Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Inside of the paperweight Posted by Picasa

Piano and ancient presbyterian hymnbook Posted by Picasa

Piano keys Posted by Picasa

Now that the platypus and I are no longer proving, it's taken up residence in the front room to keep an eye on passing basket abusers... Posted by Picasa

The cat from along the road basking on the roof of our garage the other morning. Posted by Picasa

Note its snippety Cambridge cat expression. Posted by Picasa

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Multicoloured CD. It's surprisingly difficult to get this to work, I'm not sure why. Probably some sort of aperture thing...answers on a postcard please. Posted by Picasa

Very high-key tealight. Posted by Picasa

Shot of my pet rock - an amethyst. I've had it for years, but it now appears to be rusting, which is a bit odd. Posted by Picasa

More amethyst Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, September 21, 2005


Still more beasties continue to infest the house (it's just as well I have my trusty Spider Hoover to deal with most of them). Just had to rescue Michael from a ravening butterfly in the kitchen. Apparently it could have had his arm off, but is now flying happily around the back garden with the multitudinous spiders and wasps...

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Folksongs are your friends

Things I learned from British Folksongs

Note that the English ones make things more difficult by disguising much of the advice in tree metaphors, while the Scots and Irish get stuck right in there with the birth/death/sex/love/tragedy/despair/getting drunk. I'm not sure about the Welsh, but Wales has scared me ever since I read "The Owl Service".

Sunday, September 04, 2005


The people in this town appear to be possessed of a terrible compulsion to be law-abiding and tidy, and yet completely incapable of distinguishing a bin from a bicycle basket. Nearly every day I have to remove assorted crisp packets, chocolate wrappers, empty beer cans, etc. from the wicker basket on my bike (it's parked in the street). Usually I nobly take them into the house and put them in the bin. But the other day, I was in a hurry and so put a couple of lovely apple cores out onto the pavement.

Today I came out to find that, along with the wrappers and a cigarette end, there were the apple cores again. Which means it wasn't some drunken person, but presumably some busybody neighbour who must think I sit in the front room eating apples and chucking the cores out the window onto the street. Why else would they think it was reasonable to pick them up and put them in my basket?

If I ever catch anyone at this, I'm following them home and posting the rubbish through their door.