return from athens (northern branch)

I'm back from Edinburgh now, after a great few days. It was the final weekend of most of the festivals, and I managed to see several plays and a film. Given the huge number of productions on offer, I was very lucky that all of them were good, and three were highly imaginative in completely different ways. It's given me a lot to think about, so I'll post about them another time when I've reached some conclusions.

I also got to see my Mum and Dad, which was great, and, as always when I visit, I ate very well. Excellent all round.

At long last

OK, it was several weeks ago in real time, but in blog terms it was only the post before last when I wrote about scanning the skin a snake had shed. A couple of people commented that they'd like to see it. Well, here it is. (Sorry about the delay.)

back to the future

I'm not there yet, but at long last it feels like the end of the tunnel is approaching and that I'm returning to normal. A lot has happened in the last few months, and I think it all got a bit too much, so I retreated back to the very basics - home and work.

I've felt like a fraud recently, because I haven't blogged, I've hardly visited the allotment, I haven't been to see the bees, I've taken very few photographs, and I've contributed little or nothing to the organisations I help. In short, I've generally done little of what's fun.

But things are starting to change. I took a few photographs this afternoon, I've come up with an idea for a new design for my personal website, I feel like blogging again and I'm off to Edinburgh in a few days' time.

snakes on a desk

Yesterday, someone brought two snake skins to work - not made into anything, just complete, empty skins that had been shed. One was about a foot long, and even had the eye coverings that snakes develop just before they shed their skins (and apparently, because they can't see, that's when they're most dangerous).

The other skin was even more impressive. It was from a boa constrictor, about four feet long, and felt like tissue paper. The pattern varied from small patches on top to much larger ones underneath. I scanned the skin on an A3 scanner, and although I don't know how I'm going to use it yet, I'm sure it has potential for powerful images.

Many years ago, I saw a snake in the process of shedding its skin at Chester Zoo, but handling a complete skin was even better.

marching as to war

Soldiers from the Stafford regiment marched through Hanley at lunchtime today. Someone in a fancy hat, perhaps the mayor or similar, stood on a raised wooden platform, with a reasonable crowd around who applauded as the 200-odd young lads went past, drums beating.

A Warrior armoured vehicle was parked nearby, and young boys were welcoming the opportunity to climb inside. Recruitment officers were working, as they frequently do in Hanley, one of the areas with low wages which tend to be major suppliers of troops.

I found myself getting confused between anger and sorrow at the whole spectacle. Parading banners is a traditional activity going back hundreds of years, but in these days when the regiment has recently returned from Iraq, there is far more to it.

Young people are lured into a dangerous part of the world with the prospect of 'better' wages or career, and die in a war which we started, supported by an incompetent government and opposition and led by a Prime Minister who at best misled Parliament with false information largely copied from an essay on the Internet and at worst actively and knowingly lied to the country.

There was no public inquiry into the case for invasion, yet young people continue to enlist and their families and neighbours stand applauding them in the street. We will never truly regenerate this city while people feel that the army is their best option, and we will continue to be complicit in war while people keep joining up and accepting orders.

entropy, entropy, they've all got it entropy

Yesterday I saw a road sign to a 'Classic Car Show & Autojumble'. I think many of my belongings must be autojumble, because I leave them alone for a while and they turn themselves into tangled junk.

how lost is my valley

In a continually-recursive twist, the Valley of Lost Things, my other blog, is now itself lost.

I'd been getting a lot of spam comments on the blog, then yesterday I was informed that my webhost was temporarily locking my web space because it had received many complaints about spam coming from my site. I know very little about the mechanics of spam, but it seems likely that someone had hijacked a vulnerable script.

I could, I suppose, have sorted through the many files in case I found something that shouldn't have been there, but I'm not sure I would have recognised anything suspicious. Since I haven't posted on that site since before Christmas, it just seemed easier to get rid of the lot.

It feels slightly sad, but it wasn't even my first blog, so I'm sure I'll get over it soon.

the green, green weeds of home

I knew when we took over our new allotment that we would have to work hard to tame it, but I had no idea just how virulently those weeds would grow. I cut back some ground elder a few weeks ago, but yesterday, when I cut back the new growth, some of it was nearly three feet long. If elder were suddenly discovered to be edible, it would be hailed as a miracle crop.

