Monthly Archives: July 2020

Wednesday Again

Today I got up late, as I don’t see any point in having a day off and flinging myself out of bed at dawn, or any time approximating to dawn. The benefit of having two days off together (as I did this week due to a rearrangement of our days in the shop) is that you can work into the early hours of the morning, pretending to be creative. I say ‘pretending’ because I’m not sure I do my best work when I’m half asleep.

I read for the first hour of waking, then went downstairs.

I had written four haibun last night and, after replying to comments on the blog and reading a few other blogs I got down to work.

All four needed considerable tightening up, and that’s what they got.

Then, at 12.00 I decided to have lunch, as I hadn’t actually had breakfast. Sourdough toast, tinned plum tomatoes, fried mushrooms and scrambled eggs, in case a future reader is interested. It’s not exciting or healthy, but it’s what we had in the fridge. A bit like my writing, which is what happens to be kicking around in my head when I sit at the keyboard.

That turned into a short spell of watching TV and a rather longer one of napping. I don’t know why I needed a nap, perhaps because I could.That led on to doing the washing up and doing a bit more writing. After that there was more TV, a discussion of shopping lists, a meal of stir-fried vegetables, the on-line shopping order and this blog post. Actually there was a previous blog post but it developed in a way I couldn’t be bothered to complete, so it is now resting in drafts.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Light and Shade

TESCO have increased the delivery charge – I am now paying them £4.50 to pick and deliver my groceries, where it used to cost £3. That’s £75 a year, though if I had to drive to the shop every week I suppose it would cost me about that in car running costs and time.

That’s it for now. The post is drawing to a natural close, midnight is approaching and I need to do my sandwiches for tomorrow.

It’s tempting to ramble on a bit to try for 500 words, but I’m going to stop now. Three hundred and eighty nine will have to do. (If I’d written 389, it would only have been 385 and I wouldn’t have been able to add this sentence and top it up to 412). I just noticed, on  adding a title to the second photo, that the word count went up. Strange…

 

What Goes On Inside Your Head?

I have always suffered from the opposite of boredom. Sit me in an empty room, and after I have admired the emptiness, the imperfection of the walls and the silence for a while, I will start to read the labels inside my clothes. After that I will explore my memories, replay the cinema in side my head and then hold a conversation with myself, or even with someone else. This is a silent conversation, of course, I come from a time when only lunatics and drunks spoke out loud to themselves. Nowadays you also have to include people with Bluetooth earpieces.

I don’t think I’m unique in this, I’m sure many people reading this will also do the same. Well, maybe the voices aren’t quite normal, but so far they haven’t made me do anything bad and as I’m typing this in my dining room rather than a secure unit it’s safe to say I am normal enough to get away with it.

When I think about it I don’t remember being bored for at least 40 years, and that was only while I was at work. I nurtured the ability to think about other things whilst doing repetitive jobs, and I was never bored again.

This is one of the reasons I don’t listen to much music. I’ve never really listened to the radio or tapes in the car (which dates me, doesn’t it?) because I’ve normally had plenty to occupy my mind (including driving!). When I was gardening I bought a cheap MP3 player and tried listening to that while I was doing things like cutting long hedges but after the first couple of days I never used it. Music distracts me from thinking, and I’m quite happy just thinking.

That’s probably why I’ve been happy in lockdown. It’s suited me, to be honest.

So, the big question of the day – what goes on inside your head? And are you prepared to admit it?

As a supplementary question – who is humming the Peter Sarstedt song as they read this?

Ghostly Head

Ghostly Head

 

Musings on Mortality and Sausages

This morning  I went to collect cash from the ATM. At 8.30 there was already a queue, with two people in front of me and two behind me by the time I finished. Despite what the shops and banks keep telling us, people still want cash.

 I was in the shop for 9.00 and, with a coffee on the desk, was answering queries from eBay users. In general, eBay users who ask questions fall into five categories. One is buyers who are reasonably intelligent and ask useful questions. These form about 10% of all enquiries. We didn’t have any of these this morning.

Some, possibly 5%, are enquiries about deliveries. We had one this morning, because the post has been erratic  during lockdown. By the miracle of the internet I was able to put the tracking number into the Irish postal system and find that it has been sorted in Dublin and is out for delivery.

