Knitted art and cartoon of the day

Due to an unexpected bout of spring fatigue and over indulgence in homemade soup and fudge (curse you fudge) the creative juices appear to be running low or at the very least are running at about £1.32 per litre therefore rendering them unaffordable. That's my excuse and I'm seriously considering sticking to it. The problem is that I never stick to anything (in creative terms) for too long. A lifetime of untreated span of attention problems are now coming home to roost albeit they are taking their time. That's due to their own inability to concentrate I suppose.

You may well recognise the woman represented here in colored wool. It seems that there is a lot of knitted art about these days unlike in the Renaissance when mostly oil paints, donkey urine, burnt umber, Biblical inspiration and fossilised cheese were used by the old and derelict masters. After that there was a complete descent into insanity followed by periods of war and depravity, this led to the ultra modern modernism and the rest is history. Nowadays artists get arrested just for being Chinese.

A plague of frog

Nice swimming technique.

It is written that in the last days there will be all manner of signs and great portents in the skies, floods, wars and turmoil and possibly the odd, isolated plague of frog, often turning up in plant pots surrounded by large expanses of relatively dry land. Signs and wonders indeed and there are still at least two toads in the coal cellar.

Meanwhile a group known as the EBible Fellowship believe that judgement day will fall on may 21st this year. Oh well. The oxygen of publicity is a great thing.

Big Pink etc

It's probably true to say that the best music is simple, at least simple in it's construction and the concepts it describes. The thing is that it is really difficult to write songs that work on a number of levels, pack a punch and describe and illustrate the basic issues that we humans grapple with. Songs that say something about common experiences and problems in a few short minutes and stick with the listener in a memorable way. Big Pink, after all these years still works, still communicates, still sounds good. I wish I knew why and how.

According to songwriter Robbie Robertson, "The Weight" was inspired by the films of Luis Buñuel, about which Robertson once said:

(Buñuel) did so many films on the impossibility of sainthood. People trying to be good in Viridiana and Nazarin, people trying to do their thing. In ‘The Weight’ it’s the same thing. People like Buñuel would make films that had these religious connotations to them but it wasn’t necessarily a religious meaning. In Buñuel there were these people trying to be good and it’s impossible to be good. In "The Weight" it was this very simple thing. Someone says, "Listen, would you do me this favour? When you get there will you say 'hello' to somebody or will you give somebody this or will you pick up one of these for me? Oh? You’re going to Nazareth , that’s where the Martin guitar factory is. Do me a favour when you’re there." This is what it’s all about. So the guy goes and one thing leads to another and it’s like "Holy Shit, what’s this turned into? I’ve only come here to say 'hello' for somebody and I’ve got myself in this incredible predicament." It was very Buñuelish to me at the time.

West Lothian ruins

Many a good meal cooked on the old range, but not for quite a while. More West Lothian ruins explored and hastily documented before the new season's growth obliterates them. Nice to see nature fighting back here and there.

After a quick hop across to a blustery Fifeshire to watch the usual Sunday morning football experience it was back to the Lothians for a brief return to gardening. The garden has a weary look about it, the debris from last year persists, odd and unknown things are sprouting, bulbs poke through and into bloom and the grass is stretching. Dead material needs collected and burned or brown binned if there is room. Next weekend should see the years first cut take place (the ancient mower will roar and spit fire once again I hope) if I can remember to refill the petrol tank, then the long roll out of garden maintenance can begin. As the eternal optimist I may even plant some seed spuds and hope against hope for a decent crop.

Stone skimming

Funny how skimming stones can all be used up on a beach and then a few weeks later a fine crop of them returns. So whilst the conditions were far from perfect we did manage a few decent skims, into the wind and across the waves maxing at 6 or so. Then there are the swings, rope swings that appear and are maintained by we know not whom, I'll call them the "swing gypsies" for the want of a better name. I imagine that they arrive at dead of night with their knives, ropes and sticks and set up swings, testing and approving them and then disappearing back into the mist. I only ever made up rope swings once, when we lived in the rambling Inchgarvie House I set up two tyre swings on a tree in the garden, not sure if the swing gypsies have adopted them and are still keeping them right, I hope so.

