£16.19 and Tiny Funerals

Base things that we have now been reduced to: Not quite so crazy pricey times and shortages as we've known in the past but this is what £16.19 worth of prime stock petrol looks like (10 of your UK litres). Except you can't see it at all because it's in a plastic can. The reason it's in a plastic carrier can (that's not an actual jerry can) is so that I can use it to power my faux electric lawn mower or perhaps a hybrid motor vehicle. These things are all the rage out here in the backwoods. 

Yes. It is getting very close to the grass cutting and shooting season. I face facts. The guys in the comic below want to eat the rich -  but shoot them first I suppose. I'm uncomfortable with that idea though they may have point about a few wider issues. But shouldn't could  be couldn't  in the word balloon? Maybe it's a "more hip" slang take on other regular slang and I'm missing it. It would be nice to use a word like vernacular here but I'm just not sure how to. I can't keep up.

 

In the garden we have this lovely bush that goes crazy with huge blossoms at this time of year but they very quickly get obliterated by the mad March and angry April winds. It happens every year and nature doesn't seem to learn. I makes me sad and annoyed but never unemployed. I have to pick up the fallen blossom and give them all a series of quiet, tiny funerals.

Heroes & Villians

“Not another long, rambling piece about those golden voiced, Californian kings of surf music and their mid career turn around brand of mystical, esoteric, adult-oriented, mild acid rock?”  I hear you say. 

Well, it certainly isn’t about that eternally interesting but confusing topic. Nope, just me going on, a bit tediously, about the kind of opinionated pish older men like me tend to favour. They can’t help it. Perhaps it may or may not pass as wisdom. Nobody listens or gives a fuck anyway. Maybe the Kurdish barber doesn't mind a few moments of low key ranting.

Click the link in the pic and you’ll be transported somewhere better. Maybe. You won’t learn anything that's new though. I'm not for giving away my revolutionary plan.

Nutella Dog Biscuits

The title gives away is exactly what this story is all about. Except that it's not really. Click on it to read.

Oh, and Happy Easter, to my dear bots and readers. Easter doesn't mean much to me but I do like a chocolate egg or two. Mustn't grumble.

😼

The Lost Jotters

I am not the kind of person who'd want to waste a decent enough home baked portion of graphic artwork. I'm not happy for it to languish lost somewhere. Wasted. Out of sight, overlooked or forgotten. I put it here and it leads on to a short story that's stuck up on Substack. That's as stuck as a story can get. How stuck can a story ever be? Don't ask. Too many examples.

Everybody and anybody who's ever done any kind of writing knows and understands the deep pain and frustration of losing a jotter's worth of your workings. Everybody except for me.

Live and Reasonably Dangerous

It's not just a long dry list. There are opinions, experiences and things like that. A lot of it really happened, as far as I can tell. You can't be sure these days. Click on the immaculate piece of design to enter into the low level debate.

Bollards

In other news, I've recently splashed out and bought this boat. Lovely stuff. My plan is to head down to the Adriatic for the summer and then bum around a few random Greek islands drinking ouzo and what not. Ali and the cats* will form up as the scratch crew. It'll be a breeze. Wait a minute; when I said I'd splashed out and bought a boat what I really meant to say was that I popped across to the Co-op and bought a loaf and some reduced price Lorne sausage. What a silly and misleading mix up to make. I must be getting old.

Next up; a few low flying drone shots of some of my favourite local bollards. "You just can't beat a good bollard," as my maternal grandmother used to say.

Just beside the land and quite close to the water, they built the harbour, many years ago. Some brilliant choices there. Not sure if today's young minds in their ill fitting caps and garish nail polish would've easily come up with such a useful idea.

*If you'd like to own "Ali and the Cats"  and use it as your folk/rockabilly band name, then I can tell you that it is up for sale: the current price being £5000. Contact me in the comments. There is a closing date for bids etc. but I'm not sharing that right now. Terms and conditions also apply.

Seasonal Hat

Protect and Survive: A few posts ago, I mentioned that a somewhat turbulent online search was underway to locate a reasonably priced yet practical hat for some solar protection, in anticipation of what promises to be the hottest summer since that rather unfortunate, dinosaur era ending, meteor strike. You may already have gathered that, at times, I am not entirely of sound mind.

