Buttons & Laburnum

In a Tesco yesterday, at the tills a teenage customer is buying single pack of Cadbury's chocolate buttons, he hands over a £50 note to pay for an item worth about 70p. A manager is called over to inspect the note and after a few minutes the transaction is complete. I found observing this moment fascinating, a strange little segment of life where so much has gone before and what (?) I wonder will follow. I'll never know, I was content to briefly tell myself a few stories about the event before, as usual, moving on. This is the universe we live in, series of unexpected collisions. Perhaps there's a greater explanation in the world of physics.

Flaming June is upon us. Out and about enjoying the colours produced by laburnum. A welcome sight in parks and gardens. But! When they drop to the ground the seeds of the laburnum tree (or bush) are extremely poisonous if ingested. Then again it appears that all parts of the plant are poisonous. Don't be drawn into partaking of a branch for a quick aromatic chew or a leaf for a salad. It's a beautiful thing but (in very rare cases) deadly. Actually I've never in my puff heard of anyone suffering from the effects of the toxins in the plant but that doesn't make it's danger some urban (or rural) myth. 

Atlantic Crossing

 "On closer inspection I realized that there was a real problem developing within the fabric of the airship's structure. I could see small tears and cuts appearing in between the support mechanism within the gas/air-buoyancy chambers. I could not understand the cause of the damage but there was certainly something odd about it's nature. It couldn't be simple fatigue or stress or low temperature damage but as a result we were losing pressure, slowly and steadily and the bridge had already reported to me their difficulties in maintaining a steady altitude." 

"I was considering mustering an emergency crew to conduct repairs but I knew that there was, within the team a mutinous faction intent on thwarting our mission. I had been observing the situation with them for some time but was hoping to avoid confrontation until we were nearer dry land, however it now looked as if that was now not possible. I was trying to collect my thoughts when I was suddenly shaken by a dull thump and an explosive shock from one of the nearby forward engine compartments. Whatever now?"

Ruthrie Terrance

A bit of an unexplained phenomenon in the sunny streets of Aberdeen. Their unusual "street font" tiling system bares witness to some peculiar geological activity. Either a road that is slowing rising or one on which ground level is sinking. Perhaps there's just slow moving pavement quicksand sucking things under. Something I've not heard about either.

In an area of rock solid granite and tradition values of construction it's hard to understand. Locals are up in arms (not really) and engineers and experts remain pleasantly baffled. There is no clear answer but there is no clear danger ... as the pavement sinks slowly in the North East whilst the mighty tectontic plates adjust themselves.

Dark Side of the Egg

 Unadulterated, unfiltered, total eclipse of the egg plate.

Cat by a window

The sun goes down and Missy the cat stares out of the window at the great wide world (and a car park) stretching out before her. She likes to look out, hoping for sight of some potential quarry to track and catch, maybe not tonight though.

Nobody quite understands what goes on in the minds of cats as they inwardly muse and observe human activity. She may be dreaming of a cat life well outside of these parts, a school in Oxford in rooms full of dusty books and the aroma of ancient timbers relaxing in a tight body curl by a log fire, perhaps a life at sea on a schooner pitching across the South Atlantic as rats scurry away before her and salt spray rides heavy in the cold air, or on guard in a musty old grocery store getting into pitch battles with hungry raccoons, crazy mice and black spiders as she defends her territory ... or maybe not. 

All she really wants to do is to get out and dig her claws into the trunk of some innocent tree and have a good gouging session into it's brittle bark and exercise her own pulling power.

Who really knows?

Local Features

Conventional history cannot be trusted (all the timelines are wrong, we are not the first to pass this way, civilizations come and go etc.): So as if to prove nothing much another early evening shot of the metal bridges that dominate life in and around our wee town. These were constructed by mysterious but highly civilized neolithic peoples to thwart the local ferry industry built up over many years by rival tribes. Amazing what you can do with and infinite number of ox-carts, bamboo poles and high tensile steel. 

Apart from these structures little is left of them to mark the fleeting time they spent walking the earth peering into dark holes, teaching bats to whistle and completing massive engineering projects. Sadly all their wisdom and culture is now lost to us. 

The bright, shiny thing left of centre is called the Sun, still an object of worship for many fairly well adjusted locals to this day.

