Beer and Fags

 It's Friday evening. How things change. Where once I would have been having a G&T or a beer, I am now waiting for adult swim time and a gentle extra half-mile. It's also a fast day so, nothing to eat until mid-afternoon tomorrow. These aspects of the new life are ... odd, and even after months, I have to remind myself what I am doing and or what I am going to do, and the reasoning behind it.

Here's an odd thing. I smoked a little for a lot of years, but generally more on the weekend, and particularly on a Friday when I let my hair down (so that includes a few doobies ... he says airily as if it was a passing foible, ahem). There is in my opinion a physiological hangover for all those years. Without exception, Saturday mornings under the new regime of no booze and no fags, involves coughing as if the new regime isn't in place. My body has habituated to coughing on Saturday mornings because it did for so many years. Unconscious muscle memory, and I guess because I was always a light smoker with a propensity for a weekend binge the effect is more noticeable because of the one-off peak.

Video Blogging ... the upgrade.

Me wittering on about this and that ... just like I do here but on video. It explains some of why I haven't written so much. I do need to do a full catch up here, in part to clear my head and in part because I owe it to my reader.

 

 

It's curtains for us all.

One has to wonder in this day and age, how hard can it be to find some plain curtains, pale-cream, biscuit, off-white or linen-looking, Tape top or pencil pleat, 1.9mtr drop to fit a 2.2mtr track? Machine washable, blackout, and or thermal (or both), ready lined if needs be. I mean, for fucks fucking sake, there are enough curtain retailers online, you would think they would spend some time rationalising their web offerings, so they at least stuck to the parameters requested. I'm going to have to be sexist here and suggest their websites are designed by committees of women with too much time on their hands and an inability to make a decision (Don't hate me, and if you do ... whateveaaaaaar).

And as for fucking Wayfair they get their very own FOR FUCKS FUCKING SAKE!!! Can someone, anyone come back to me with a definition of the word plain, because unless I've slipped across a dimension of reality or two, the word plain clearly means something else here.

Anyway. If anyone with the patience of a saint can spare the time to prove that I'm a misogynistic, sexist arsehole who can't see the wood for his impatient trees, feel free to find some curtain links, specified to the top paragraph, and reply in the comments below.

PS: Dunelm, close but no cigar. Who the fuck in this day and age wants to piss about taking their curtains to a dry cleaner ... or sending their butler to do it.

PPS: The best invention ever are in fact window blinds ... Otherwise, it would have been curtains for everyone. baboom chaa!

I'm here all week.

Storm Surge Eunice

I haven't about for a while... far too busy, however, I have been about elsewhere. 

Here is a recent video I shot prior to Storm Eunice making landfall.

I will spend some time unifying the various streams of both media and consciousness here. But in the meantime, look at the power of low-pressure air above water in the Bristol Channel.

https://www.metoffice.gov.uk/weather/learn-about/weather/types-of-weather/storms/storm-surge

A short but steep walk.

 A little video I put together today 9^th January 2022, from a walk I took on Sunday the 2^nd of January 2022. I had a bit of a think about some of the things I said on the ascent. I probably hadn’t walked up that particular hill for over a year given the injury I’d had in 2021.

The tree that had a fallen limb is a Beech and was probably once just a part of a hedge on top of a drystone wall, clearly, the hedge was abandoned in some far distant time, and now the row of trees straddles the remains of the wall. It’s a mixture of bark-covered root structures and dry-stone walling, a symbiosis of two manmade artefacts writing their own rules in the absence of man’s attendance.

I said at the end “I came I saw I reacquainted.” And that was the case, walking up that hill was symbolic to me and to me alone. I needed it to underline the fact that after a fairly horrible 2021, that I had come back to Somerset, fitter and stronger than I have been for over a year, and could enjoy the breathtaking view from the Trig-Point beneath Shervage Wood, and share some old lore, and tree knowledge.