In any case, the search has concluded successfully, and a hat has been acquired. It is of the Pork Pie variety, evocative both of the jazzy musical piece and the culinary item. I used to like the pies but ... something has changed in me, some seasonal variation. Remarkably, it almost fits my big head, which must be counted as an unexpected success.

It's use, however, is governed by two simple rules:

1. It is to be worn only in genuinely sunny conditions; and
2. It must be accompanied by a beat up pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarer glasses.

These conditions are, of course, non-negotiable.

Van Gogh Cat

Back to old school style graphics and method. Once this was cool and at the cutting edge. All you needed were a few simple credits. Hours of innocent amusement followed. Those were the days. Back to digital basics. So I am returning to myself, these things I can't quite comprehend:

 "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die."

LinkedIn Pizza

These scribbles accidently fell into the LinkedIn Speak Translator.

"Embracing authentic connections means honoring what works best, and when it comes to pizza, I’ve discovered my ultimate truth. While I confidently navigate fine dining and its intricate choreography of cutlery, pizza inspires a different kind of leadership: finger-first, unapologetic enjoyment. I’ve mastered the art of placing that perfect slice, pointy end first, into the gateway of my digestive system, a bold declaration that some experiences demand simplicity and full sensory engagement."

"This philosophy extends beyond pizza to wings, burgers, paninis, and every sandwich innovation, because authentic enjoyment requires authentic approach. Here’s to embracing this delicious truth and committing to making pizza nights a regular, strategic opportunity for connection and joy, shared with my incredible wife and our circle of support. The journey to balanced, joyful living is about knowing where to lead with elegance and where to lean into unfiltered, finger-licking impact."

#AuthenticLeadership #WorkLifeIntegration #CelebrateTheSimpleThings

Pizza Cake & Witch's Theme

Click on the image if you want to read about my troubled relationships with various food types. Mainly pizza - something that's not really a food type (by my own rigid definitions anyway) but who cares.

Today I'll mostly be concentrating on on-line shopping for a hat. It's required in order to thwart the summer sun and heat that may come my way. For it to work at all, the hat will need to become part of my personality.

Also: Something of a first. I also put a video and various scribbles up on Substack. There's no point in not sharing these bits and pieces. Life's too short.

South Queensferry Daily Photo

When you're not looking; I'm sure that cats get up to all sorts of peculiar stuff. This time, we were looking. This sort of thing isn't seen as particularly odd around here. It's also obvious that our high flying internet cables are an easy target for a cat attack. Or low flying Chinooks, still a common sight around here.

In other, more serious news, the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz isn't having much impact on the oil pumping business nearby at Hound Point. It's carrying on regardless and arguably illustrates how little most of us know about the oil industry and its many different markets and the trade between them. I tend to see it all in terms of forecourt fuel prices; I guess that's the common barometer for us all. Also, the economic impacts are about more kinds of cargo than oil.

I'm not an apologist for big oil or big anything else; just noting a general lack of understanding. We forget how joined up and mixed up our world has become. It's far more complicated and diverse than just petrol pump prices. Despite that, an American idiot and an Israeli psychopath can, in their own evil and ignorant ways, pull together and fuck the whole thing up in minutes. There are many good people in the USA, Israel and Iran. Why is it that we allow the absolute zoomers (Bible, Torah and Quran bashers) to be the ones in control?

I should have just stayed quiet after posting the cat photo. However in the evening things brightened up; on TV Steve Carell is very funny in "Rooster" and "Last One Laughing" (Season 2) is a hoot. Simple things etc.

A Link Back In Time

"Something, something ... the mists of time? Yeah, I get it."

Now I Know

This T-shirt is sold out in all the larger sizes. It all makes perfect sense. Shaky but steady blokes of a certain age searching them out, I'd imagine. 

Mystic Pizza Nights

 

If you can study these three pictures 🠱 and somehow solve the puzzle hidden therein, then you're a far better and smarter person than I ever will be, Gunga Din. There is no prize because there is no competition. In order to join the Cult, first of all you must leave the Cult. Click here.