PRV

 

If you're feeling sinister ... well maybe not but if you're under pressure then perhaps you need to rebalance your system, sort out the peaks and troughs in supply and demand etc. Get some cosmic equilibrium in there via the streams of living water from high up in the mountains of Midlothian. In terms of plumbing this can be achieved by the installation of a simple pressure reducing valve, a PRV. 

We've got a new one and already I can feel the waves of calm and blissful peace emanating from it's metal heart with a soothing and steady Karmic rotational beat. It quietly reverberates through the household and even though we are not nearby the "good" waves are reaching us, well me anyway. Good, effective plumbing is just another way to describe perpetual bliss.

Stairway to Boleskin

 

Perched high up on the southern banks of gloomy Loch Ness ... OK maybe not really gloomy but most times I've been to Loch Ness it's been pretty damp and well, pretty gloomy. I do recall one sunny afternoon spent around Urquhart Castle and at the top end of the Caledonian Canal (both north side) but that's about it. Anyway as the Boleskin House restoration works continue here's the garden stairway there that probably didn't inspire very much in the way of 70s songwriting, no matter what folks might think.

Pandemic Monday

Why does this happen on every other wash no matter how deep into the washer barrel you place the capsule? The detergent industry owes us all an explanation. Even on a Monday ...

"Just another pandemic Monday, whoa, ho ho."

BA Teaspoons

In this occasional series I'm going to be exploring the world of my favourite teaspoons. Those either rare and valuable or those that enjoy some design quirks or attributes that makes them special. There may not be many.

First up is a British Airways spoon from the 1980s. Back in the day BA travel was almost a pleasant experience, even for the lowest grade of passenger. Proper crockery and cutlery was used (actual china and metal), food and drink was free on demand (almost), tickets were flexible and flying was strangely pleasant. There were no searches or elaborate controls or security, there was a degree of boarding chaos but it was tolerable. Smoking and drinking were encouraged as was chat and banter between passengers and staff.

So as part of the in-flight deal free alcohol abounded, as well as snacks, scones, cream, coffee and proper breakfasts. I was a fairly regular traveler on the Edinburgh - Heathrow shuttles then and I guess, most likely as a result of drinking four double whiskies on the way home, one evening I pocketed this spoon. It's a really well designed, well made spoon, a little longer than you'd expect but satisfying to use. Strangely the BA script on the spoon's handle shows "British airways", no uppercase A on airways. That's an odd design feature or error.

I do wonder if others, greedier or dafter than me pocketed much more stuff; coffee cups, glasses, more cutlery or the high quality napkins that arrived with every place setting. I guess a lot of it is out there somewhere. I know during the start of the pandemic BA auctioned off a load of cabin material as flights were running down but I imagine it was all more recent, modern material and less desirable than 80s vintage (unless from business class).

 

TFTL

The truth does not live in fact, it lives in dreams and fiction. The truth is an untruth disguised as a truth. A loop is without an end, until you cut it to form an end. An end is simply the other side of a beginning.

Foreign Travel

Foreign travel and outdoor pursuits. Things we'd like to do but currently are pretty uncomfortable about, but you can still read books about it all or see others do them on TV, all across the world. If you are brave enough or stupid enough, the wide world is your limited options oyster. Of course there is so much contradiction out there it's impossible make sense of planet earth's status. There's the warnings of massive pollution, melting icecaps and wildlife extinctions, the bad news and obvious evidence. Then there's the Instagram and Nat Geo world's of beautiful vistas, landscapes and eye popping sunsets and travel shows where the sun glints on sea food platters and polished wine glasses as smug presenters enjoy a false life of luxury. 

Then our own little experiences, the repetitive dull rain, middle of the road weather and our grey and littered streets with the drone of traffic and sea gulls fighting over a Burger King box. It's hard to know quite where we are.  Real life remains a puzzle you just have to get on with.

Tomorrow the sun will shine, people will be behave better and be safer, governments, media and corporations will act responsibly and sensibly. Ordinary people will respect their surroundings, care for others and firmly hold authority to account for errors or poor policy. Bigots will just stop being bigots. I wish.

Not sure the clocks in the photo reflect reality either.

Black Album

Reintroducing the black album concept on the back of, well nothing in particular. Is it what the world needs? Not really. I wasn't thinking of making any "Black Album" album at the moment, it was attractive though when it was a thing but that was all some time ago and I'd forgotten about it till now. Anyway if we did make one then this would be a useful image to use to promote it in Scotland. Perhaps not. Black Irn-Bru wont catch on anytime soon. But a Black Album Eurovision Special just might. Cash in now!

