Yes, it's only two days to go until That Triathlon Thing. I forced myself to put in five miles of in the dark running, well I don't want to be completely goosed by Sunday. I was feeling quite sickly the other day after swallowing a fair bit of the leisure pool which seems to upset the PH of one's stomach. Nevertheless tomorrow morning will be the last chance to get the hang of breathing in air instead of the pool chemicals...
I had to break the news to Mrs C. about her living room; that I wouldn't be back till Tuesday on account of visiting Mother. I mentioned about T.T.T. and she said her boss does them. Straightaway I got a mental picture of some suited, competitive, middle-aged bloke that takes himself far too seriously.
As another Psychological Experiment, it will be interesting to see if this is the typical Triathelete? An opportunity to check automatic negative prediction stemming from basic anxiety against reality.
Answer on Sunday.
Other negatives:
I'll be late arriving,
Swallow half the pool and have to stop,
Can't find my bicycle,
Fall off bicycle,
Miss road junction and get lost,
Have coronary thrombosis running up hill,
Have to stop three times for a pee,
Thrashed by OAP's...
30th August. Chicken Marijuana.
I was sitting outside the other day having a cup of tea with the gammie-legged pigeons. It was then I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, something unusual...
I exclaimed to Isabelle "What's that huge Cannabis plant growing there in front of the hen house?!"
"What Cannabis plant?"
I pointed out the bright green familiar shaped leaves. "If it looks like Cannabis and it smells like Cannabis, it must be....?"
It's not clear whose diet here includes hemp seed but it's psychoactive properties could well be marginal. But I see, for purely decorative reasons, "the plant" has been moved to a more prominent border. The Chief Constable up the road might have something to say about that?
This morning Isabelle remarked that the two new chicks, which are moved around the lawn with their mother hen, were running short of grass. Grass?
This suggested an experiment: feeding the dope plant to them, then checking for any signs of reefer madness...
Err... well, maybe not?
I exclaimed to Isabelle "What's that huge Cannabis plant growing there in front of the hen house?!"
"What Cannabis plant?"
I pointed out the bright green familiar shaped leaves. "If it looks like Cannabis and it smells like Cannabis, it must be....?"
It's not clear whose diet here includes hemp seed but it's psychoactive properties could well be marginal. But I see, for purely decorative reasons, "the plant" has been moved to a more prominent border. The Chief Constable up the road might have something to say about that?
This morning Isabelle remarked that the two new chicks, which are moved around the lawn with their mother hen, were running short of grass. Grass?
This suggested an experiment: feeding the dope plant to them, then checking for any signs of reefer madness...
Err... well, maybe not?
29th August. A Graduate Job Offer at S.H.I.T.
Sewage is a growth industry, so young Mr F the Civil Engineer tells me, what with all the current EC regs. In fact the company have trouble recruiting anyone other than foreign students. "School leavers nowadays, they just want to do Media Studies" said Mr F.
"I've got a degree in Engineering" I revealed.
"We could give you a job then!"
"What sort of things do you do there?"
'It's mainly computer modelling the flow of ..."
"Waterborne human excrement?"
"Yes."
"It's all just Windows based, easy enough, quite fun really. so long as you're used to thinking in 3D you'd be alright."
"Well the thing is, to let you understand, when I left College "THE Computer" filled an entire room, and you had to wait two days to get your program results back on punched tape...'
"I've got a degree in Engineering" I revealed.
"We could give you a job then!"
"What sort of things do you do there?"
'It's mainly computer modelling the flow of ..."
"Waterborne human excrement?"
"Yes."
"It's all just Windows based, easy enough, quite fun really. so long as you're used to thinking in 3D you'd be alright."
"Well the thing is, to let you understand, when I left College "THE Computer" filled an entire room, and you had to wait two days to get your program results back on punched tape...'
28th August. When I forgot My Sandwiches.
I was so hungry on the way back today I had to stop at The Horn Milk Bar. As any student of post war British history will be aware, milk bars had to originate in a period prior to Anthony Burgess's A Clockwork Orange. Otherwise we couldn't have had the sinister context of the Korova Milk Bar where the delinquent Alex and his mates gathered to consume milk laced with narcotics.
Its interesting to note that when they drew up the plans for the Horn Milk Bar, the future of interior decor that lay in store for us was pretty much wall to wall melamine, with a lot of vinyl. Step into The Horn and the detail has been preserved to such a fine degree that its surprising to find that the prices aren't still pre-decimal.
Its interesting to note that when they drew up the plans for the Horn Milk Bar, the future of interior decor that lay in store for us was pretty much wall to wall melamine, with a lot of vinyl. Step into The Horn and the detail has been preserved to such a fine degree that its surprising to find that the prices aren't still pre-decimal.
27th August. Dave's Virtual Bike Run.
Dave probably organised the whole thing from the comfort of the Craigton Coach Inn; it was his idea anyway. However a 9am call from Charlie's mobile revealed that Dave was "in the shower" whilst we were sat 25 miles away in what remains of Coupar Angus town centre. As it turned out Dave could be neither legally nor morally sanctioned to be in control of a powerful motor-cycle on public roads probably until Monday morning.
Maybe this was no bad thing as Dave's faith in tyre adhesion to wet tarmac is a far more strongly held conviction than my own personal belief. The usual result is that I spend most of the time getting left behind all anxious and squinting through a visor covered in water droplets, worrying about every irregularity in the road, this is known as RSP (Road Surface Paranoia).
Charlie got the map out at The Spittal of Glenshee but since neither of us had any glasses and the lighting was fairly low key, choosing a route was mainly guesswork. The roads stayed wet for a while so I tried to picture both wheels riding on rails to boost confidence but instead kept imagining deer jumping out from the trees straight in front...