Another 10% make ridiculous low offers. We had a couple of these on Saturday but none this morning.

Another 10% ask questions that they could have answered themselves if they had read the description properly. We had one of these this morning.

That, as you have no doubt already calculated, leaves 65%. These are enquiries made by people who would at one time have found employment as village idiots. Thanks to the internet they are now able to extend their reach and disturb my morning from many miles away.

The rest of the day went quite smoothly, until I returned home. The gardeners had returned to finish the clearing, and had filled the skip, including a lot of roofing felt. You can’t put roofing felt into a skip these days, along with a lot of other things, so I had to set to and remove it all. This was tricky as it was in many pieces and much of it was still attached to parts of the shed roof. However, I am glad to report that my hands worked well, my back stood up to the strain and I managed to get all the felt out.

It was a minor victory. In fact, a few years ago it wouldn’t have counted as a victory at all, because I would have expected to be able to do it. A couple of years before that I would have demolished my own shed and wouldn’t have needed help. This is a picture of me in 2012. The contrast with the haggard me of 2020 is a bit of a worry.

IMG_0214

This was a rugby club ID photo – I was much more colourful in those days, with a ruddy hue and ginger beard. I’m now pale and white, which reminds me – I had a look at yesterday’s foggy photo and have just noticed the decapitated scarecrow in the foreground. No wonder people have been saying it’s eerie. I missed that until today.

I am much more wrinkly than I was in 2012

I am much more wrinkly than I was in 2012

It’s a sombre thought on the impermanence of what we regard as a normal way of life. Tomorrow I will try for a more cheerful view.

Meanwhile, I will leave you with a header picture of a poppy purple poppy. I like purple poppies. I found it whilst looking through some old photos. They seem to have died off in the garden, but the memory lives on.

As an antidote to musings on mortality we had sausages for tea and followed them up with rhubarb and apple crumble. You can’t be serious while you’re eating sausages, which don’t really lend themselves to solemnity. Crumble, though lacking some of the comic potential of sausages is a similarly cheery food and should, in my view, be prescribed as a cure for depression.

I may actually launch a movement to deliver crumbles to neighbours. Unfortunately, in these days of Type 2 diabetes and rampant anti-sugarism it may open me up to accusations of attempted mass murder…

 

 

What Can I Write About Today?

I have a  number of thoughts in the pipeline but they still need a bit of work.

However, Derrick and Tootlepedal have both fallen into my trap and asked for more details of what I turned up when I searched myself on Google. They both come up with their blogs when you Google them. I don’t, because I started the blog for the Quercus Community group and, eventually, I became Quercus.

I can now provide details without looking like a blatant self-publicist or an egomaniac.

My real name is Simon Wilson, but both names are so common that if you Google me I don’t get a look in. There are just so many notable people with my name that I’m frozen out, which is slightly annoying as I’ve had for longer than  most of them.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Trees at day’s end

Anyway, here are the links to me.

Here, here, here, here and here. And here. There were more than I thought.

There’s also a link to one of my blog posts, but though I’ve talked of haibun on the blog several times, and even published a couple, Google doesn’t seem to pick them up. The blog post has a link to a haiku that wasn’t picked up by Google.

There is also a book review  for a book of haibun and other short poems by Xenia Tran, better known on WordPress as Whippet Wisdom. It’s not much of a review but if Goggle can be bothered to note it, it would be rude not to share the link.

According to the blog, I had nine acceptances, but could only find six by using Google. I can’t look them up by name because I’ve forgotten what they were. Somewhere I have a display book with them all in, but I haven’t seen that for a while now I come to think about it.

It’s not an ego thing – I don’t feel the need to print it all out and make a book of it. I just do it because when  you get a rejection it’s easy to take the book off the shelf and remind yourself that you have been a success and will be again. Well, it’s easy to take the book off the shelf if you can remember which shelf.

One rejection, or even several in a row, only means you’re in a temporary dip.

Form, as any coach will tell you, is temporary, but class will last for ever.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

A Figure in the Fog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seven Reasons to be Cheerful

I am feeling particularly cheerful today and decided it called for another list. It won’t run to 10 points, but I’ll try to keep it going as long as possible.

