Woke up this morning...

...and Richard Holloway was talking to Peter Howson on the radio, clearly things were both profound, deep, brow crunchingly serious and ultimately gloomy for them. They talked in cod-pop spiritual terms and were frank about depression, incarceration in mental hospitals and the heavy burdens of being alive and of course painting the living daylights out of it. I was left feeling that the world's end was just around the corner and that not even the thought of the up coming flat sausage and fried egg combo roll could lift my sagging spirits. Presbyterian doom and the frailty of the human mind had gripped my unshowered soul . That's the deal with art and religion, in their more thoughtful (?) forms, they just burst every bubble you might want to blow. Of course life is shit, everybody knows it but let's not roll in that mud pile for too long, of course I may well have just missed the point. Reflecting on all this broadcast bollox I strode out into the garden, filled the bird feeders and enjoyed the crispy, frosty bright morning. Radio off.

Saturday morning radio

Saturday morning radio (but not necessarily on the radio). Somebody posted that their rail ticket, a return to Manchester cost more than their holiday to Norway. It could be a spoof of course but the railways are well screwed thanks to woeful management and government strategy. Then we have Donald Trump being convinced that his TV was broken because he couldn't find the "Gorilla Channel", a channel where gorillas in the wild fight each other. This resulted in White House staff cobbling together segments of programs to try to quench the great man's thirst for gorilla violence all in a National Lampoon kind of way. Fire and Fury may bring the turmeric toned and repulsive real-life gorilla down, that or a friendly piece of actual fire. I won't be buying the book however or reading it.

Then a cut to a book review on the life of the great Jimmy Reid, quite a contrast from a tosser like Trump. Reid stood head and shoulders above the politicians and TU leaders of his time. A true self starter and a towering figure in working class and Scottish political culture, sadly gone for too long and his words and influence are badly missed. He'd have struggled with today's limp and poisoned government and feeble opposition.

"The meek may well  inherit the earth but they don't have the mineral rights" so said Paul Getty. Turns out he was yet another self serving and odious individual and the subject of a new movie. Not sure if I'll bother with it. Then a brief snippet on the Women's Equality Party, the representative did pretty well, talking over the rapid interruptions and scoring a few good points. All prompted by the "new suffragettes" article in UK Vogue which is apparently quite important (?).

Rick Hall, resident producer at Muscle Shoals died this week, funnily few people remember it or know how influential it was in popular music, all fading away into  a grayed out shaky version of history as the sounds grow faint and you walk back up the corridor to the present day. Otis Reading to the Osmonds via the Allmans and Lynyrd Skynyrd were all there and laid down various classic and not so classic tracks.

For some people it's Dry January, I can't be bothered with that, a brisk walk, a bout of University Challenge and some Port and Stilton keeps the mind and body active. Still Irn-Bru is now being tamed, half the sugar will be cut and the natives are restless. Fear of change and the possible watering down of a (great?) hangover cure has manifested itself. Once the new version is out then it's a good time to launch the more highly priced "Classic" and so win back the punters. Coffee break time for me now.

Horton hears a who?

Rocky Mountain Way: The iconic brand and taste of the great Canadian wilderness (cities and actual wilderness) has landed up in Fife. There in the abandoned home of a closed up Car Phone Warehouse brand and by a difficult to enter and exit car park resides one of the few Tim Hortons in the UK. It's all here, coffee, breakfast rolls and specials, cookies and of course the legendary Timbits. That's bits of donut covered with various sweet icings and filled with various sweet fillings. That's about it. 

Lost in space

Has anyone else noticed how quickly edited images upload compared to the actual raw material? No, me neither.

Off-grid problems

Staring into yet another black hole/money pit/void/place of safety/improvised nuclear shelter.

Impromptu archaeological digging was done, some good finds but none of them were the well hidden and blocked up outflow pipe.

The drain cover was not happy about being woken up at 0855 this morning, been a long winter.

The septic tank saga continues. Week two I think. We can find the way in but not the way out albeit there is a way out but it's blocked by who knows what (we have ideas). One brave soul ventured in, down into the abyss, the bowels of the the err...bowels. He stopped and passed time with a few troglodytes but that was about it, it's abandon hope all yea who enter here. So a soggy morning all around as we rise and fall on the learning curve that is living off-grid and the serene management of sewage and effluent in a non-interfering way. As a young man I'd considered getting back to nature but was unsure what it meant. I now understand that it means living as they did in the Middle-Ages apparently, attending moonlit mass, being toothless, dying at 35 and eating chicken's feet apparently. 

Signs o' the times

Truly, no orders for steak pies taken after December 27th.

When your septic tank's soak away is blocked and disaster may be imminent. 

CBQ's New Year image.

Some things are written in the stars.

Cruise around the sun

Well, that's another one nearly over. All still looks pretty familiar and repetitive now that I've been round a few times. 

The new year

Note: End of year grumpy post coming up. The phrase "new year", with or without capitals, makes the introvert and the mean little Puritan man in me cringe. People seem to think it's worth £££s of rare tourist gold so let's all roll over and be welcoming and servile. Who actually sees all that cash? What locals do well out of it? Hmmm. Maybe best to just get out of the way?