In the end the scariest moment was after I'd called in at the local shop for bread. Heading back round a left hand bend I brushed away a wasp which seemed to be held by wind pressure on my visor. When it didn't move I realised the wasp was held captive inside the helmet. At that point, halfway round a bend, I do admit to a slight feeling of panic; luckily flipping up the visor released the errant insect before it worked itself up into a stinging frenzy.
Maybe this was no bad thing as Dave's faith in tyre adhesion to wet tarmac is a far more strongly held conviction than my own personal belief. The usual result is that I spend most of the time getting left behind all anxious and squinting through a visor covered in water droplets, worrying about every irregularity in the road, this is known as RSP (Road Surface Paranoia).
Charlie got the map out at The Spittal of Glenshee but since neither of us had any glasses and the lighting was fairly low key, choosing a route was mainly guesswork. The roads stayed wet for a while so I tried to picture both wheels riding on rails to boost confidence but instead kept imagining deer jumping out from the trees straight in front...
In the end the scariest moment was after I'd called in at the local shop for bread. Heading back round a left hand bend I brushed away a wasp which seemed to be held by wind pressure on my visor. When it didn't move I realised the wasp was held captive inside the helmet. At that point, halfway round a bend, I do admit to a slight feeling of panic; luckily flipping up the visor released the errant insect before it worked itself up into a stinging frenzy.
26th August. O Lucky Bird.
"I think we've struck it lucky with those two chicks" said Isabelle in the car this morning. By that she meant that they both look as if they're going to turn into hens rather than cockerels. This is the same probability as two coins both coming down heads.
He doesn't know it yet but young 'Puffson", the masturbating chicken, has also come up trumps. These two young and impressionable hens are likely to accord Puffson the due respect that to date has been denied by the other three hens...
The masturbating chicken routinely practises a form of frottaging by getting up close to a hen then taking out his frustrations in a form of auto-eroticism on any convenient patch of nearby lawn. The coming out of these chicken debutantes in the poultry social world is certainly timely as Puffson's onanism is begining to border on the neurotic...
He doesn't know it yet but young 'Puffson", the masturbating chicken, has also come up trumps. These two young and impressionable hens are likely to accord Puffson the due respect that to date has been denied by the other three hens...
The masturbating chicken routinely practises a form of frottaging by getting up close to a hen then taking out his frustrations in a form of auto-eroticism on any convenient patch of nearby lawn. The coming out of these chicken debutantes in the poultry social world is certainly timely as Puffson's onanism is begining to border on the neurotic...
25th August. Dishwashers and Lear Jets
As far as finances go, it seems to be a general rule that the more you earn the more you spend. Then once you've given in to buying a dishwasher then you NEED a dishwasher, life without a dishwasher is unimaginable. So far I've resisted, but from some points of view, ie Isabelle's, this is simply a case of me being miserable. The result is that I pretend to be a dishwashing machine, at least I don't have to put them away there's no machine that can manage that, this is the current arrangement.
It's actually debateable, if left to my own devices I would have ever thought a computer a necessary encumbrance? Now of course, could you imagine life without one? If I wanted to, for instance, I could produce a spreadsheet about 8 feet wide detailing the minutia of every daily expense, totalled up in 10.000 different ways, whilst listening to 915 personally chosen tracks, randomly sorted.
The other day Ross gave me a cheque signed by Gar', I said I don't remember what the quote was.
"That's ok", he says "I'll just leave it blank"...
"That's quite a level of trust" I replied. Gar', being the owner of two new Bentleys and a Lear Jet, not to mention the private helicopter, all of course indispensible, must be good for several hundred thousand.
It did cross my mind to make the cheque out for £2.3 million and just pay it in at the Royal Bank, then go out and buy a dishwasher, WHAT you haven't got a dishwasher yet?
It's actually debateable, if left to my own devices I would have ever thought a computer a necessary encumbrance? Now of course, could you imagine life without one? If I wanted to, for instance, I could produce a spreadsheet about 8 feet wide detailing the minutia of every daily expense, totalled up in 10.000 different ways, whilst listening to 915 personally chosen tracks, randomly sorted.
The other day Ross gave me a cheque signed by Gar', I said I don't remember what the quote was.
"That's ok", he says "I'll just leave it blank"...
"That's quite a level of trust" I replied. Gar', being the owner of two new Bentleys and a Lear Jet, not to mention the private helicopter, all of course indispensible, must be good for several hundred thousand.
It did cross my mind to make the cheque out for £2.3 million and just pay it in at the Royal Bank, then go out and buy a dishwasher, WHAT you haven't got a dishwasher yet?
24th August. Radio 1 V. Radio 2
The two painters outside, one armed with white gloss the other with green undercoat, had Radio 1 on all day. Radio 1 is supposed to be for "young people" which they undoubtedly are, each possessed of hair on the crown of their heads, and a humour rich in impenetrable nuances. They may as well be speaking Spanish.
Inside, Radio 2 blares, in between bouts of static from various power tools. Radio 2 appeals more to the balding tradesperson, although on closer inspection is basically Radio 1 as it was about 25 years ago, the only difference being that news bulletins about GCSE results and the like have been replaced with trafffic congestion reports.
In the afternoon i was able to experience an unusual stereo effect on account of the painters radio being next to a curved glass sash window, that someone during a momentary lapse has managed to put a hole through.
At the end of the day I would say on balance that as far as inane drivel goes Radio 1 came out a clear winner.
Inside, Radio 2 blares, in between bouts of static from various power tools. Radio 2 appeals more to the balding tradesperson, although on closer inspection is basically Radio 1 as it was about 25 years ago, the only difference being that news bulletins about GCSE results and the like have been replaced with trafffic congestion reports.