Still, we've harvested most of the nettles, which have been added to the compost heap, and the site is now looking vaguely like it did when we adopted it. Our efforts have not just been to maintain the status quo, however. There is now a good, fertile bed with strawberry plants in it and room for more crops; we've reduced the elder to a about half of its previous area; there are large areas under carpet to suppress weeds ready for digging over in the autumn, and we've generally dug or tidied up and removed a lot of general 'stuff' - mainly brick, tile, wood and glass.

A friend from work has helped tremendously, working away in a corner of the plot, revealing from under a pile of debris a brick oven with two mash pans set in the top. This, we presume, was used to prepare food for pigs which were kept on the site at one time. (The plot has only ever been used for livestock, apparently, and never cultivated, which is why there is still so much rubble under the surface.)

We even have an overall plan that's relatively stable, probably because we've learned not to specify many details, which only change, usually several times. We won't be growing much this year (for different reasons, we've been in this position for what seems like several years), but we're managing to concentrate on small areas. The trick is to remain focused on immediate tasks so that we're not over-faced by the sheer scale of the work ahead.

digital art

Yesterday I went to the Harris Museum in Preston, to see the Digital Aesthetic 2 exhibition. It was very good, though the official website doesn't do the exhibition justice.

The most interesting part consisted of three huge (6 metre high) prints of three cities designed by eboy: London, Berlin and New York. Because they're digital, they can be reproduced at any size, but the sheer scale gives the work an enormous power that's missing from smaller versions.

choo-choo!

I'm very lucky with my job. Today I realised almost every boy's fantasy (no, not that one, the other one): I rode in the driver's cab of a railway engine. We were doing some timelapse photography, and the kind people at the Churnet Valley Railway drove a diesel locomotive specially for us all the way from Cheddleton, past Frogall, to the end of the line and back.

Perhaps the experience was wasted on me, because although I enjoyed it, it didn't mean nearly as much to me as it did my colleague, who was thrilled to be allowed to blow the whistle a couple of times.

It was very pleasant, though, travelling through lush greenery in the soft rain. We disturbed a lot of pheasants, who seemed to like perching on the track, as well as a barn owl and a fox.

waylaid

On Saturday, we went to see 'Waylaid' performed by IOU Theatre in Manchester, part of the FutureSonic festival. It was performed in an inflatable dome in Platt Fields Park, and each member of the audience was given a pair of wireless headphones. (For hygiene, we each had to wear a strip of cloth over our heads so that it rested between our ears and the headphones, which looked very odd.)

The whole production was odd, in fact. There was very little dialogue, and little was amenable to literal interpretation. The setting was a snowy waste with a crashed car half-buried in the ice, and the play seemed to take place in an unconscious woman's head. Some of it was hauntingly beautiful, especially the singing and the violin, but parts, mainly the changes between sections and some of the mechanical contraptions were clunking and intrusive.

On the whole, though, it was worth going. We did have plans to go to more in the festival, which had an interesting and varied programme, but never quite made it.

back again

You can cease your fretting - I'm still around, even though I haven't been blogging much. I just haven't felt like it recently, though occasionally I've been tempted to write about some of the more ludicrous aspects of preparing for today's visit to our museum by Princess Anne. That's probably a treasonable offence, though, so I restrained myself.

If you're interested, you can read my post about the event on the blog for museum staff in the West Midlands. It was through that blog that I discovered Museum 2.0, a fascinating exploration of the implications and potential of Web 2.0 for museums. (Well, I think it's fascinating, even if you don't.)

king ralph

It's been quite a while since I last posted - a combination of being busy with stuff that isn't interesting to write about and a general lack of inclination.

Some strange things happened last weekend, however. I was best man at a friend's wedding, which gave me a lot to think about, and I may post about that, but I was in a distant frame of mind as I was driving home along the M6 on the Sunday, which may partly explain why, for a short while, I seriously believed there had been a disaster involving most of the royal family.

I don't spend much of my time thinking about Liz and her relatives (though I'm vaguely aware of the visit by Anne to our fair city in a few weeks' time), so when a convoy of six police vans and cars suddenly sped past on the opposite carriageway with their lights flashing, I assumed that there must have been a major crash and continued on my way.