One, I have a wife. She’s still with me after 30 years. I don’t know how, or why, she puts up with me.

Two, I have a sister who worries about my health and sends me face masks by post.

Three, the kids have grown up and become reasonable human beings. I actually quite like them, which wasn’t always the case when they were teenagers. You have to love them, because it’s what parents do. And you have to feed them because that’s the law. But liking them is a bonus.

Four, Number Two Son, currently still in Canada, rang Julia today to say he’d seen a Cardinal and it was the best bird he’d ever seen. Nice to know he has grown up with a proper set of values.

Five, we have enough food. This wasn’t the case a few months ago, when panic-buying was in full swing. I thought of this because I used the last of the pre-cooked rice I’d bought in case things got worse.

Six, after the Mexican style fried rice I made (which was better than it sounds) we had apple crumble using apples from the Mencap garden.

Seven, we had ice cream with the crumble, which was delicious after a hot, stuffy day.

I could get to eight, but seven seem OK, and scans better in the title, so I’m going to call it a day.

The photos are from an old camera card I rediscovered recently.

 

Not the Worst of Days

Last night I checked out all the references to me on Google. There aren’t many but I thought if I looked them up once a week and maybe listed them on the blog I may drive myself up the ratings.

At work, I did a lot of photography. The owner has been sorting out loads of coins for eBay but he doesn’t do photography. That’s my job. It’s kept me busy for a few days so I mustn’t grumble, but today I messed up slightly. When photographing runs of virtually identical objects I normally photograph a few markers or notes amongst them so I know what things are as I load them. I forgot today.

As a result I ended up struggling to sort photos of pennies with wide dates and narrow dates. Yes, collectors do differentiate between such things.

Wartime Lincoln Cents

Wartime Lincoln Cents

As a result of that and an influx of customers (with no appointments) I was late picking Julia up.

We arrived home to find my sister had sent us another selection of masks. She has selected a more masculine design this time and uprated the nose clip by replacing the bendy metal strip with an iron bar. I discovered this the hard way when I put it on and tried to bend it round my nose. It was touch and go whether the iron bar or my nose bent first. She claims it’s only a stout piece of wire, but I’m not convinced.

We had fish and chips for tea. I had some of Julia’s chips instead of having a portion myself so I’m feeling virtuous.

I haven’t done much tonight and am currently watching Love Actually. I do like a good romcom.

It hasn’t been an exciting day but I’ve had worse. And at least we didn’t have moqueca.

 

Iranian Vegetable Stew

This recipe is apparently ‘inspired’ by Persian stews. which tends to suggest it isn’t actually a traditional recipe.

You need an onion, potatoes, butternut squash, tomatoes and spinach, plus optional dried cranberries and Greek yoghurt.

The kit provides Ras-el-Hanout, tomato paste and mushroom stock.

It’s spicy and ful;l of flavour but I’m pretty sure that a jar of Ras-el-Hanout plus tomato puree and vegetable stock will do the business without the special spice kit.

We had another delivery of spice kits today as the ordering system has nowhere we can cancel. As Julia hadn’t finished registering we thought we may be in the clear but it popped through door today in the post.

Julia fired off a strongly worded protest via an email address she found, and we won’t be getting any more kits unless we order them.

Iranian Vegetable Stew

Iranian Vegetable Stew

The four kits delivered today are for Tamil Black Pepper Chicken, Jalfrezi, Red Lentil Curry and Moqueca (Brazilian fish stew). I’m OK with three of them, but not thrilled by the idea of fish stew. It’s like skydiving – never done it, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like it.

A More Positive Post

I loaded  yesterday’s post has been downloaded. It was touch and go, and I made it with less than ten minutes to spare. WordPress and my computer, appeared to become slower and more glitch-ridden as the deadline approached.

The last sixteen hours of the day were frustrating and unproductive and I’m afraid it showed in my post, and the two attempted posts which I discarded. There is a positive to be taken from that – I managed over twelve hundred words today, even if I did throw half of them away.