In the afternoon i was able to experience an unusual stereo effect on account of the painters radio being next to a curved glass sash window, that someone during a momentary lapse has managed to put a hole through.
At the end of the day I would say on balance that as far as inane drivel goes Radio 1 came out a clear winner.
23rd August. Life in The Fast Lane
An early morning trip to the Leisure Pool saw me determindly front crawling up and down the "fast" lane. Finally the 16 length barrier fell in 13 minutes which probably puts me neck and neck with any veteran triathelete entrants.
It's a very different world in the pool at 7:30am, no kids, just people with very ordered existences. The sort of women who probably "don't have time for a relationship", plus a few "active" 60 is the new 40 or whatever. To be honest I felt a bit out of place climbing back into the Daihatsu with a trailer load of rubble.
Still it does make you feel good I mused, stopping off at the nearest burger van outside National Tyre Service for a bacon roll, and still managing to arrive earlier than normal at Mrs F's, to get some more rubble. Do you know it's now illegal to transport rubble without a rubble licence? And the rubble police could be watching anywhere with CCTV. What tax will they think of next?
Mind you by the time I had to trawl all the way up to Pitlochry to look at yet another problem chimney, I decided to hurriedly put the rest of the Suzuki together because travelling at a high speed on two wheels would paradoxically be considerably safer...
The reason for this is, it's a lot easier to fall asleep at the wheel than to fall asleep at the handlebars.
It's a very different world in the pool at 7:30am, no kids, just people with very ordered existences. The sort of women who probably "don't have time for a relationship", plus a few "active" 60 is the new 40 or whatever. To be honest I felt a bit out of place climbing back into the Daihatsu with a trailer load of rubble.
Still it does make you feel good I mused, stopping off at the nearest burger van outside National Tyre Service for a bacon roll, and still managing to arrive earlier than normal at Mrs F's, to get some more rubble. Do you know it's now illegal to transport rubble without a rubble licence? And the rubble police could be watching anywhere with CCTV. What tax will they think of next?
Mind you by the time I had to trawl all the way up to Pitlochry to look at yet another problem chimney, I decided to hurriedly put the rest of the Suzuki together because travelling at a high speed on two wheels would paradoxically be considerably safer...
The reason for this is, it's a lot easier to fall asleep at the wheel than to fall asleep at the handlebars.
22nd August. I am Number 20
Received a sheaf of bumff today headed with block letters IMPORTANT INFORMATION PLEASE READ CAREFULLY. The pages contained detailed information about how to go through the ordeal of this Triathlon thing, including where the toilets are, which could be one of my major concerns, at that time of the morning, because I like to keep myself regular...
Then there are still anxieties about swimming the distance front crawl without swallowing half the pool, or even swimming the distance, and then what? do you cycle 25 k's in your bathers or strip off in front of the public? Sometimes we just have to accept uncertainties and admit that we don't know what will happen.
Actually I was once in another race but I think I dropped my egg. That was during the inter-school sports day between the villages of Kingsley. Norley and Crowton in about 1967. It makes you wonder why they have school sports days? Is it just to discourage entry into any further competitions?
Then there are still anxieties about swimming the distance front crawl without swallowing half the pool, or even swimming the distance, and then what? do you cycle 25 k's in your bathers or strip off in front of the public? Sometimes we just have to accept uncertainties and admit that we don't know what will happen.
Actually I was once in another race but I think I dropped my egg. That was during the inter-school sports day between the villages of Kingsley. Norley and Crowton in about 1967. It makes you wonder why they have school sports days? Is it just to discourage entry into any further competitions?
21st August. The Grey Arrows
The recent absence from home meant that the two gammie-legged pigeons were due to perform a fly past. Once their natural predators, ie domestic cats had been lured inside by the sound of "Whiskas" being dished up (probably Pigeon flavoured), the evenings spectacle could begin.
These birds specialise in formation flying, high above the Lime trees and as far as Mrs Pattersons roof, but generally circling around what they now consider home. Their walking disabilities which greatly affect survival on the pavement outside Woolworths makes little difference to their airborne manouvres.
Perching is obviously problematic so they head for the roof of the hen house rather than the clothes line. Donnie the longest resident is keen to get settled down in the hen house itself, whereas Whistle continues to fly around until its almost dark.
In common with other birds other than owls they can't see a damn thing at night so are easily grabbed and returned to captivity before falling victim to something with superior vision.
Donnie in particular has little real idea of the cats daytime interest from the other side of the chicken wire, and would be "easy meat", as they say.
These birds specialise in formation flying, high above the Lime trees and as far as Mrs Pattersons roof, but generally circling around what they now consider home. Their walking disabilities which greatly affect survival on the pavement outside Woolworths makes little difference to their airborne manouvres.
Perching is obviously problematic so they head for the roof of the hen house rather than the clothes line. Donnie the longest resident is keen to get settled down in the hen house itself, whereas Whistle continues to fly around until its almost dark.
In common with other birds other than owls they can't see a damn thing at night so are easily grabbed and returned to captivity before falling victim to something with superior vision.
Donnie in particular has little real idea of the cats daytime interest from the other side of the chicken wire, and would be "easy meat", as they say.
20th August. Ascent of Slioch
If one is prepared to remove ones trousers one can steal a march on other walkers following various guide books to the letter. Personally I refer to the SMC Guide Book to the Northern Highlands published 1936, price 7/6. But anyway rowing across Loch Maree proved unecessary and ill advised because Mrs B's father's boat was a little on the large side as far as manhandling goes. Hence the wading across the river solution. Low cloud and mist meant that there was some doubt as to whether or not the summit was the summit, when eventually arrived at or not. Thankfully I'd remembered to bring my glasses with me (Tesco £5.97) and was able to read the map which showed that there should be a triangulation point where there was just a pile of stones. These so called trig points date back to an era of surveying by men in tweeds carrying instruments to the top of mountains, now its all done by spy satellites and presumably computer geeks.