Good 'uns

"Good 'uns," said the Major, unashamed of his behaviour in his chosen walk of life, back and forth to dwell in Fife. Good eggs, but one short of a half dozen, perhaps it was poached and eaten by my cousin. We'll never know the truth, he's such an uncultured youth."

Ogden Nashville.

Hidden Views

The views expressed here are not necessarily my views, I may simply be repeating those of others for effect or just to give them an airing. It's likely that most views are mine and were correct at the time, set in a certain context, maybe not so much now. 

The view above is however about to become history or at least will not be viewable in quite the same way for a while. It's rendered in crayon purely for artistic purposes and not for technical or reference reasons.

Surprisingly it was raining at the time this image was captured but the inner rainbows within the soul of the room took flight up to golden places and serenaded the surfaces and little nooks with hues and hidden meanings that I can't quite explain. That's my view anyway.

The world according to cats

Our cats are communicating with us using signs rather than sounds. The days of trying to translate a barrage of anxious, worried or hungry meows are over. The cats are now arranging pieces of cooked chicken into small message based piles in order to alert us to their needs and feelings. For example the arrangement of chicken on the right once translated simply reads as "please get off your fat arse, stop watching Gogglebox and get us some fresh food, preferable juicy meat in nice, runny gravy." A new era of feline companionship difficulty has dawned.

Your face says it all

At a certain point in your life your facial expression may solidify into something like this if you're not careful. Of course if you can't be careful then simply be absurd. This flippant but useful tip works at any age and in most circumstances.

Eurovision: Another year, another selection of strange but sometimes quite good entries. For all the tat and effects it still makes compulsive TV, I can't quite understand why it appeals to a crinkly cynic like me other than I suppose I do enjoy seeing Britain (and the BBC establishment) taking a light hearted pounding, I find that quite satisfying. People say it's outcome is political and tribal, well it is, but it's also because we're a bit shit and arrogant when it comes to competition and of course karma always wins.

Safe Spaces

Having a busy few days fumbling along with DIY projects and the like. I've just completed our newly sanitized and secure anti-Covid, anti-bullshit and anti-social hermetically sealed "panic after the calm but before the storm" panic room. There's a lot of potential panic around these days. Note the double zip entrance/emergency exits I've installed - just in case the beating of a hasty retreat is required. 

In the rarefied atmosphere of the finely balanced breathing system I'm fully expecting to really think some great thoughts, most of which I'll not bother sharing here. They will be philosophically heavy but lacking depth and poorly formed due to the light, puffy, synthetic air. 

Is the panic zone like the Twilight Zone or some futuristic space craft? No, but somebody once likened our grotty but interesting planet to a space ship, I'm not sure why other than the fact that it's traveling a 25000 mph across space but in a squashed up circular kind of orbit and we can't steer it. That's something I'm not mind-full of and I tend to block it out of my everyday comings and goings. 

There's a sparking new Lidl opened up just down the road so I'll be stocking up with all essentials needed for the long voyage to nowhere. So once disaster strikes we'll be safe in this special room and that'll be that. No dust, no toxins, no bugs, no nothing. 

Red Rug

Obituary: The red rug, the family carpet, whatever, has gone. Our red rug was a veteran in a number of fields of human conflict, birthday party incidents and wine spillages across various central Scotland locations over at least 15 years. Never properly cleaned or hoovered and home to numerous life systems and strange cultures, as a magnet for cat fluff, dog fluff and human fluff it served us well and kept our naked toes warm in all weathers. 

Some say it came from John Lewis, perhaps IKEA, I forget but any Velcro that touched it was instantly stained red with it's alien red carpet residue and Brillo pad like abrasive properties. In later years it was used as a platform for daily Joe Wicks antics and we have indeed worn it out properly with our regular high jinks. Now it's gone and the cats are very confused but a replacement will arrive soon (it may be here already), we'll see.

Funeral service - Broxburn Recycling Centre, 10:00 20th May, all welcome (subject to regulations).

Moments

Most of the time I take a fairly balanced view on how my life is going and overall it seems to be going quite well. I have standards but they can vary a little from time to time. I'm human. That's just how things are. Then along comes Twitter, desperate to root around in my psyche and remind me in a few sparse, barbed words that I could have done a whole lot more.