Shortly afterwards, however, my car radio was interrupted, as it's set to do, by a traffic bulletin from another station. The little display on the radio read only "traffic info", so I couldn't tell which station was responsible.

Instead of an announcer's voice, though, they started to play the national anthem. Had a member of the royal family died, I wondered. I wasn't aware that any of them were ill.

Then the anthem's second verse started. That's rarely played these days. It must be something serious. Perhaps more than one had died, then. Were the police vehicles rushing to the scene of a terrorist attack? The verse rolled on. Had the royals foolishly all gathered in one place in a rare moment of mass vulnerability?

Eventually, when the music ended, a voice bizarrely started spouting some urban street poetry. Then the 'traffic bulletin' ended and the radio returned to whatever I had been listening to. I'm certainly not disappointed that nothing serious had happened, but it was an odd few minutes followed by a definitely unsettling feeling of anticlimax.

two firsts in one day

I'd been wondering what it would be like, and now I know. I had my very first bee stings today, and they weren't as bad as I'd expected, thanks to quick reactions by Nick at the beekeeping society. Both stings were through latex gloves and the barbs were removed quickly so little venom entered my system. Shortly afterwards, it was as if it had never happened, and no sign of an extreme allergic reaction, which was a relief.

The other first today was sighting a greenfinch at one of our bird-feeders at the allotment, confirmed by a quick check on the Internet when we returned home. I'm not much of a twitcher, but I enjoy watching the various small birds that fly nervously back and forth to grab a morsel of grain.

whole lotta love

For a long time, I didn't like using my personal music player. The main reason was because the bud earphones hurt my ears, but I also resented the way the music invaded my head. It was right in there, intrusive, relentless and demanding.

Now, however, I have a pair of headphones that hook round behind my ears, and although they're uncomfortable after a while, they're much better than the others. Being able to listen for longer means that I've now found that I like the direct contact I have with the music. It's just the two of us, and although I can still hear external noises, they're distant and can't intervene.

To my surprise, it was the music of Led Zeppelin that finally clinched my new appreciation of this way of listening - albums II and IV. I'd never really listened to them properly before, and dismissed them unfairly.

Now, I've borrowed the boxed set of Zeppelin albums, and I'm working my way through them. I've not discovered anything quite as good as II or IV yet, but I'm enjoying it nevertheless.

the spring collection

As the clocks change, I produce my spring wardrobe, the result of a rare shopping trip to Hanley on Sunday, with Lisa in tow to provide essential advice and guidance. With a second visit to the apiary on Saturday and our second kung fu class on Monday, it feels like we're emerging from the winter. This is the real start of the year.

another first

Today's first - my first kung fu/kick boxing class. I was surprised just how much I enjoyed it. I'm glad they're treating us gently to start with, though.

The instructor came up to Lisa and me during the class and told us he has people in other classes who are in their 60s. It didn't occur to me until afterwards, but I assume he was trying to reassure us because we're the oldest people (by a long way) in the beginners section. It's just not something that either of us think about.

'bee' bop a hula

This morning was the first of what I hope will be many visits this year to the bee hives of the North Staffordshire Bee Keepers Association. It's too cold at this time of year to keep the hives open for long, so we couldn't handle the bees ourselves, but we were made very welcome and people took the time to explain what was going on.

There are dramatic changes going on, trying to resuscitate weak colonies or merge them with stronger ones, and I liked the trick of using newspaper to separate two colonies within the same hive until they get accustomed to each others' scents.

I'm looking forward to going back next week to see the effect of today's changes.

RSSenic and old lace

I spent a while this morning trying to work out how to combine the various RSS feeds from all of the Mind Bloggling blogs into a single feed that people can subscribe to so that they are automatically notified whenever a new item is posted.

Once the feed was working, I tested it in the Mind Bloggling offices using Internet Explorer 7. It was the first time I'd used IE7, and discovered that it automatically listed the tags used in posts and added up the number of times each one occurred. I assume that this only applies to items currently in the feed, rather than a cumulative total in all posts, but it's still a way of encouraging people to read posts.

