A place to park those random thoughts, stolen images, hidden conversations and incoherent babble from beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down.
Every so often you'll see dead electrical switches like this on odd walls, mostly in rural locations, the rusty pumps and storage systems long gone. Petrol and diesel were not the dirty words they are today. We know better now but we don't really because it's all someone else's fault and we're as much the victims and part of the cash/taxation fodder as the third world crude oil workers who's products are cleaned up and sold on to us. Sad to say, interesting but ultimately ugly and over weight EVs shipped over from China don't really do it either. You know they'll be unsupported tech junk in seven years. We just might need a better solution.
We took a wee break off and into the bright Perthshire amber of autumn's passing. The four seasons in a single day magic still happens. Rain, sleet, hail, snow and sunshine passing before us in a single afternoon. Nearby Schiehallion getting a white top as did the further away peaks of Glencoe. Hotel breakfasts, big glasses of wine, comfy beds and all manner of people determined to run marathon distances. The long and winding roads to there and back again made good driving, all reasonably well maintained as if to prove that an independent Perthshire might be a viable thing - even if it's run by a small Conservative majority in the council (?).
And on the subject of independence, the untimely death of AS surprised us on Saturday night. History will not be kind to him, the media, the current SNP lineup and the establishment's own mechanical grindings will see to that. What ever narrow side of things you inhabit never forget the long screwdriver of colonialism's inbred injustice and the power of privilege will always have their sway in this country (other countries are also available for this). Thirty nine years spent in the thick of it, via the military, taught me that, but thankfully I remained a successful misfit and am still able to enjoy this land for what it is (whatever that might be). If I hadn't taken the Queen's shiny Shilling I'd write a book about it all.
"Out of the blue and into the black. You pay for this but they give you that." The old growler NY.
Our peas were a wild success but for all the space and care it takes to grow them we only got the equivalent of a large bag of frozen ones. They were tasty though and nice to eat freshly picked during garden meanderings. We also reared tiny amounts of strawberries, gooseberries, plums and a few pears. The apples are still too small to count as fruit so we're not expecting much of a yield now. As for the kale, cabbage and cauliflower, we suffered a total wipe out thanks to invisible pests.
In the end we'll never eat well from this garden and now that the cats are actively using selected chunks of it as field toilets, I'm thinking that we've achieved peak garden. Actually we may have reached it some time ago and now be entering a period of steady decline ending with a scrappy, leaf and moss covered wilderness where exotic insect populations can thrive and expand exponentially, eventually overwhelming us. A fitting end for this postage stamp sized outpost of civilisation I'd say.
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*The reversed image means nothing by the way, I just liked adding it in. The "harvested" tweet below describes my own ongoing problems quite accurately.
The good news is that romance and relationships are now rearing their quirky little heads. The girls with mushrooms and carrots teased into their ratty hair and horrid grimy fingers are the new evangelists for some dear green place over the hills. Their peculiar beauty routines and the fact that, as active refugees, they have time for all this, following ordeal after ordeal, can only lead to some Bridgerton style mash up. Love and guerrilla gardens in the sand dunes as they pamper themselves before attending the Great Royal Ball; after that they find the promised land and are summoned before the queen for a success rating and a pat on the head.
In order for it to work Amazon and Netflix might have to compromise their flagship shows, but it could all happen. Never let artistic integrity (long gone for both now) get in the way of a genre bending opportunity and reviews that might actually be positive.
I'm only scratching at the surface but here are some ideas: The mad multi cultural Scottish Dwarves (yes they are fucking crazy and not in a good way) might team up with Rebus to solve crimes in an even more gloomy version of Edinburgh's underground crime world than the real one. Also I'm actually insulted by the way these two dimensional dwarves are written and portrayed. Not sure why.
The stiff, stuck up and frankly stupid elves could work as "agents" on Selling Sunset. Elves zipping about in high powered sports cars is something I'd watch. Perhaps their complete absence of body language, fashion style and sense of humour would transform the luxury property market in LA, just maybe not in a good way.
As for Sauron, the clearly psychotic demi-god with multiple childhood issues; a dose of fun and lighter relief in the spectrum of evil is required. Some sunshine, lost souls, cocktails and proper hedonism. I'd transport him back to ancient Greece to team up with Jeff Goldblum's Zeus in Kaos. They'd set the world to rights, no problem.
So what about the dumb-ass, space hopping, clueless Gandalf hanging out with Tom Bombadil? Tom never did make sense in the books but was an interesting enough diversion, now I'm not sure. He comes complete with a bizarre Dorset accent, one set to rival Robert Fripps'. Words fail me, so I'm stopping now.
Putin must be stopped (said no western politician ever). Our flimsy defences are no match for the might of the Soviet forces and the backhanders the Kremlin has given to our illustrious political classes over the years. Who would have thought that 60 years of defence reviews, each one less thought through than the previous one would leave us with weakened and light weight armed forces? Nobody really knows what to do other than wag fingers and be photographed at the right places and then discussed in tedious Guardian articles.
Never mind all that, the military are on exercises this week. Scotland is under some imaginary siege. Grey/green convoys are out on the roads upsetting the traffic watchers. Greggs are doing record business as the September sunshine continues whilst the squaddies vape in unison in their break time. There are warnings and signs (?), paranoia and headlines and we have low flying helicopters buzzing our town. Well not very low but very loud when flying over us. Our normally stable cats don't like these pesky machines, understandably. They fill the sky over the garden with their engine noise and the cats scatter, headed into the relative safety of the house. They dislike them even more than vacuum cleaners, their other mechanical nemesis. Won't somebody think of the felines?
These photos are not really of Aberdour but more taken from Aberdour on a very calm, balmy September afternoon. A day of Indian summer weather. In the distance there is Inchcolm, an island in the Forth complete with ruined abbey and various abandoned fortifications. St Columba never did visit but stray angels can be seen there every Halloween. Below is a zoomed in shot.
The afternoon is spent lazily wandering along in the sun, kicking the dust and making up band names up whilst discussing the physical ailments of the over 60s. We're filled up full with heavy but tasty sandwiches, along with soup and salad from a local bistro . (Never liked the word bistro but it is what it is - a sort of cafe where things are slightly more expensive and a little bit nicer but the service is worse).
