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I thought I saw this a few weeks ago on Twitter ... or did I?

Monday morning, the gas boiler is behaving badly. Roll on Tuesday.

When cat food upsets the cat.

"Scraping the bottom of the windows" was never a proper expression.

I hear the voices at the bus stop but cannot understand a word.

The weather has a mind of it's own, unlike most people. 

Prayer for the Indigenous Scots

Bringing down the lies of the corrupt monarchy system and the tyranny of colonial rule, one disfigured statue* at a time, according to the whispered voices of the ancient Inuit Scots tribes who are guiding our actions via spirit guides: 

Some say the Scots did pretty well out of the ruthlessness, cruelty and greed of the British Empire at it's height - well a few certainly did. Schools, concert halls, libraries and hospitals were built. Also plantations, palaces and prisons, and a few stray gunboats. There were new universities for the few, there were careers in the military, there was transportation and immigration to the colonies, token postings, all opportunities of a kind. The gallows being another option.

Bit by bit the highlands were cleared, the clans broken up, the state's religions and controls imposed on us, political voices were snuffed out, our culture and language was mocked and diluted and we just got on with accepting it. We allowed it all to happen and we all learned that we had to speak "properly", up to a point.

We became an industrial powerhouse, dark satanic shipyards, mills and mines. We manned up for the armed forces, we doffed our caps to the top hats of the establishment, we almost believed in the mantra of "God somehow saving the Kings and Queens" while stuck in abject poverty and blissful ignorance. We fought in Empirical wars so that other people could make fortunes whilst sipping gin in Singapore. There were lies, back stabbings, puritanical sexual censorship and weapons of mass indifference. 

They stole from us and the rest of the "Commonwealth" spreading the curse of a toxic Christianity mixed with a blessed ethnic cleansing, a bad education, fake economic dependency and real exploitation. They continue to deny that it ever happened that way (the annual GERS fiasco as an example). Nothing has changed. 

It's still the elite, the royalists and the Bullingdon Club and their like that rule and oppress, they have the power and the privilege and the access. Don't kid yourself as to how they regard you, your family and everything you have or do either. It's all considered to be available to them for an given purpose and ultimately expendable. They'd rather shag a dead pig's head than allow you the head-space to grow, govern and make your own mistakes. Simple.

By the way you don't have to be born Scots to be Scottish, it's more of a state of mind thing. You can easily self identify (as is becoming the custom these days) into the obscure Alba tribe of your choosing once you've completed a mildly painful ritual. More of a cerebral challenge than finding a uniform and a flag, you might say.

Also don't expect much in the way of assistance or clarity from the SNP, it's all too complicated and there are careers to build and lots of time to waste. There's too much going on right in the political fog of stupidity but there's bound to be a handy, glossy leaflet to explain the policies that are planned as well as a few cartoon YouTube ads. (As Sean Lock once said "at what point does a leaflet become a pamphlet?). 

I don't despair at all, I just blog this stuff instead.

*Image courtesy of Canada.

Gravy Lover

It's true. Both of our cats love gravy. They also have cute little faces like the cartoon cat here, no the same long tongue though. They are enjoying this food but will go off it in a few days and turn their noses up at it. That's cats.

XXXX

Naturally I was tempted to call this piece "The Empress Helena and her search for the True Cross". It's a title I've stolen and used a few times with, as expected, little success. So much for that. Previous examples now live on as landfill. Matter cannot be destroyed, just rearranged and hidden.

I'd also like to say that it came to me in a dream but I've never been any good at recalling dreams, probably something to do with not being able to remember quite what I did yesterday or even "at the weekend". So it is then that these random items appear with no clear meaning or context, like space junk or asteroids falling from a purple night time sky without any traceable path back to their distant origin. Unrelated accidents and fluff piled up in a corner. Harmless; that is until a tiny, red hot asteroid lands on your head.

Substantial Mushroom

As we edge ever closer to self sufficiency driven by self imposed supply chain issues, the possibility of growing our own food arises. Something I've always been reluctant to contemplate despite all the Blue Peter style "dig for victory" TV things and articles. Then I discovered this mushroom at the bottom of my garden, growing all by itself. An unplanned event. It's not growing now though, as I pulled it up and I've no idea if it's a useful drug or is safely edible, or both. I'm taking my time and reflecting upon it before any further action*. The paving brick is for scale.