Ruins by the shores of the Forth, there are a few.

Absurd lists & keeping fit

People put this stuff on their ipods and then listen to them, songs about running mostly for runners, would it work for me? I am losing weight very gradually:

Long Train Runnin' - The Doobie Brothers
It Keeps You Runnin' - The Doobie Brothers
Running Down a Dream - Tom Petty
Running on Empty - Jackson Browne
Who Will You Run To - Heart
Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen
Band On the Run - Paul McCartney
Take It On The Run - REO Speedwagon
Take the Money and Run - Steve Miller Band
We Run This - Missy Elliott
Run to the Hills - Iron Maiden
On the Run - Pink Floyd
We Run - Sugarland
I Run for Life - Melissa Etheridge
Run Rudolph Run - Chuck Berry
Run to You - Bryan Adams
The Long Run - Eagles
Fox On The Run - Sweet
Ready To Run - Dixie Chicks
Run-Around - Blues Traveler
Run Don't Walk - Hey Monday
Young Hearts Run Free - Kym Mazelle
You Better Run - Pat Benatar
We Could Run Away - Needtobreathe
I Ran (So Far Away) - A Flock of Seagulls
Running On Sunshine - Jesus Jackson
Time is Running Out - Papa Roach
When The World Is Running Down - Police
Runaway - Bon Jovi
Runaway - Del Shannon
Runaway - Jamiroquai
Runaway - Janet Jackson
Runaway Train - Soul Asylum
2000 Miles - The Pretenders
Road To Nowhere - Talking Heads
Run Through The Jungle - Creedence Clearwater

Didn't know they were sisters

Emily Deschanel and Zooey Deschanel are sisters (OK it's not a common name), am I the only person in the world who didn't know this? You can learn a lot about life, celebrity culture, sex and swearing on Twitter it appears. The dynamic trending statistics open and flow like a form of bizarre cyber beach combing. Strange, random, unrelated facts and opinions wash ashore like strands of DNA seaweed, some stay for days, some disappear in seconds, famous, infamous and trending and then gone away, swallowed into the vanishing clicks and pulses of some sparky oblivion. When the people speak everybody listens... but not for too long.

Meanwhile in Florida a tornado gathers and broods over the Space Centre, the end of the world will most likely follow shortly but at least we have a photo to remember.

Unfortunate

Sadly, closer to reality than you'd wish (from the Daily Reckless).

Our polling cards dropped through the letterbox today, apparently we're a part of Linlithgow, fair enough. The flimsy cards are a grim reminder that a number of currently under employed buffoons wish to avoid becoming unemployed buffoons after 5th May. We are now in for a long stretch of strained argument, tired rhetoric and the inevitable blame shifting and finger pointing that makes up modern politics. Of course what this country really needs is a sustainable energy policy, a fair system of housing and urban redevelopment to build social cohesion, a transparent tax system and a good 50p cigar.

From a balloon

Flame on

Over there is the Tay and Dundee, home of jute, jam and Bob Servant.

Close encounters with the M90 (note the balloon's distant shadow).

Yesterday, after all the football stuff we embarked on a balloon journey from Bridge of Earn to Strathmiglo (or at least a field nearby). The thing is that ballooning isn't so precise a form of travel so it's more about the journey that actually getting anywhere. We traveled at about 8mph, reached 3000 feet and then at times skiffed over fences and hedge tops. Along the way I learned a fair bit about balloons in a kind of DIY, make shift, hands on way, you see everybody has to help at both ends of the trip. Going up was good, coming down was a few degrees away from a slow mo crash landing. All in all a pretty fine and easy flying experience.

Neighbours

Lunchtime in the field next door.

The field next door, some drainage problems there.

So far the weekend has been dominated by the twin cultural forces of football and music. The football being Dunfermline v Partick Thistle, Bayside v Glenrothes Juniors and Brazil v Scotland. In a weekend already an hour short that's a lot of football to consume. The music part was an extended eating, drinking and jamming affair involving a select set of Edinburgh musos that took place here last night, excuse me while I entangle and then disentangle the entire area.