How long will it be before they bring out THE LARGE PRINT VERSION OF THE 1:50000 ORDNANCE SURVEY OF GREAT BRITAIN? There must be a growing market what with an ageing but leisure rich population with varying levels of macular degeneration. Maybe they do a large print GPS the size of a laptop?
How long will it be before they bring out THE LARGE PRINT VERSION OF THE 1:50000 ORDNANCE SURVEY OF GREAT BRITAIN? There must be a growing market what with an ageing but leisure rich population with varying levels of macular degeneration. Maybe they do a large print GPS the size of a laptop?
19th August. Kodak Moments
The digital photo revolution thus far has been, in my opinion, a somewhat mixed blessing. It's true, like everyone says, that picture quality can be more rigorously controlled at source due to immediate viewing and the ease of "taking another one".
However this is where we run into the real bug-bear...
Isabelle eschews storage on CD as "not being the same" and as a consequence brought some photos with her to be "put in order". These relate to her sister's wedding in Mexico, with a resultant 1600 prints in about 8 albums. Since we were only there two weeks, this charts not just daily events but perhaps hourly... Although the actual ceremony itself is probably minute by minute or moment by moment...
However this is where we run into the real bug-bear...
Isabelle eschews storage on CD as "not being the same" and as a consequence brought some photos with her to be "put in order". These relate to her sister's wedding in Mexico, with a resultant 1600 prints in about 8 albums. Since we were only there two weeks, this charts not just daily events but perhaps hourly... Although the actual ceremony itself is probably minute by minute or moment by moment...
18th August. Jimmy Rock-Eye
It's a long way to go for a bag of cement from this present location. To be precise a round trip of precisely 127 miles. I can be this exact because I'd neglected to bring a bag of it and there was some other example of bad planning or project management that had to be rectified. It would be the same mileage if you wanted to see The Da Vinci Code. Imagine the fury of driving all that way then having to sit through that pap? I would have needed several in depth reviews of Pirates of The Caribbean before risking the same journey, in fact I'd probably have had to read a book about it. But as recompense you can always combine it with Tesco because thats about the same distance too, give or take a couple of miles.
So this evening we drove up the road a short distance to the viewpoint to watch the sunset over the Isle of Lewis on the horizon and it all seemed so vast and unchanging compared to one insignificant human life. This remoteness is definitely a draw for many people... Isabelle said that Jimmy Rock-Eye has a house around here somewhere and turns up at the hotel bar on occasion with two large dogs in tow.
"Jimmy Rock-Eye? Who on earth's Jimmy Rock-Eye?"
"Well he's in the music business"
"You mean Jamiroquai?"...
So this evening we drove up the road a short distance to the viewpoint to watch the sunset over the Isle of Lewis on the horizon and it all seemed so vast and unchanging compared to one insignificant human life. This remoteness is definitely a draw for many people... Isabelle said that Jimmy Rock-Eye has a house around here somewhere and turns up at the hotel bar on occasion with two large dogs in tow.
"Jimmy Rock-Eye? Who on earth's Jimmy Rock-Eye?"
"Well he's in the music business"
"You mean Jamiroquai?"...
17th August. £30,000 Kitchen ambitions.
Directly through the kitchen window here there is a clear view, despite a fine scots smirr, of the imposing bulk of Beinn Alligan... Achhhh but this is tedious talking about what you did when you were sixteen, it was just that recently I've come to the conclusion that ambitions seem to be more or less formulated by that age. So now instead of thinking there's nothing I want to do, casting ones mind back can dredge up items for the GLTU (Great List of Things Undone).
Lets talk about something else, Mrs B our host is big on cooking, Isabelle is concerned not about Mrs B's cooking, more about the effects of eating it. And an interesting fact about the kitchen here, is that despite being a world renowned author of numerous books on cooking Mrs B. doesn't possess a £15,000 kitchen herself.
I would say that as a general rule, from wide experience of house interiors, that the more expensive the kitchen the less it will be used for any cooking.
Lets talk about something else, Mrs B our host is big on cooking, Isabelle is concerned not about Mrs B's cooking, more about the effects of eating it. And an interesting fact about the kitchen here, is that despite being a world renowned author of numerous books on cooking Mrs B. doesn't possess a £15,000 kitchen herself.
I would say that as a general rule, from wide experience of house interiors, that the more expensive the kitchen the less it will be used for any cooking.
16th August. Meet The Midges
I should really have offered to help with the washing up here at our hosts in the far north. However it wasn't long before Paul, who was helpfully dealing with the plates, remarked that midges were coming in through the kitchen window. Once he'd closed it and sat down again he further announced, whilst going through the familiar scratching and rubbing motion, that he'd had about 4 or 5 bites already. Paul, despite possessing a bona-fide Celtic ancestory, seems to present some sort of gourmet experience for the ubiquitous west highland insect. For myself, I am aware of them drifting over to examine the screen of our hosts laptop, but my flesh doesn't seem to have the same magnetism... If you are curious as to the size of a midge, then its about as big as this; .
15th August. A Short Break with Midges.
Heading North to the wilds for several days with everything you need to have a fun time with Midges.*
Namely one Charnwood Cove 2. stove, sectional lengths of chimney and a complete set of tools. Almost a holiday apart from fitting the stove.
I had to break the news to Mrs F. the current ongoing customer, this evening, that their dust covered living room would have to be left in disarray until next Monday.
