Monday, March 05, 2007

Unbuilding chickens and Alfa Romeos

impossible songs wish for an Alfa and get a little nostalgic gradually.

impossible songs

Unbuilding beds.

I have been unbuilding, dismantling, unscrewing and packing all afternoon and I seem to be getting somewhere towards preparing for our house move but there is always something else to do. I haven’t started on the garage, shed or coal cellar yet. Ali did a load of packing when I was in Aberdeen at the weekend and with progress made I guess we’ll crack it all before the big day. In the short time we’ve been here, we’ve managed to accumulate such a lot of extra stuff and create a huge, muddy carbon boot print in the process - no doubt.


Life seemed grim this Monday morning; we both awoke with mild hangovers, fizzy tummies and overwhelming weekend fatigue. Every waking second of the weekend has been packed with and mixture of moving, setting up things in the holiday house, football and training, rain, flat/house moves in Aberdeen, children, grandchildren, swimming pools, heavy (nicely) meals, piles of boxes, landfill sites, sprinting around shops and as usual a series of unplanned events. Oh and we’re planning a house-warming party that is currently (in its early stages of conception) rivaling Princess Diana’s wedding, Glastonbury and the launch of the space shuttle as an event. I think the big garden, big logs and the wide open spaces of this odd corner of West Lothian have all gone to my head.

The chicken/ no chicken dilemma plays out.

We will not be keeping any chickens in this new garden either because:

a) We don’t know anything about them.
b) The cat will likely kill them – and he is beyond training.
c) We don’t want to have to kill them - messy.
d) There may be issues with neighbours and the like.
e) It involves an investment of time, money and chicken feed.
f) Nasty diseases, illnesses, ignorance and permits are other pertinent issues.

Lunar cat

A strange grey cat may be also adopting us, a bit like the black rabbit in Watership Down (but a cat) he breezes in a the margins of our consciousness and then whisps away over into the hedge to the field where the somewhat suicidal local game birds are hiding. His appearance has coincided with the recent pink and hazy lunar eclipse, which for once I actually witnessed.

Art Garfunkel.

In a rare social and musical experiment we are going to see man who launched all those tedious airport and high street restaurants all because he had a cool and funky name that could be exploited, Garfunkel. S & G have drifted back into by waking mind recently, I do occasionally hum “Farewell Frank Lloyd Wright” or “the Boxer” to myself in moments of weakness and I also watched a large chunk of “The Graduate” recently on ITV 4 at some ungodly hour. I hadn’t seen it since it was playing in the cinema many years ago (I think I had to lie about my age to get in), anyway it is such a beautifully shot, sunny film and strangely optimistic despite the dark, destructive family story line and S&G’s music was never better or more appropriate and the red Alfa Romeo spider is just the best looking little sports car on film.

No comments:

Post a Comment