Julia has just read the post and commented that I appear grumpy. It’s probably a good thing she didn’t see the deleted drafts.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Cat Stamp

Whilst browsing the site I wandered into Waking up on the Wrong Side of 50. The subject for the last couple of days has been judging. Do we do it? Should we do it? Why do we do it? I do like a good

I do. And the reason I do it is because there are idiots about who need judging. Some of them actually need removing from the gene pool, but eugenics are out of fashion at the moment.

It would, I suppose be nice to live in a world where people weren’t judgemental. It would, of course, be particularly nice for idiots, who could do what they liked without fear that anyone would correct them.

Eugenics will, I’m sure, come back into fashion once doctors work out how to improve the children of rich people with expensive DNA modifications.

However, they should remember Kipling’s Arithmetic on the Frontier. when the revolution starts – ‘the odds are on the cheaper man’. Kipling might be derided for being old-fashioned and jingoistic but he’s often right in what he says, and he has a good turn of phrase.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Bear lurking in woodpile

In my visions of dystopian futures I’m not sure whether I see the downtrodden masses rising up or the robots taking over. They are both fairly dispiriting, but it’s probably most likely that we will just carry on as normal with the rich becoming richer and the poor becoming poorer.

The rich will live in air-conditioned bubbles and be attended by robot butlers while the rest of us wilt in the heat and pin our hopes on lottery wins and making it big on reality TV – bread and circuses as they say.

I have managed to make some progress today, despite being at work in a well-filled day. It’s amazing, but it’s living proof of the old saying – if you want something doing ask a busy man.

We had a man in the shop today who brought his children, It seems he used to buy coins from us 20 years ago. Having recently found his coin collection he showed it to his kids and they have become interested in coin collecting, so he came to buy them some coins. It’s good to see the passing of time summed up like this and it was good to see a father spending time with his kids. They will reap benefits in the future, both the time spent together and the time spent learning about the coins they collect. In the case of my kids it was mainly bird watching and rugby, but the principles are the same.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Sunset over Sherwood

 

The images are random shots of things that make me smile. I hope they have the same effect on you.

 

 

 

A Day That Failed to Deliver

Having made a plan for the day I awoke with energy and determination, dressed swiftly and went downstairs with high hopes.

At that point the plan failed to survive first contact with the enemy, hit the buffers and the wheels came off, as the mixed metaphors fell thick and fast, along with the cliches. The ‘enemy’ was, of course, my dear wife, who was already up to her ears in phone calls and had a list of things for me to do.

As a result I am now typing close to midnight and have only managed to tick three jobs off my list, though I have managed to do quite a few jobs that weren’t on the list.You have to wonder why I bother having Wednesdays off, as they have become just another working day for Julia during lockdown.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Red Tailed Bumble Bee Mencap Garden Wilford

This is the third attempt I have made at today’s blog post as the previous two have degenerated into a whining complaint about the unfairness of life, the unfairness of wife and the perils of working from home. When we are all back at work I bet her clients, who know no boundaries, will continue to ring in the evenings and at weekends and we (along with many other people) will be worse off in terms of relaxation and work/life balance, than we were before lockdown.

This, along with masks and governmental ineptitude, seems to be one of the big stories of the day.

I have just spent the last hour wrestling with the shopping list for tomorrow. I started it in good time but stopped to eat, fell asleep in front of the TV and woke, stiff and grumpy, to find that I had two hours to shop and blog.

There is half an hour to go, so I will add a few photos from the gardens on Monday and sign off for the day. I pursued a red tailed bumble bee around the cranesbill and lilies but these two poor shots were the only decent ones.The cranesbill drooped under it’s weight and didn’t provide enough pollen to keep it, while the lilies provided pollen, but the bee was hidden deep in the flower as it collected.

Tomorrow I hope to be more positive, more productive and a much nicer person. I suspect I am only going to managed two out of the three as a major personality change is unlikely.

Teasel - Mencap Garden Wilford Nottingham

Teasel – Mencap Garden Wilford Nottingham

 

A Head Full of Nothing

A Bentley glided past the road end today as I waited to turn out. It was painted pale blue and silver like a 1960s space rocket, and was about the size of a small aircraft carrier, but it had four wheels and a Bentley badge so I deduced it was a car. Things have come a long way from the days when they were best known for their victories at Le Mans and for racing the Blue Train.