So crowds of bemused revellers descend upon the City of Edinburgh and set foot on the damp and frozen Scottish soil for (to me) no obvious good reason. Of course Edinburgh is a great place to visit but would you seriously want to be there in winter and at new year? You're going to get fleeced for one thing, also be dirty drunk, patronized and disappointed and be part of a huge and largely stupid crowd that don't quite know why but feel like they need to celebrate the turning of a calendar page by staying up all night in a strange city. It's neither religious or heathen, it's simply commercial exploitation and lots of dumb fucks will participate lemming like in the annual  carnage. There will be greasy chips and wooden prefabricated German Markets, baseless optimism (for a brief period), pickpockets, "warm hearted" media coverage and tolerant policemen and bouncers. 

In the distance you'll hear the bassy drone of music and interminable fucking bagpipes and the flash of far away fire works (for a world record nine minutes or so). Wow, this is the place to be, herded between fences, carrying no bags rules, frisked regularly and drinking watery beer from a plastic cup while you try to find your friends or just a friendly face. No, stay at home or go to a pals or a warm family house and avoid Edinburgh at all costs (then come along later in the year when it's all a bit more sensible and the weather is better).

Smashburger

Industrial light and magic.

A Smashburger burger (not sure of the exact model), the latest eating sensation to hit Fife, all the way from Denver Colorado. Actually a pretty good burger, all present at the tasting ceremony marked close to 10/10, a good score round these bemused and cynical parts. I may well return for further samples.

A rare view, taken looking north from Scotland's ancient capital Dunfermline. Snow shows on the Ochils in the distance and generally, as you might imagine, things are as grim as they've ever been there.

Photos of ghosts

Number 2 in an occasional series: I inadvertently summoned up a ghost the other day, mid winter soup creation and a rushed kitchen seance.  Not things I usually combine but accidents happen. There was some sewage vapour diluted in the air and a bloody coldness that could only have come from frozen hell itself. Clearly a troubled spirit, perhaps they lived here once, all curly hair, flowing robes and of course a deep sadness, the like of which I can't quite fathom. Strikes me as the basis of some new cookery show...spirits in the kitchen, ghouls on the chopping board, the great British Cake Seance. Another TV idea I'm working on is Dog Food Masterchef. I think this has great potential. The ghost agrees.

Faces

A bear with a split personality...from feisty pets.

A free sample from the hotel for dead fish.

Boxing Day

  #2017Acquisitions A cheeky wee 4 track EP inside our Xmas card from chums Impossible Songs @Johnbarclay1 and @alisongraham Top notch results of a German recording in October...

After a long and "blinded by the light of the low December sun" drive from Aberdeen it's nice to see that our Christmas release CD is being well received here, there and on Twitter. Thanks Mr CBQ.

Listen here, for free, if you will. Ta. https://www.jamendo.com/album/173271/in-another-world

Happy Christmas

Happy Christmas to all the people and to all the modern people. It never was the way it was or the way it was portrayed.

Christmas Eve Eve

Not even close to the nightmare before Christmas, no panic, mad crowds, traffic jams or chaos...the Christmas weekend arrives with a whisper, in my own head anyway. And (never start a sentence with an and) there never were blue passports...more utter nonsense to hopefully forget. They had black covers and blue text inside, that's all.

Grandma was a fishwife

But this isn't her. It's somebody else who looks similar. Grandma died in 1968 anyway so it's ancient history. Best to keep on the right side of these guys (?) at this time of year, particularly the window cleaner. Don't want a rogue window cleaner going rogue on us, that's worse than anything apart from a rogue fishwife maybe.

Migrants

The hotel for dead fish employs a lot of people that the above newspapers would describe as "migrants". I dislike the term just about as much as I dislike these papers. Folks from the EU who have the guts, courage and drive to uproot themselves and move and work elsewhere deserve nothing but praise. These people are bailing out out our industries and services daily, we rely upon them and they are generally good contributors and great workers. Of course there will be a percentage that are wasters, just like within the so called Anglo Saxon/Celtic/Norman UK population. You find those kind everywhere. As I've said before, many EU workers that I've encountered put their UK colleagues to shame with their energy and positive attitude. So stop buying these right wing tale telling rags.

Dill

Dill. What is dill anyway? If ever the North Koreans want to destroy us I'd suggest that rather than using nukes they use dill bombs. The mess a single dill bomb would create would be far worse than any other WMD. Dill is insidious, gets everywhere, has a funny smell and frankly I'm not sure why it even exists. Has anybody ever said that they'd love a nice piece of dill flavoured anything? Anyway at the hotel for dead fish today was dill day and it was pretty traumatic and messy.

Hotel for dead fish

(Nothing to do with fishwives either). Back at work today, mostly on some kind of auto pilot. One that allows random whistling and the inner humming of tunes in no kind of order. There is also a certain amount of day dreaming or flights of fancy. This includes imagined conversations, replayed conversations, prize winning scenarios, inspiring talks to both myself and a variety of others and of course well worded rants of justification from all sorts of sources i.e. the merits of adding cream to fruit juice, ways to remove Mr D Trump from office, other miscellaneous acts of political revenge or downright revolution based around the current UK set up, why I did what I did (or why I do what I do), remembering gilt edged rants from previous daydreams and attempting to reconstruct them and also, by way of a break, thinking a few positive thoughts about the future. Of course by the end of the day these various long winded acts of twaddle are completely forgotten but will not down reappear on my return to the hotel.

New album

This link may actually play the album / EP for you, the buttons above are just part of a dumb screen shot.

Recorded in Germany in October by the usual suspects, contains four tracks that we're actually quite pleased with. 

Sing along with Theresa

"Everybody!...

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day. 

Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way. 

Kicking around on a piece of ground in your hometown. Waiting for someone or something to show you the way!"