Quote of the day from the Census advert: "The census is so vital that you risk a £1000 fine if you fail to take part." OK, don't explain the reasoning just get a nice, straightforward threat in there early. That's the kind to talk and tactics that the people of Scotland really will understand and of course respond to on the 27th.

Compliant inner man

When I saw this sign the ultra compliant inner man in my inner man immediately had to obey. So I stopped and started taking a photograph of it in all it's red and white glory. Then, after some conflict and applied reasoning I chose to disobey the sign and moved on, starting again, or in other words failing to stay stopped. All in a days work for today's modern and uncomplicated man. Some nagging doubt remain however, can't quite put my finger on it...

Night out with added beer

Confushion - drummer out of shot.

Confushion - drummer out of shot

Invisible Helpers - drummer out of shot

Drove to the Voodoo Rooms last night for a Secret CD gig but I was driven home by Ali so I had some beer, nice. On the bill the earthy, bluesy, choppy funk and social commentary of Confushion, the downbeat melancholy of Karen Edwards, the tight band but immature and superficial content of Augustilia and the briny, brainy progressive winkle-picking of the Invisible Helpers. The end result was a neck and neck necktie between those twins forces for Edinburgh's good - the Helpers and the Confushion Brothers, both equally dazzling: 10 points each. Thanks to Jim, Fi and Dave for hosting the night.

Apologies for not photographing ace drummer Sam Barber and the two other acts. I'm lazy and it's not much of a camera.

Shrine of the Sea Monkey

Every so often I get a momentary twinge of nostalgia or an itch or something for those halcyon days when, for a brief moment in time I was both keeper and shepherd to a thriving colony of Sea Monkeys. They lived a modest life on a window sill in an office I once occupied, I kept them there in a kind of guilty secret kind of way.

Now that I think about it they may have been hidden by a venetian blind. Sea monkey reflection only lasts a moment and then, thankfully passes. I know that sea monkey's have some purpose but it's exact nature escapes me. Perhaps they are a source of protein, perhaps not, perhaps they are the salty gods of their tiny world, a world we'll never quite understand or appreciate.

Supermoon

I heard the moon was a Supermoon on Saturday, a big special, once in a long time moon. For a while the clouds hid it and I felt a bit frustrated at not being able to see this fully formed moon. When the clouds cleared about 9.00 PM I did see it, it was a very nice moon, maybe not super though. I hate being picky about these things but...

Echline Daily Photo

Multicultural is a puzzling term. I suppose I think of it as a normalising thing like buying a portion of sushi at a BP petrol station when picking up a copy of Scotland on Sunday (avoiding the Gaelic bit), chatting to the Asian attendant and then getting held up behind a Polish truck that has broken down. It’s not really about religion, politics or skin colour. It’s interaction, tastes and smells, common experiences, making eye contact and reading the signs; then respecting them and obeying them. In order to remain as diverse as possible I ate the sushi at half time during the Celtic/Rangers game and had a Euro-Muller fruit corner at the end. A chip sandwich with brown sauce would’ve been ok but that’s so 1990.

Not what I expected: The whisky capital of the world is at No1 Fife Street, Dufftown, AB55 4AL.

Why do weekend newspapers still carry a weeks worth of TV schedules? Do people actually read these things or treasure them in the paper rack right up until next Sunday. In the future they will not exist, along with petrol stations, high street banks and the Scottish Parliament. Meanwhile Col Gaddafi promises a “long war” in Libya. He’s a despot, a tyrant (who put the rant in tyrant) and possibly a lunatic but unless somebody can take him out he’s probably quite right with his awful prediction. Meanwhile what about some intervention in Zimbabwe, Yemen, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Gaza, Sudan and a dozen other places?

Today’s word - Anticipation. Often better than closure, receipt, conclusion, actualisation or delivery but you wouldn’t want to live your life always in a state of constant anticipation.