Tim Birkin, who is mentioned as one of the Bentley Boys in the Le Mans link came from Nottingham. The Wiki entry is a bit patchy – he actually had two brothers. Archie was killed in practice for the 1927 Isle of Man TT races and the place of his death is now known as Birkin’s Bend, a fact that seems to have escaped the notice of the person who wrote the Wikipedia entry, despite there being an entry for it. There was also another brother, Thomas, who doesn’t seem to get a mention in Wiki. He was killed in a flying accident in France in 1917.

The most famous member of the family is Jane Birkin. I thought of her recently when Charlotte Gainsbourg appeared in a film I was watching. It was Independence Day: Resurgence, an example of why sequels are not always a good idea. I liked the original film, even though it wasn’t great literature. The sequel would have been greatly improved by moving the opening and closing credits closer together. Ideally, 120 minutes closer together.

Street Art Sneinton Nottingham

My spell-checker is a little more highbrow than I am – it is trying to correct Gainsbourg to Gainsborough. Clearly eighteenth century portraiture is more to its liking than scandalous 1960s pop music, or designer hand bags.

Of course, from Jane Birkin to Kylie Minogue is just a small step from one synapse to another. Pop singers, living in France – easy link. Kylie Minogue doesn’t come from a Nottingham lace-making family, but she is a more prolific pop star.

I hummed a few bars of Spinning Around before Can’t Get You Out of My Head appeared. There’s something evil about that song and it’s still hovering there ten hours later.

They have been ploughing some of the central reservations on the ring road, which might be something to do with the management of wild flowers for bees. Or it might be something else entirely. It seems too late to sow and too early to cut, so I’m not sure what is happening. There is a lot of ragwort growing, which is poisonous to horses. I’m waiting for someone to mention this, as you sometimes see concerned horsey types on roadside verges pulling it up.

Of course, you don’t find many horses on Nottingham ring road so it’s probably safe.

The truth is that live ragwort isn’t a problem as animals tend to leave it alone. This is why we haven’t all died out by eating poisonous plants. It can make them sick if it’s cut and dried in hay, but that’s not likely to be a problem if you were making hay from the contents of our roadside verges old crisp packets and discarded shoes are likely to be  a bigger problem. I’m surprised by the number of old shoes you see on the road in the course of a year. I never see anyone limping by the roadside with one shoe missing, which makes it even more mysterious.

 

Street Art Sneinton Nottingham

Street Art Sneinton Nottingham

Nearly as mysterious as the missing gas men. They were all over the place last week, blocking off the front of the shop and being a general nuisance.

Today, nowhere to be seen. The equipment is there, the cones and the disruption. Even the diversion signs and the holes in the road. But there were no workers. It is like the Mary Celeste put out a call for crew members and a ghostly set of roadworks is the result…

Perhaps an alien space craft came to call, possibly disguised as a Bentley, and they all walked up a ramp and disappeared into the boot.

At that point, I drew up on the shop forecourt and, still humming that bloody song, turned my brain over to thoughts of work.

Later, as I write this, I feel that I need to mention that these thoughts still left me plenty of time to drive safely, avoid accidents and smile sweetly at the bad driving of others. Yes, it was strangely out of character, but it was a pleasant morning.

I break for the evening meal. Julia has cooked and she has caramelised the roasted vegetables perfectly. She is much better at that than I am.

The sky outside my window is clearer than last night, and streaked with a weak attempt at a sunset.

And finally, when I went to search for the link to the old shoe haibun, I did actually find my name on Google, which was nice. The link was broken and I had to search the archive, but it was still nice. I may be many things to many people (many of them tinged with failure), but to the internet I am, and always will be, a poet.

Street Art Sneinton Nottingham

Street Art Sneinton Nottingham

The photos are some that Julia took as we drove back from the Mencap garden. There is a lot of it in Sneinton, and it is regularly renewed. I keep meaning to take more photographs of it. The final one was an attempt at artistic blur. It didn’t quite work but we did get the artistic lines across it. This was an accident caused by Julia’s stripy shirt reflecting in the car window.