I've tended not to use tags on my posts in recent weeks, but because of this discovery, I'm going to start doing it again.

(By the way, the combined RSS feed will be available from the Mind Bloggling website in a short while. In the meantime, you could subscribe to it through this link if you want. I'll post about this again when the link moves to the Mind Bloggling site so that you can update your subscription.)

tasty little flowers

We did little to look after our purple-sprouting broccoli apart from water during the heat of last summer - no thinning out, no repair of the netting to keep the pigeons off. In fact, it seems ages since we planted it (twelve months ago), and I've hardly looked at it since the autumn. It just sat there doing nothing.

But suddenly it has tiny dark florets, and tonight we ate some - a real surprise treat. It was so sweet and tasty. Mmmm!

hard graft

Today was the first of a few days off work. I spent several hours down at our new allotment this morning, and had a great time.

I haven't felt comfortable with writing about it until now because technically it still isn't ours yet. We've now discussed terms with the Council representative, and have been offered a good deal because it's in a poor state. It's large (two double plots), so it will take a long time (years) to get it all into a reasonable condition, but we'd prefer that to a small plot in good condition.

So today I cut back brambles, cleared an area for our greenhouse, removed some old wood and brought in some flagstones rescued from another plot that's being completely cleared.

I like having a big project to work at. (Just as well!)

party on, dudes

Tony recently asked why, if many of its staff are good, Stoke-on-Trent City Council is so bad. As one of the people employed by that organisation, I feel that question deserves an answer, but it will be too long to fit in a comment on his post.

By way of introduction, I consider that my immediate colleagues and I provide a good service that is welcomed by the residents we work with. Our posts are funded by central government, so we don't cost the Council tax payers of this city a penny.

Today, Steve Robinson, appointed as Chief Executive and Council Manager last November, addressed two huge groups of employees to tell us his plan for the council over the next three to five years. He has already met with all of the managers, and now, over the course of several weeks, he's meeting the rest of the 12,000 staff.

It's impossible to disagree with much of what he said. The Council has to improve, and it's up to every single one of us to provide an excellent service for residents. Steve talked at great length about the Council's values and the aim of achieving excellence. Indeed, he said the word "excellent" so many times it felt like a scene from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Perhaps he'll suggest that we change the organisation's name to Wyld Stallyns-on-Trent City Council.

It's not hard to mock. One of his early e-mails to all staff talked of "one city, one council, one voice", which is highly reminiscent of Adolf Hitler's "one folk, one reich, one fuhrer". Today's event had a huge red curtain across the front of the stage and posters in the Council's colour scheme of red and black. It was easy to imagine long banners down the walls with huge swastikas on them.

Steve stood at a lectern in front of the curtain and orated like a leader at his party conference, complete with the usual tricks of rhetoric: the rule of three, asking questions to gain attention then answering them, and establishing a bond with the audience against a common foe (the few who aren't willing to change).

At the end, he asked everyone to stand up. He then asked, in three separate but similar ways, for anyone who didn't share his vision to sit down. Not surprisingly, no-one did. That kind of manipulation, the simplistic "you're either for us or against us" choice, excluding all other options and viewpoints, and peer pressure must have been what led to Hitler's rallies. (Sitting at the back, I chose not to stand in the first place.)

I found this working the crowd offensive, but I was interested in what he omitted to say. It's all very well to make glib, politician's statements about the need to improve, then try to sweep people along with you. He didn't, however, address how his laudable aims could fit with the long-term policy of not replacing staff who leave, capped off with the recent invitation of applications for voluntary redundancy. Staff are suffering from low morale and feel bruised from repeated re-organisation. In response to a question about how we had seen all this before, all Steve could say was, "Yes, but this time it's different."

I don't want Steve's job. He has a lot to do to achieve his aims, and it's easy to sit at the back and criticise. I like this city and the people who live here. I want to carry on providing a good service, and I want this Council to improve, but it's hard to respect a leader who thinks he can trick us into doing what he wants.

red-faced

Lisa bought some pampering treats yesterday. I tried her facial cleansing mousse, but stupidly didn't wash it off until later. That delay led to the skin on my face today being red, dry and cracked. It wasn't as bad as the Joker's fiendish plan in the Batman movie, but still far from the intended result. I won't make that mistake again.

north of the border (not mexico way)

Lots to catch up on - I've been in Edinburgh for a long weekend. I travelled up by train, so on Friday afternoon, I went over the stretch of track that a only few hours later was the scene of a derailment. Makes you think, dunnit?

