It is an elegant equation that links expenditure of huge amounts of energy to a minimal amount of contact between surfer and surf board, a breakdown of synergy manifesting in the consumption of copious amounts of sea water and an inability to put on one's socks the following day.

I think the out of focus flag says it all.

  

Issues Raised by the Solitaire Stall

On a recent visit to Covent Garden I was drawn towards a stall selling solitaire sets. Like a magpie, I was attracted by the garish coloured balls - I am easily pleased - and the gleaming wood of the sets. The first question to occur to me was why was I not the only one at the stall? Surely, to be true to its purpose, there should never be a queue.

The second question to occur to me was that if someone jumped the queue, should the person overtaken be removed?

The third question to occur to me was that if so many people felt the need for solitaire sets, why didn't they all get together socially and then they wouldn't need to play solitaire? I think there may be a niche market for solitaire sets for two - or am I alone in this?

Shall I compare thee to.....?

This year, Shakespeare's birthday found me queuing at my local butcher's, bargain packs in hand. For the record, chicken fillets and pork rib chops. These were beautifully juxtaposed with the back of the woman in front of me in the queue. Across this broad canvas, a selection of illustrations were randomly scattered. It was the poem which caught my eye, something about being on an ocean wave. I was sad that I could only read the first four lines, for the back of her dress did not drop far enough for me to read any further. I imagined that even in Kettering it would be poor form to pull the material back a bit to get a better view. Thus I was left in a state of poetic bereftness, never to know the rhyme promised but not delivered, cut off mid-stanza as I stood transfixed in this emporium, this temple of flesh, of which only some was for sale.

Was this butcher poetry or poetry butchery? I feel a sleepless night approaching.

New Drug Menace

News reaches me today of a new and terrifying drug whose use has started to spread rapidly. It has been synthesised by a secret government laboratory - don't ask me how I know! - to interfere with the minds of workers in the NHS and Social Services. The drug is so powerful that workers have to be prepared for exposure to it by attending special meetings, often in secluded places away from prying eyes. At these meetings, they are forced to engage in mind-numbing exercises, reciting lists of policies and government acronyms and legislation. The idea is to help build up a level of tolerance to the soporific effects of the drug prior to its administration by highly trained dealers. At a recent meeting, workers were seen battling to stay awake. There is also a paradoxical effect, as felt by some workers who had bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

Unfortunately, when you are actually exposed to the drug, the effects are very unpleasant. You can experience fear of what will happen if you cannot answer questions, often accompanied by feelings of paranoia that they are trying to catch you out. The situation is made worse by the circulation of fake drugs - you only find out later you were exposed to a dummy drug to test and prepare you for the real thing. And the name of this drug? CQC - carboxy-quasi-choline. You have been warned.

Unsung Hero of the Easter Bunny

An eventful Easter Saturday. I had been charged with looking after my daughters' rabbit [Smokey] and it did not take long for my highly trained eye to notice that she was not well - in some distress, unable to stand, not too dissimilar from me in the old days after a night out with the substance misuse team. Some quick phone calls, a visit to the vet - remembering to take Smokey the second time [only joking!] - and a depot injection, then all was sorted. Another chapter of unsung heroism, and this time Easter was also salvaged. Nice that my daughters will come home to a healthier rabbit.

Unsung Hero of Nature Photography

I had an interesting encounter with two swans earlier in the week. Not many people can say that. It was at a pond designated as a haven for wildlife, close to East Beach at Selsey - if you wish to visit the site to attempt a re-enactment.



I had bought a ham and cheese roll, an iced bun with a cherry on the top, and a can of Mackeson original stout - I did not realise they still made this, I remember my grandfather drinking it. A perfect picnic - to sit on the beach just watching the sea. I imagine spending my retirement staring out to sea, thinking of horizons to come and of horizons long gone. What fascinating reading will be my retirement blog, PsychoDel's Dun Psyching. Sounds vaguely oriental.

I passed the swans and thought they would make a good profile picture for a social networking website but we had a breakdown in communication - they thought I was being sociable by offering to share my sandwich and I thought they were being unsociable by not adopting the correct pose. I won't even mention the webbbed feet. They hissed menacingly when I bravely retrieved my sandiwch from the picnic table where I had left it to fiddle ineffectually with my camera. I understand in a theoretical way that an angry swan could break someone's leg - I hear that the Selsey swan massive will break your legs if you just look at them in the wrong way, let alone attempt to get a picture - and I did not want to enhance this understanding with experiential knowledge.

I had my picnic, notwithstanding that my sandwich possibly had fleeting beak contact with one of the swans, and then returned to take a photograph unencumbered with my comestibles. This is the bravery and tenacity of an unsung hero, and reminded me of an incident on Lundy when I scrambled over rocks to get a good angled shot of the sea through a rocky aperture - my daughters were watching this little venture when I suddenly disappeared from view, just as my eldest was trying to take a photograph of me taking a photograph of the sea. I returned to the girls with a very muddy backside and a bleeding elbow - and the photograph of the sea through a rocky aperture! Like I said - tenacity. And idiocy.

"Thank you for visiting today"

This was a sign I noted on leaving a retail park. In a sense, we are all just visiting today.

More Misadventures in DIY - on top of the world.

This is a late update of the little adventure I had when trying to replace the felt roofing on our modest summer house in the late days of last summer. It went reasonably well but far from perfect - I did not fix one edge because it began to rain as well as getting dark, and subsequent strong winds caused a bit of a tear. I am scared to look at the consequences - I found the work absolutely tiring and stressful, I am just not made for this kind of work. I imagine myself as more of a thinker than a doer - that explains a lot! I will try to upload a picture of this memorable moment.

Dinosaurs

Dinosaurs are in the news again today. They certainly have media longevity. I learnt at school that they disappeared 65 million years ago. My school days are long past, but it is still reported as 65 million years ago - a perspective on the passing of time and on the transience of an individual life.