Please ignore this picture. 🠟

Fictitious Idiots

Click on the picture to read about how people can inspire you, even when they are not quite at their best. "People are the greatest fun" is a lyric Brian Maclean came up with many years ago. It's buried somewhere in the album "Love - Forever Changes" in a song called "Alone Again Or". It's one those odd phrases that enter my mind from time to time. In the context of the song it's got a darker side. It's a quote from a conversation. I'll leave it there.

A Colourful Piece

  More ragged views and observations - click on the image.

It's music to me, but maybe not to you.

My recollections can be sketchy.

Unreliable even.

Upside down.

Triangle.

Done.

For.

Me.

!

That's Quite Expensive

It certainly is.

Meanwhile looking on the bright side ...

At the Gallery

At the gallery*. I have a few questions. Why is it that so many things there; the cafe, the toilets, the floor space layouts, the car park and the access points, seem to be badly designed? Not quite fit for purpose. Clunky. These utilities and spaces do not work well. They function poorly. Yet we are in an art gallery where highly regarded examples of artwork and design are on display for the public to enjoy. There is a mismatch. The setting and the content are at odds with one another. The building does not work.

I was in a Kwik Fit the other day. To access the office you had to walk through the workshop between the car ramps. There were warning signs but it was tight. The gallery reminded me of this. People are not properly catered for within the space. Having said that, Kwik Fit provided a quick and brilliant service on that visit. But back to the gallery, these photos are not examples of anything meaningful. Stark signs, bare surfaces for reference only, the kind of things you might find in Russian interiors. 

I stayed for the food. I did enjoy my rather large helping of tasty, spicy salad and a nice piece of sticky cake. The coffee was on point. The soup looked good too, but I chose not to try it. Pea broth. I was trying to ignore the peculiar layout that the nicely prepared food was presented in. The weather was poor but it was outside. Beyond the glass. There was lots of cafe chatter that did not involve us. We almost mixed with the real Ravelstonians, a rare breed I imagine. Hats and glasses are vital.  

Elsewhere I leaned in towards the surrealists and backed away from the more modernist types. I decided against taking photos of the actual art. It was that kind of day and I was in that kind of daft mood. The subject matter I disliked was too self obsessed; scattered rags, ploppy figures, crayons and untidy collages with blood stained paints, body fluids and so on. Beefheartish genre. Unpredictable but expected. Not to my taste but it's art. 

The wider world still looks tatty from winter's ravages. It was a bad day for pothole sightings too. Sometimes I worry about all the wrong things. Tyres mostly. I'll try to avoid Edinburgh and dense paragraphs.

*No names, no pack drill.

Tick Tock

Unreliable cartoons: If this really happens today then the spiritual, philosophical and scientific worlds will simply fall apart. If not then ... just another false dawn.

Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.

 

When things get to be too much*. When you're about to get into fight or flight. When your mind begins to fog up in the turmoil of the moment.

Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.

This phrase is widely used in emergency response and military training because when people panic, they rush, make mistakes, and actually become slower.

So the rule reminds you: calm action beats frantic action. No confusion.

What it means psychologically: when your brain feels overwhelmed, your nervous system shifts toward emergency. Thoughts speed up, breathing gets shallow, attention scatters, mistakes increase.

The phrase interrupts that pattern.

Instead of: “Hurry up, everything is going wrong.” 

Your brain hears:“Slow down. Do it cleanly.”

And paradoxically, that often makes you more effective.

How to use it in real life: when you feel flooded or rushed, pause for one breath. 

Say to yourself: “slow is smooth.”

Do the next step carefully. 

Let the second part follow naturally: “smooth is fast.”

You’re reminding yourself: precision first, speed will come.

Notice how all these ideas fit together.

They’re really the same mental move, but from different traditions.

---------------------------------------

Ernest Hemingway: endure the rough sea.

Marcus Aurelius: control your response.

Admiral Jim Stockdale: shrink to the 3-foot world.

Fireman's rule: slow down to regain control.

Each one reduces overwhelm by shrinking the moment.

This is a public information post. 

You may wish to try out these techniques at some point. 

I take no responsibility for the resultant consequences.

Good luck out there.

*You might click on the image but that won't help you.