I managed to cram a lot into the two complete days - a couple of films (Pan's Labyrinth and Night at the Museum), a play (Mrs Warren's Profession by George Bernard Shaw), the Off the Wall exhibition at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art and a visit to the open day of the Eric Liddell centre.

And all topped off with lovely food and drink, too. Thanks for the fantastic weekend, Mum!

more splendid

While writing yesterday's post about how good Saturday was, I forgot to mention two further reasons. Firstly, I got my haircut by a bloke who was just so happy with life that it was a pleasure to be in his presence. Secondly, I received a big cheque from the Inland Revenue because I paid too much tax a couple of years ago when I gave up my job. Wheeee!

splendid saturday

Yesterday was particularly good. No doubt to an outsider it would have seemed uneventful, but I really enjoyed it.

First up, we discovered Au Revoir Simone. You can hear four of their tracks on MySpace. My favourite is Stay Golden, which is the one which plays by default when you load the page. It's deceptively simple, but discrepancies between the vocals and the backing make interesting complications. Their new album, the Bird of Music, will be released next month. Presumably the similarities between the cover photograph and the famous poster of the tennis player with no underwear are deliberate.

Next, we had a visit from a representative of the Renewal Area which we live in, to confirm that we can have our loft insulation increased to 10" thick at a cost of only £50, and cavity wall insulation for a further £50. The full cost of those two measures would be at least £600. I've never been eligible for any assistance like this before, so it's great news.

Finally, I cooked gammon steak and chips for tea, with peas, fried egg and pineapple, and, though I say so myself, it was very good. Yes, I know it's not a healthy meal, but, once in a while, as a treat, I reckon it's OK.

new technology in the east midlands

If you live in Derby, Nottingham or Leicester, you can join a game being played this month. It's called 'Love City', and after registering on the website, you play by sending text messages to strangers in the other two cities. You can read an explanation of how it works or watch a short demo film. (There's also a blog about the game's development, but it's a bit sparse.)

The game was created by Active Ingredient, which seems to be part of a thriving new media sector in the East Midlands. I knew about some of the exciting things going on in Bristol (such as Connecting Bristol and Mobile Bristol), but I'd no idea so much was going on closer to home.

Does anyone know of exciting new technology developments in the West Midlands or even North Staffordshire?

'putting people first' - hah!

I've just come from a public meeting about our allotments, and this isn't a good time to be writing a blogpost because I'm still annoyed, but because I'm annoyed, I'm going to anyway.

To cut a long story short, we've been out-manoeuvred. No-one's said as much, but looking only two moves ahead, I can see it coming, and we're on our own. Ours is now the only occupied plot in an area that the city council wants to turn into a communal garden. We're outside the secure area because the gate was relocated a few months ago, and the plots in front of us have been cleared. If we stay, ours will become an island.

I won't say what I think of the individuals concerned, and I'm not referring merely to the council officers or indeed the councillors. We just want to be left alone to tend our plot. We haven't been there long, but we're attached to it. We've thought long and hard about how we want to develop it, and put in many hours improving the soil and cutting back weeds and brambles (that's blackberries to some of you).

I missed the event during the meeting, but Lisa heard someone quietly say (though he was quickly hushed) that they just won't renew the lease. When we came home, we checked the tenancy agreement, and discovered that either party has the right to terminate the lease giving twelve months notice. There's a clause that prevents people being forced out during the middle of summer when crops are ripe, so basically, the council has until the 6th of April to give us notice, or wait until the end of September. We therefore have to decide whether or not to pay the rent that will fall due on 1st April.

As far as I can tell, there are only one or two empty plots within the area that the Council proposes to retain. If we decide to move plot, therefore, there isn't much choice, which is bizarre considering the number of currently vacant plots. But that's because the council proposes to get rid of them all. How to improve the occupancy rate in one simple step! But there's no demand for them because they're in a bad state and the water supply is poor.

Who has asked for this communal garden, though, and who's going to maintain it?