She was understanding enough and asked me if I had any plans to go up any hills while I was there. Yes, I was hoping to row across Loch Maree to shorten the trudge up Slioch, a fairly remote locale by British standards.
At that she looked a bit wistful and said that she'd got lost on the way up it with Mr. F. though that was a while ago, before The Kids. Given that the middle one had his first day at school today it'll be some time before Mr & Mrs F. will be taking off together to go hillwalking in the North west highlands. Yes siree! we do have to live with the choices we've made, like chimneys and stove installation for a living..
* What are Midges? (pro. midgeez)
Found mainly in the north and west of Scotland, these are one of several species of tiny flies that have a great fondness for alighting on human skin, They also tend to bite but some people are more palatable to them than others. If exposed to them for any length of time individuals often exhibit symptoms akin to mental breakdown.
Namely one Charnwood Cove 2. stove, sectional lengths of chimney and a complete set of tools. Almost a holiday apart from fitting the stove.
I had to break the news to Mrs F. the current ongoing customer, this evening, that their dust covered living room would have to be left in disarray until next Monday.
She was understanding enough and asked me if I had any plans to go up any hills while I was there. Yes, I was hoping to row across Loch Maree to shorten the trudge up Slioch, a fairly remote locale by British standards.
At that she looked a bit wistful and said that she'd got lost on the way up it with Mr. F. though that was a while ago, before The Kids. Given that the middle one had his first day at school today it'll be some time before Mr & Mrs F. will be taking off together to go hillwalking in the North west highlands. Yes siree! we do have to live with the choices we've made, like chimneys and stove installation for a living..
* What are Midges? (pro. midgeez)
Found mainly in the north and west of Scotland, these are one of several species of tiny flies that have a great fondness for alighting on human skin, They also tend to bite but some people are more palatable to them than others. If exposed to them for any length of time individuals often exhibit symptoms akin to mental breakdown.
14th August. Pirates of the Caribbean
I didn't deliberately try to go to sleep during the movie unlike the Da Vinci Code. However I still managed to lose conciousness while the main characters were being chased by the pygmies or was it chased by the crew of the Flying Dutchman?
Either way I think this made the movie seem longer because when I woke up they were still being chased by something very similar. To be honest I think they overplayed the giant squid, but my gripe isn't against the computer generated visuals, which would certainly have freaked me out as a young person.
It was the computer generated plot that gave me the most trouble. What happened was; they sent a comprehensive summary of western seafaring myths to a Taiwanese software engineer who was under strict contract to utilise every aspect detailed. The resultant plot written in Mandarin was then translated into English using the Babelfish program... Perhaps this explains why the dog didn't survive, a real Hollywood anomaly .
Either way I think this made the movie seem longer because when I woke up they were still being chased by something very similar. To be honest I think they overplayed the giant squid, but my gripe isn't against the computer generated visuals, which would certainly have freaked me out as a young person.
It was the computer generated plot that gave me the most trouble. What happened was; they sent a comprehensive summary of western seafaring myths to a Taiwanese software engineer who was under strict contract to utilise every aspect detailed. The resultant plot written in Mandarin was then translated into English using the Babelfish program... Perhaps this explains why the dog didn't survive, a real Hollywood anomaly .
13th August. Psychological Experiment 1a (continued) Results.
PART 2.
Here we are back at the camping ground kindly provided by a former customer from Chimney World in the environs of Glamis. We are now able to evaluate the predictions of Part 1.
Overall, looking around at the other members of the audience I wouldn't say that I enjoyed the event any more or less than anyone else. Therefore with the application of logic the score has to be a lot more than 5.3%.
Naturally, despite any pretension towards higher culture, the event is still an excuse for excessive consumption of alcohol. So, after a couple of pints of Old Remedial I was able to appreciate the 2nd movement of Greigs Piano Concerto to a greater depth. Wiping a tear away I had to confess that I was actually enjoying it.
The fact is the orchestra has to try and please everyone, there would be members of the audience who found Greig too heavy and preferred the earlier rendition of a Strauss waltz.
Then the Mars and Jupiter suites from Holst were quite good, sing a long in fact with good fireworks all choreographed at huge expense. Followed by a finale with a piper and yet more fireworks. So despite a cold hypothermic wind which brought on a touch of Vibration White Finger it was still enjoyable. The final percentage works out at about 68.45%.
Conclusions.
Its obvious that my thinking about future events is dramatically skewed towards the negative. This is wholly unrealistic as shown by Psychological Experiment 1a.
Therefore there is scope for considerable readjustment.
Here we are back at the camping ground kindly provided by a former customer from Chimney World in the environs of Glamis. We are now able to evaluate the predictions of Part 1.
Overall, looking around at the other members of the audience I wouldn't say that I enjoyed the event any more or less than anyone else. Therefore with the application of logic the score has to be a lot more than 5.3%.
Naturally, despite any pretension towards higher culture, the event is still an excuse for excessive consumption of alcohol. So, after a couple of pints of Old Remedial I was able to appreciate the 2nd movement of Greigs Piano Concerto to a greater depth. Wiping a tear away I had to confess that I was actually enjoying it.
The fact is the orchestra has to try and please everyone, there would be members of the audience who found Greig too heavy and preferred the earlier rendition of a Strauss waltz.
Then the Mars and Jupiter suites from Holst were quite good, sing a long in fact with good fireworks all choreographed at huge expense. Followed by a finale with a piper and yet more fireworks. So despite a cold hypothermic wind which brought on a touch of Vibration White Finger it was still enjoyable. The final percentage works out at about 68.45%.
Conclusions.
Its obvious that my thinking about future events is dramatically skewed towards the negative. This is wholly unrealistic as shown by Psychological Experiment 1a.
Therefore there is scope for considerable readjustment.