Doing it yourself

"The wind blew and the rain came down and beat upon the house, the Sky dish, the garden and the gate and the bolt on the gate did break. After about three months the bloke who lived there got a bit fed up with keeping the gate shut with a brick and actually got up from his lazy ass and fixed the broken gate." Thus spake the Lord (as agreed and verified by the Great Pumpkin). All the poor bloke really needed was an occasional reminder, a Saturday lie-in and a warm scrambled egg roll. Men are such simple creatures.

Meanwhile life with the family cats is proving troublesome. Either by being neurotic and clingy (Clint) or festooned with uncontrollable fur that has a life of it's own (Missy) or getting under your feet (Anna). Then there are the other mysterious and inexplicable behaviours they exhibit. Acting like cats mostly.

Tea can be summed up as ground breaking a scientific experiment today. The science of chutney was the branch being explored. The following formula explains all:

Local chutney + chicken + onion/peppers/misc exotic herbs and spices x 1.5 hours at 180 (2 x rice + oil + salt - time)/(30mins saved) = wholesome/useful/tasty/scientific.

Neurotic, clingy and lovable.

Get yer...

I must be going crazy.

Today's background music designed to try to cover the sometimes tedious background has been from those walnut faced rockin' embarrassments the Stones. First it was Let it Bleed, then Beggars Banquet, then Their Satanic Majesties and finally Get Yer...etc. This 40 year old soundtrack has assisted my Friday evening laundry work and relentless time wasting and contributed to brief periods of unexpected reflection. First of all I don't like the Stones (much) but they seem to hold onto that odd place inside of me where the soundtrack of life plays on in some deranged loop. I'm not sure you can ever choose this, it more or less chooses you because the keys are set in some remote and uncontrolled fashion while you are busy doing other things and I'm now, unwittingly and almost unwillingly revisiting it. It'll all make sense some day and there is no second of all either.

Over the edge

Things to seriously consider worrying about are everywhere, beware: radiation, Japan, rising fuel prices, rising food prices, pension schemes changing and devaluing, trouble in the Middle East, David Cameron, Nick Clegg, George Osborne and the rest of the cabinet, Scottish elections, interest rates, TV meltdown, slow broadband, the clocks changing, things in Africa, cold weather, filling in Ryanair forms on line, bugs and creatures, hippos fighting rhinos, strange noises, strange shadows, gangsters and drug dealers, smells that appear and disappear that seem to come from cats, toothache and old age, earwax, worn out shirts that you loved once, getting through a book, a strange pain in your side, factories, misunderstandings between people, muddy roads, the defence of the realm, airports, faces and number plates pixelated out, road signs, people who think PFI is still a good idea, football results, the Olympic Games, diet, diets, what to buy and what not to buy, dark empty stretches of time that seem to occur now and then, subtitles running behind the visual images on Sky News, planning to do things but never doing them, relearning or unlearning the guitar, frustration, daylight and dusk, fog and road conditions, potholes and broken up surfaces, keeping up, avoiding chocolate, avoiding things to avoid, religious things, political things, mystery containers in the freezer, people talking on News night, redundancy, over capacity, being busy, being quiet, keeping up with things, letting things go, wasps returning, paint flaking, losing a cherished sock, briefs and bulletins, tweets and statuses, change, forever change…whatever that really means.

I’m waiting on the news to end, the news must end, once the news ends I can escape, perhaps, perhaps I can, escape the magnet of the news; and read a book.

Bristol Airport Daily Photo

Back home after an Easy Jet delay scare at Bristol. Nothing worse than your flight being called and then...stalled, for mysterious technical reasons. Eventually we left the air conditioned, bright canteen that is Bristol Airport for the dull but very welcome Edinburgh rain.

Amy Pond Life

More like lack of life as dear Amy has been commercially plasticised along with the Good Doctor. Just remember she's not a toy, she's an action figure from Ebay. Serene in this quick and precise frozen state, jumping with odd angular, hinged movements from the opening Tardis doors to the surface of some strange planet, couch or carpet, wherever the imagination takes. Possibly one near you; eternal life of sorts, orbiting or exploring the timeless universe some days, on others buried at the bottom of the toy chest. A word of caution: at times she may be sticky in places.