There's no concluding point to this post. I'm not even ready to outline the options facing us.

P.S. And our allotment was broken into last night, along with three or four others. No loss other than the padlock and chain, but the door is broken, as is our hedge. Grump, grump.

in the dead of night

I woke up at 3.45 this morning and was unable to go back to sleep, so I got up and here I am.

I used to have strange sleep patterns, but they've been normal for a long time now. The odd thing is, I still can't get out of the feeling that I've somehow gained a few extra free hours, even though I know perfectly well from past experience that I will need to catch up soon enough.

It's the tranquility, I think. It feels like time is standing still.

charred chard

Have you ever played homophones? It's a very simple game. You take it in turns to suggest a pair of words that sound the same but are spelled differently. An obvious pair would be 'two' and 'too'. Depending on how lenient or strict you are, you might also allow 'to'.

I played for the first time recently, and was surprised just how many there are. A certain person offered 'pour' and 'pore' which are perfectly acceptable, but wanted to add 'poor' as a further homophone, which I wouldn't allow. Perhaps I was being too harsh, but she then went on to suggest that 'paw' is yet another, which is definitely unacceptable.

The only problem was, we played the game just before going to bed. I lay awake for ages, unable to stop trying to think of more. Each time I found one I had to switch the light on so I could write it down because I knew I wouldn't remember it in the morning.

What games do you play?

Donald McGougan

I read recently that Donald McGougan, my teacher from Year 5 in Primary School, will retire later this year. My class, back in 1970, was his first teaching post, and he was an excellent teacher. He encouraged and inspired us, and greatly influenced the course of my life. I can still vividly remember things he taught us, and from him I developed an interest in the full range of arts and sciences.

I'll be writing to him to send him my best wishes for his retirement, and to let him know how much he helped me. Thank you, Donald.

Farewell, Sarah

I've been struggling with this post for a week now, and I'm still not convinced I've got it right, but it felt wrong to abandon it altogether.

Eight days ago, I went to Sarah's funeral. She was 22, and it was very sad, but there were some humorous moments which I think she would have appreciated. She had Goth tendencies, so her coffin had silver chains and symbols on it, and some flowers were in the shape of a large, black boot with buckles up the side. Driving alone in my car, I managed to become separated from the cortege, and couldn't find my way from Cheadle to Cheddleton, so I finally arrived at the church just as the last piece of music was playing.

There is a lot I could write about the whole event, but I've chosen not to. Instead, I'm going to finish with what I've concluded over the last few weeks: what sets us apart from animals, in my opinion, is the choice of whether or not to fulfill our potential to make a difference.

on the cut

Today, in connection with work, I met and listened to two people talk about living on canal narrow boats. It was very interesting, and they were at pains to point out that the 'liveaboard' lifestyle is not as idyllic as portrayed by the ITV Waterworld programme.

Many people buy boats to live on, mistakenly assuming that it will be easy and restful. Those who rescind the lifestyle are described as going "back to brick", a delightful phrase.

Jupiter and beyond the infinite

Yesterday's "today, for the first time" was renewing my car tax online. It was remarkably straightforward. All you need is the 16-digit number on your reminder notice.

The implications, though, are not so good. It means that your MoT certificate, if you have one, and your insurance details are on the same computer or at least available to that system. You may already know this, but it was news to me.

So when the Public Service Announcement on television tells you that you can't avoid the black monolith from '2001 A Space Oddity', it's really referring to HAL 9000, and we know what happened to it. This is more than just turning up on a database of overdue payments.

splaaat!

Today, for the first time, I splashed paint around on large sheets of paper, using a large brush. They were the first pages of my new spiral-bound book, and it was a surprisingly exhilirating experience.

I've been quite timid and apprehensive in the past about colour and large paper, so I decided it was high time I get on with breaking through that barrier and just do it.

I've no idea what I'll use the sheets for. Two of them form a double page spread, though I applied the paint in different ways so they don't match. I also painted some smaller sheets that I'll stick into the book at some stage. Some, I suspect, will be backgrounds for other things, but some might be sufficient in themselves.

gorgeous goosegogs galore

Last autumn I ordered various plants for our allotment. The blueberries arrived soon afterwards, but the rest was scheduled for delivery in January. Last week, a package duly arrived, so yesterday I took it down to our plot to plant in a temporary place until I've time to prepare the ground properly.