12th August. Psychological Experiment 1a.
PART 1.
This evening we are scheduled to attend the Glamis Castle Prom. This is one of those popular outside classical music extravaganzas showcasing the talents of various solo artistes. It's not the sort of event with a mosh pit, or indeed any kind of dancing because its not the kind of music you can dance to.
Normally the orchestra is at a great distance from one's seat and the music is relayed by a series of speakers dotted around the grounds. Talking is frowned upon. The format is to take in strawberries and champagne rather than say Tennents Super Strength lager and crisps. So you sit there on your own seats, which have to be carted miles across grassland, listening to something that may as well be coming out of a cd player, while it gets progressively darker and perhaps wetter, surrounded by people who just want to be able to say "oh yes, we were at the prom this year, marvellous performance by -----". They can't exactly say they were bored stiff because they all paid £15 a head for the priviledge.
These are thoughts based on my feelings of how things are going to turn out. I consider these to be hard facts about the Glamis Prom rather than speculation or hypothesese. These thoughts stem from a basic anxiety about any future event involving me, not just something involving outdoor classical music. These thoughts can be summarised thus: "Whatever it is, it'll be rubbish".
Therefore I can confidently predict a 98% probability of achieving an enjoyment level of 5.3% of The Glamis Prom 2006.
Tomorrow in PART 2. of Psychological Experiment 1a. We will review the results from the actual event with the above prediction. This will clarify the accuracy/inaccuracy of my current thinking upon which underlying attitudes to the future are based. Is there any scope for change?
This evening we are scheduled to attend the Glamis Castle Prom. This is one of those popular outside classical music extravaganzas showcasing the talents of various solo artistes. It's not the sort of event with a mosh pit, or indeed any kind of dancing because its not the kind of music you can dance to.
Normally the orchestra is at a great distance from one's seat and the music is relayed by a series of speakers dotted around the grounds. Talking is frowned upon. The format is to take in strawberries and champagne rather than say Tennents Super Strength lager and crisps. So you sit there on your own seats, which have to be carted miles across grassland, listening to something that may as well be coming out of a cd player, while it gets progressively darker and perhaps wetter, surrounded by people who just want to be able to say "oh yes, we were at the prom this year, marvellous performance by -----". They can't exactly say they were bored stiff because they all paid £15 a head for the priviledge.
These are thoughts based on my feelings of how things are going to turn out. I consider these to be hard facts about the Glamis Prom rather than speculation or hypothesese. These thoughts stem from a basic anxiety about any future event involving me, not just something involving outdoor classical music. These thoughts can be summarised thus: "Whatever it is, it'll be rubbish".
Therefore I can confidently predict a 98% probability of achieving an enjoyment level of 5.3% of The Glamis Prom 2006.
Tomorrow in PART 2. of Psychological Experiment 1a. We will review the results from the actual event with the above prediction. This will clarify the accuracy/inaccuracy of my current thinking upon which underlying attitudes to the future are based. Is there any scope for change?
11th August Shrek Green
When you get to the foot of any part of the climbing wall you just pick the colour of holds you think you can climb up, pink with white spots, shrek green etc. These are graded by degree of difficulty. This week I was paired up with some guy about half my age. Naturally he was keen to push the envelope, himself and me. After one or two routes the pace began to tell on the arms. It wasn't long before I'd lost contact with the wall itself, literally come unstuck.This is because at some point, willing the fingers to grip no longer has any effect. So there one is hanging in space, which is a lot better than succumbing to the effects of gravitational attraction.
Having reached one's Present Personal Limit anything easier seems pointless and anything harder is obviously impossible. There's nothing else to do but struggle and suffer at the clearly defined edge of possible/impossible. This is what I suppose is described as Sporting.
Maybe the rest of life seems equally pointless unless its almost impossible? Is it, reach exceeds grasp? Well It can't be grasp exceeds reach, everything would be a doddle then.
Having reached one's Present Personal Limit anything easier seems pointless and anything harder is obviously impossible. There's nothing else to do but struggle and suffer at the clearly defined edge of possible/impossible. This is what I suppose is described as Sporting.
Maybe the rest of life seems equally pointless unless its almost impossible? Is it, reach exceeds grasp? Well It can't be grasp exceeds reach, everything would be a doddle then.
10th August A Good Clean Kill ?
There's no going back now, because I've placed an order with the shoot to order man, a shadowy figure in the world of culling. A creature going about its daily routine has its days numbered now. There's no more emotion involved than if a similar request had been made of a hit man to take out an undesirable political figure. No more emotion than pressing a button and a whole city dies. Of course the main difference is not having to eat the politcian.
One can only hope that the weather shines favourably on the eventual outdoor cooking process, which will necessarily be long-winded, and so much later in the season, tch, tch... This will involve marinating, boiling, roasting, and some other procedure as yet undecided, it's possible one has bitten off more than one can chew this time?
One can only hope that the weather shines favourably on the eventual outdoor cooking process, which will necessarily be long-winded, and so much later in the season, tch, tch... This will involve marinating, boiling, roasting, and some other procedure as yet undecided, it's possible one has bitten off more than one can chew this time?
9th August Darwin 1. Sentiment 0.
Despite all the care and attention the smaller than average chick called "Pip" didn't make it, which was a sad turn. His legacy is a 25 kg sack of baby chick feed, which was the smallest they had at "Country Corner". The remaining two Darwinian style surviving chicks are busy eating their way through this gritty looking concoction. However this pair look to a real hen rather than Isabelle for their security, so it's not quite the same.
8th August Old Rubber Legs
I've maybe got more time than i initially thought. That is, more time to complete the Great List of Things Undone. I came to this conclusion after meeting Des (63), who was out there in Switzerland on a more serious bout of Alpinism than a mere introduction like myself. Then there was Brian (65), still able to get up the Matterhorn...