*Binned it.

Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!

RIP Charlie Watts, the coolest Rolling Stone and by far the best musician in the band (next best being Mick Taylor and next, next best being Brian Jones). As someone famous said, "this may be a watershed moment for my generation" ... not quite sure what that means but it sounds thoughtful and wise.

Garden

I used to think that "Garden" was a good band name, probably as a result of over exposure to the Woodstock vibe etc. Pushing in on the wistful hippie buttons. There were a few dreary "garden" bands out there, now all best forgotten. I prefer real gardens and so I'm walking amongst the various blooms and growths and fruits still bursting out as the summer fades away. I can't take much credit for it either, I mainly cut grass and pull out things that have been clearly identified as weeds by those with greater knowledge. 

I still have a shallow sense of impending doom that I can't quite explain, a lifelong problem (or a weird asset perhaps). Maybe the garden brings it on but also removes the sharper edges as bees buzz, colours emerge and life springs up optimistically against the odds. In this Eden I am neither Adam the baffled newcomer or God the constructor, I'm more of a ghostly angel labourer, following vague instructions but with a funny idea that any day now the fall of man and various other tragedies are about to take place.

In the meantime I'm simply enjoying the garden. 

The Art of Food Snapping

Looking terrible: Some/most home cooked foods just don't photograph well for me, this is a good example. Minced beef, onions, peppers, chorizo, tomatoes, puree and various random herbs and seasoning. Nothing weird. Seems that capturing food in a photo and making it look attractive, even edible,  is a bit of an art. Respect to those who do it well. This real life example will be fine with rice or pasta I guess, eventually.

Nobody I Know

 

Ignore what's above.

Apropos nothing: I may have come to point (and this point may be the rock bottom) where when I look at or hear from or read about any of the major political parties in Scotland* I do detect the nasty smell of rats somewhere deep within my nostrils. Is this just age induced, part of normal life experience or a simple fatigue brought on by over exposure to weasel words, ignorance, avoidance of truth and barefaced lies? I've no clear idea.

*Also applies south of the border.

Self Medicating

The mid-August Lurgy has struck me down this week. Having said that I'm still a high functioning vacuum cleaning expert and a regular operator of the wonky tumble drier. Things could be a lot worse though; I have now failed a third Covid test, I'm continuing on in the dull tradition of failing O Level Maths in 1970 and a few driving and intelligence tests along the way. I'm clearly in a muddy rut of eternal looping. Like the rest of the world I thought I might have the wee Covid bug but it's just regular man-flu so no heroic credit can be claimed. 

My strategy has been to fight it with an extreme diet of anchovies and Beecham's Powders, as your dead granny, who you always suspected was a witch, might have done. This salty drug and oily protein combination administered via sour dough toast isn't really making any difference but I still remain a fan of alternative medicines and lunch breaks. 

I also have a suspected "yellow tongue" infection. This means I can only use words that are close to the middle of the colour spectrum so am relying upon the goodness of robot tills and elaborate Italian style arm and hand gestures when out and about in the real world. As a result I've deliberately spent most of the week in my own imaginary world but you'd never be able to tell any difference.

As I write this drivel the cat has mistaken me for a bed and my laptop keyboard for a piano in a feline speakeasy where he thinks he has been hired to entertain the other hep-cats and pussies. This intolerable situation makes typing impossible ...

Accordion to Some

Not currently for sale but can be perused freely here. Distorted and unoriginal art work featuring a bootlegged image of a musician and his chosen instrument. Subtitled "Please don't shoot me I'm only the accordion player and to be frank my name isn't Frank". Pastiche on horse-hide velum. 

Reasonable offers will be listened to, noted and then ignored mainly due to lack of ownership and copyright and that sort of thing. More unobtainable bargains to released next week or thereabouts.

Wheels of Fortune

 

If this was a YouTube Channel:

"Stone circles don't have to be actual circles made of stone they can also just be circular pieces of stone. Step backwards into the inner void. Free yourself from the tyranny of history and your own mind's limitations."

"Should I just proceed with some random stream of thought regarding telling the time or seasons via such a device? No."

"Can't be bothered really."

"Life is full of choices and you certainly can rely on me to made some of dodgy ones, here and there and everywhere, all on a regular basis. So what I'll do today is metaphorically spin an imaginary wheel of fortune and see what mystical guidance that great spinning beast can provide."