In addition to the raspberry canes I expected, there was a gooseberry bush which I'd completely forgotten, so that was a pleasant surprise, but what is it with gooseberries and sex, either in the form of babies or being an unwelcome third person?

grumpy old man, part 67

We went to a certain carpet store recently to take advantage of some big price reductions in the sale. On the price calculated in the store on measurements I'd taken, we ordered some carpet, paying a deposit while we were there.

As arranged, someone came to measure and provide an accurate price. My measurements were out slightly, which after all is why they send someone to do the real measuring, but there was also some tale about the shape of the room and the direction of the weave which meant it had to be laid in a certain way which meant more material would be used. The cost of the fitting also increased, but I was never clear quite why. All in all, the final price turned out to be nearly fifty per cent over the price indicated in the store.

We went back to the store to cancel the order and ask for a refund of the deposit, at least partly because we felt we'd been taken for a ride. There was never any difficulty about the cancellation or refund, but when it was clear that we were serious, the salesman suggested that we give him an hour or so, and he would see what he could do to reduce the price to near what the original estimate had been.

In some countries, haggling is a part of everyday life, but I don't feel comfortable playing a game where not only are there no official rules but it's not clear that you're even playing one until you question something.

Yes, people haggle about house and car prices, but they are often second-hand and not in formal showrooms. I don't want to compete with salespeople and wonder afterwards whether I've been ripped off.

brian's procedurals

My creative hero, Brian Eno (see posts here and here), is at work again. He's writing some complex procedural music to match the complexities of a long-awaited new computer game called Spore which simulates the complete history and future of life, no less. I haven't bought a computer game for a long time, but if this one lives up to the hype then I'll be buying Spore.

What games, computer or otherwise, do you like playing?

another first

I recently introduced an occasional "What I did today for the first time" section. Over the last week, during a hiatus in blogging which you probably didn't notice, I've had to do several things for the first time that I would prefer to have left undone.

So to lighten the mood a little, although it wasn't today, I'm going to resume blogging with the announcement that on Sunday, for the first time, I replaced the felt on a shed roof. It may not sound like much, but I'm far from skilled in DIY matters, so I felt (no pun intended) quite a sense of achievement when I surveyed my ragged and uneven handiwork.

who will buy my sweet red roses?

It may be a luxury, but we bought some flowers being sold off cheaply yesterday at the supermarket - some yellow tulips, some yellow and pinky-orange tulips and some fluted carnations with mauve tips on the lightest pink stalks.

They really cheer the place up on these dark, damp days. As a result, we're planning to grow flowers on part of our allotment this year.

the way to start each day

Having said recently that I would resume writing morning pages, as recommended by Julia Cameron in The Artist's Way, it's about time I provided a brief progress report.

I've been writing for just short of a fortnight now, three pages every day, missing only one so far. It means getting up half an hour earlier, and it can be a struggle sometimes, especially when I'm starting at work early. I do feel better for it, though. It feels like my head is cleansed of the day-to-day concerns that clog things up, leaving me free to concentrate on what I want to.

The drawback, however, seems to be that I feel less inclined to write in this blog, and not at all in my other blog. Perhaps I only have a limited number of words each day. I'll have to keep an eye on this.

leaves 'n' stuff

Here's another photo I took in the Botanic Gardens in Birmingham in December, when they opened for a few evenings.

hi ho, hi ho

Today was the first day back at work after the Festive season. Although the break was a seductive reminder of what life was like so very recently when I wasn't a slave to the daily 9 to 5, I found for perhaps the first time in my life that I didn't mind the resumption of my place at the grindstone.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed my time off immensely. It's just that my current job feels about as far as it's possible to get from being crushed by the wheels of industry. Except for the possible exception of someone who is paid to sit in the shade on a sandy beach and drink refreshing liquids. And I've not spotted an opening in that field recently, not even one at the bottom of the hierarchy.

it's that time of year

Been contemplating. Been making changes, just small ones, but the start of many, all part of de-cluttering and re-focusing. It's that time of year.