Of course the next thing on the GLTU is the Triathlon entry. I see my name has appeared on the list, so that's that. For the uninitiated its a simple race of swim/bike/then run. So I managed to extricate the bicycle from the tangle of deck chairs and garden implements, blew up the tyres, then set off with the intention of practising the transition from cycling to running. Riding eight miles in a determined fashion was quite a drain in itself. I was glad to get off the saddle, quite frankly. A bit of running to follow would make a nice change... I took a few gulps of water from the outside tap as preparation, but I wasn't quite prepared for the fact that my legs would start behaving as if they were made of rubber...
I ran about half a mile and ended up with a "stitch", whatever a stitch is? Then turned back, and I still haven't mastered swimming the required distance either yet...
Of course the next thing on the GLTU is the Triathlon entry. I see my name has appeared on the list, so that's that. For the uninitiated its a simple race of swim/bike/then run. So I managed to extricate the bicycle from the tangle of deck chairs and garden implements, blew up the tyres, then set off with the intention of practising the transition from cycling to running. Riding eight miles in a determined fashion was quite a drain in itself. I was glad to get off the saddle, quite frankly. A bit of running to follow would make a nice change... I took a few gulps of water from the outside tap as preparation, but I wasn't quite prepared for the fact that my legs would start behaving as if they were made of rubber...
I ran about half a mile and ended up with a "stitch", whatever a stitch is? Then turned back, and I still haven't mastered swimming the required distance either yet...
7th August Chicken in a Fish Tank
I'm not sure why, but today we took possession of another flat. My duties included scrubbing at bath enamel with that much advertised cleaning product, Cillit Bang. "Bang! And the dirt is gone!" or in the case of stained bath enamel "Bang! Bang! Have you got any of those pan scrubber things because nothing's happening." Actually I just like repeating the words Cillit Bang! to myself. Not unlike Billy Crystal's father-in-law in Forget Paris, what was it? "Toyota. You wan it, you got it!".
What was the chicken in a fish tank though? Well, that's just a continuation of the chick from last week which now has to travel around everywhere in this former aquarium. It could be hemi-plegic or just gammie-legged but when we were parked illegally outside The Royal Bank this morning two traffic wardens turned a blind-eye whilst witnessing the complexity of its feeding arrangements.
Even these hardest of the hard (colloquially known as Blue Meanies) were prey to the same sentiment that now grips Isabelle.
A search of web pages to obtain a likely prognosis revealed that an aerosol of Diesel Cold Starter and a screw top jam jar was the easiest solution, as this product is composed mainly of Ether.
Needless to say this was rejected out of hand, and the chicken aquarium now resides on the opposite side of the bed from the goldfish tank (monsters of the deep)...
What was the chicken in a fish tank though? Well, that's just a continuation of the chick from last week which now has to travel around everywhere in this former aquarium. It could be hemi-plegic or just gammie-legged but when we were parked illegally outside The Royal Bank this morning two traffic wardens turned a blind-eye whilst witnessing the complexity of its feeding arrangements.
Even these hardest of the hard (colloquially known as Blue Meanies) were prey to the same sentiment that now grips Isabelle.
A search of web pages to obtain a likely prognosis revealed that an aerosol of Diesel Cold Starter and a screw top jam jar was the easiest solution, as this product is composed mainly of Ether.
Needless to say this was rejected out of hand, and the chicken aquarium now resides on the opposite side of the bed from the goldfish tank (monsters of the deep)...
6th August Service Not Included
Traipsed around the old part of Sion last night looking for somewhere other than McDonalds to eat. I sat down at an unpretentious looking pavement cafe and was attended by a chap from an adjacent table.
"Un Spaghetti Bolognaise?"
"Oui, and something to drink Monsieur?"
"Une biere s'il-vous-plait."
The man disappeared inside and shortly after a rather stumpy woman came out with a beer and a bill for three francs.
Service in Switzerland has been a little on the relaxed side but anyway my train wasn't until tomorrow morning... I watched the passers-by, as one does, and the nearby Cathedral clock struck the hour, the quarter hour, then the half hour? I thought this Spaghetti should be worth the wait though, as the place seemed unfrequented by the usual tourists.
The chap that served me brought out bottles of red wine, fresh bread and a platter of Parma ham, but all to the table he was sitting at. I gazed at the faces around the table and was strongly reminded of various portrayals of Mafiosa type families.
A chill breeze marked the end of the day and the clock chimed another quarter of an hour. I considered doing a bit of window shopping over the way.
Instead the same chap caught my eye and grunted "Une autre biere Monsieur?"
"Non merci"
I took the opportunity to enquire about my order. "Ou est mon Spaghetti?"
"Je ne comprend pas."
"Bolognaise! SPAGHETTI!"
The man shrugged and made some joke with the rest of the table. I reluctantly handed over a five franc piece for the beer "Avez-vous du change!?"
Somehow I inexplicably ended up with about seventeen francs instead of two.
My only explanation is, they must have thought I was Polish and wanted to show their disdain for anyone from the former Eastern block...
"Un Spaghetti Bolognaise?"
"Oui, and something to drink Monsieur?"
"Une biere s'il-vous-plait."
The man disappeared inside and shortly after a rather stumpy woman came out with a beer and a bill for three francs.
Service in Switzerland has been a little on the relaxed side but anyway my train wasn't until tomorrow morning... I watched the passers-by, as one does, and the nearby Cathedral clock struck the hour, the quarter hour, then the half hour? I thought this Spaghetti should be worth the wait though, as the place seemed unfrequented by the usual tourists.