 

Done and done.

Lost Football with a Pig

I understand that pigs are clever animals, unfortunately they taste good and of course they are not the easiest of animals to rear and handle (if you don't know what you're doing), also messy, as you can see from the photograph. For some reason they seem to like footballs though but I failed to get the money shot of this pig dribbling with the ball or doing an overhead kick. Maybe some other time. I lack the levels of killer concentration required. 

Right now I'm can be conflicted about eating meat, even anchovies on toast seems like a step too far. I know this will pass and that soon enough  a golden fried egg on a seared steak will become attractive once again. Life is a long cycle of ongoing repeats, until you die and get eaten - most likely by tiny bacteria and bugs. 

Cocio since 1951

Chocolate milk in a tin, nicely chilled, very few ingredients; milk, chocolate etc. All very simple. What's not to like there? Learn a little more here. I am not being sponsored or paid in anyway to provide this particular information. I regard it as a public service, being a good citizen. You all need to know about this stuff so I'm sharing it.

Alpaca Daily Photo

The truth is that alpaca ownership is not the easy road we thought it might be. As newbies to the world(s) of these lovely beasts and complete strangers in the alpaca community we've struggled. The paths of alpaca husbandry are many and varied as it turns out and there are some key directions and options we hadn't thought through such as:

Do you basically wear them by harnessing and harvesting their fine wool and creating high fashion "designer" but itchy and possibly infested garments?

Breed and show them for a quick but hazardous profit?

Race them in the various illegal competitions that exist only on the dark alpaca web?  (Heavy betting required and a knowledge of the gambling ways of the Hispanic community).

Eat them, (they taste like chicken) and via that experience publish a cookery book "50 Hot & Spicy Ways with an Alpaca"? (Also consider using their skins as upholstery for your custom Mini Cooper once they've been butchered, so generating a second book eventually).

Suffice to stay the jury is out and we're mulling over the various options - there may be many more than those I've listed here.

The Doors

Interesting Doors. What's on the other side? No one knows for sure. That's true of all doors*. You just can't tell what you might experience on the other side, so in order to do so you must pass through. Turn the handle, push and move forwards. Pain, fear, surprise, terror, disappointment, injury, revelation, discovery or perhaps nothing really, just another space to inhabit.

Editor's Note: *Does not apply to glass doors.

Into the Light

Meditations on spiritual matters for beginners: Follow the path into the light and then, without really thinking too hard about anything, you're back out into the dull but reliable world on the other side. There, that wasn't so bad. All the time it was just a rotation. If done correctly you should experience a rather satisfying sort of circular motion. Vague but tangible. Great for the flow of blood and the complexion.

Piano

Dark studies in the eternal key of piano: An old friend and companion, maker of wooden music, mechanical and complex, solid as a rock, resonating and still in sympathy, black and off white, in tune with yourself, weathered and coloured, unknown hands and unknown long hours history, unknowable, to lean on, listen to and play. 

W G Eavestaff & Sons, all the way from London, some place far away in the past, we thank you.

Misheard Yoga

The vital question that no one is asking is - is the extreme Connecticut accent complicating the already complicated science of Yoga?

I suspect that this particular session is not suitable for beginners: 

"Yoga and walnuts. Practice ton for ten minutes. Leave your regular life behind. Knees stacked up into your hips. Leave your regular life behind. Cash care here. Take your gaze inwards. Exhale at the back. Inhale cow poles. Exhale for the cat posse."

"Lateral!"

"Rise, inhale for cow poos. Wide to the thighs of your mat. Format to the earth or lower your blanket. Wreck your hits from side to side. Brain stickiness here. Face the lawn. Reach down to acquaint a gentle stretch. Gucci if you're tall then take your ears to the arch."

"Break into the straights!"

"Rub your knee into your chocolate. Break into the step-side, coin more inhale. Extend bull legs outside. Mink your bright elbow and hug your knee into your chops. Find your brats. Slow down - lengthen brats. Head loose and take on inhale. Move over your mask. Give yourself a vaccine massage. Whistle your soul." 

"You're welcome to stay here. And relax."

Skies East & West

 

Looking East

 Looking West

Turns out that the sky operates quite smoothly and easily in a number of different directions all at the same time with little or no human intervention. I hope that it's able to stay that way for a while.