The chap that served me brought out bottles of red wine, fresh bread and a platter of Parma ham, but all to the table he was sitting at. I gazed at the faces around the table and was strongly reminded of various portrayals of Mafiosa type families.
A chill breeze marked the end of the day and the clock chimed another quarter of an hour. I considered doing a bit of window shopping over the way.
Instead the same chap caught my eye and grunted "Une autre biere Monsieur?"
"Non merci"
I took the opportunity to enquire about my order. "Ou est mon Spaghetti?"
"Je ne comprend pas."
"Bolognaise! SPAGHETTI!"
The man shrugged and made some joke with the rest of the table. I reluctantly handed over a five franc piece for the beer "Avez-vous du change!?"
Somehow I inexplicably ended up with about seventeen francs instead of two.
My only explanation is, they must have thought I was Polish and wanted to show their disdain for anyone from the former Eastern block...
5th August An Extra Day Hungover
Everyone else has gone home today, so things are rather flat, especially after spending a fortune at last nights Irish Celtic Swiss Scottish Guinness Outdoor Music Festival...
To start with, it wasn't easy drinking rounds of cold stout in the pouring rain, even with a Gortex jacket. But by the time the main Folk-Rock ensemble came on, higher functioning had diminished sufficiently for everyone to judge the evening to be a great success.
My main memory is of becoming wildly disoriented at some stage of the dancing and finding myself flat out on the wet grass, followed by a certain amount of blundering around into Swiss people, before getting back into the swing of things. The whole thing apparently being filmed by a local television crew...
To start with, it wasn't easy drinking rounds of cold stout in the pouring rain, even with a Gortex jacket. But by the time the main Folk-Rock ensemble came on, higher functioning had diminished sufficiently for everyone to judge the evening to be a great success.
My main memory is of becoming wildly disoriented at some stage of the dancing and finding myself flat out on the wet grass, followed by a certain amount of blundering around into Swiss people, before getting back into the swing of things. The whole thing apparently being filmed by a local television crew...
4th August Alpine Confinement 2
Awoke as planned at 4:30 am and dressed hurriedly by the light of a headtorch in the mad rush with all the other inmates. Having negotiated the loft ladder, graded PD+ in sandals, we elbowed our way through rucksacks, ice axes, boots, and Swiss Germans to the front door.
Despite the pitch darkness, it was immediately evident from the horizontal snow and the strength of the gusts of wind that our traverse of the Weissmeis (4016 m) was in doubt.
Dave our guide signalled a not unwelcomed retreat back upstairs to bed for another three to four hours.
Despite the pitch darkness, it was immediately evident from the horizontal snow and the strength of the gusts of wind that our traverse of the Weissmeis (4016 m) was in doubt.
Dave our guide signalled a not unwelcomed retreat back upstairs to bed for another three to four hours.
3rd August Alpine Confinement
This is costing me hundreds of pounds to sit and watch two grown men play around with a length of rope...
"And now, 'The Thomson Knot'."
"And next..."
What about: How long would it take an individual to learn a foreign language when confined in an Alpine hut surrounded only by climbing magazines in German?
"Another drink?"
"Ya eine kleine bier und zwei apfelpunsch, bitte"...
"And now, 'The Thomson Knot'."
"And next..."
What about: How long would it take an individual to learn a foreign language when confined in an Alpine hut surrounded only by climbing magazines in German?
"Another drink?"
"Ya eine kleine bier und zwei apfelpunsch, bitte"...
2nd August Incident with Helicopter
This particular alpine hut is undergoing extension and each timber frame section is airlifted here by helicopter.
Dave our guide mentioned to the foreman that they must be missing one section of the building because we were witness to it drifting down to earth from approximately a thousand feet above. Luckily, this missed a terrace full of fat Swiss Germans sitting at a restaurant half way up the mountain.
This clientele struggle up several hundred metres, eat a 4-course lunch based on fried potatoes, then wend their way back over a series of perilous rope bridges (three persons max weight). The equivalent Brits would have to be parked adjacent to the eatery.
Dave our guide mentioned to the foreman that they must be missing one section of the building because we were witness to it drifting down to earth from approximately a thousand feet above. Luckily, this missed a terrace full of fat Swiss Germans sitting at a restaurant half way up the mountain.
This clientele struggle up several hundred metres, eat a 4-course lunch based on fried potatoes, then wend their way back over a series of perilous rope bridges (three persons max weight). The equivalent Brits would have to be parked adjacent to the eatery.
1st August Into Thin-ish Air
After the long Night of the Sardines (see yesterday), the 4:20am alarm was a welcome relief. However, breakfast consisted of muesli which had the exact appearance and texture of tuna mayonnaise.
By 5 am, we were crossing the glacier with headtorches, under the giant slag heap of Mont Blanc de Cheinon, our objective. Unfortunately this particular Mont Blanc no longer looks white, the way it does in the guide books, due to global warming.
After various trials with ice, rock and numerous taking on and off of crampons, the four of us roped together approached the 3850 meter summit up an endless slope of mushy snow swept by sleet. Due to the thin air and the impossibility of stopping, this gave the closest approximation to pure toil in my experience to date. I didn't want to be the one to say "I can't go on anymore."
By 5 am, we were crossing the glacier with headtorches, under the giant slag heap of Mont Blanc de Cheinon, our objective. Unfortunately this particular Mont Blanc no longer looks white, the way it does in the guide books, due to global warming.
After various trials with ice, rock and numerous taking on and off of crampons, the four of us roped together approached the 3850 meter summit up an endless slope of mushy snow swept by sleet. Due to the thin air and the impossibility of stopping, this gave the closest approximation to pure toil in my experience to date. I didn't want to be the one to say "I can't go on anymore."
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