9C, clear
“Kissing you is like kissing gravel, you look better upside-down.”
…Listening to kristen Hersh
Rosie had a run in the woods. Golden light filtered between tall trunks set against deep blue sky. Rainfall inside the wood was heavy though. Not a cloud beyond.
drawn on phone
12°C grey but no rain
What is there in this house that draws 244 watts? Nothing is switched on as I arrive home. Well, there is a battery charger and the fridge. Where is it all going- the fridge is not even making it’s on noise?
9°C, calm.
03.30, sounds of the city waking filter into my room. A distant train, nearer a car starts and stocks away into the night. But a strange constant leaks through during the rather passages. A higher note that leaks out between, one that pulsates like a cicada but is clearly mechanical.
Maybe later this term I can get my sleeping habits into order. Perhaps bed down later and don’t wake so wide alert at 3.
12C clear.
It was only a tiny slice of time, it was enough for the axe to swing its errant path. The hit only took a thin slice from my thumb. Lucky it wasn’t worse, or unlucky to happen in the first place. That makes me luck-neutral.
A cut from a sharp edge is usually less painful, and less prone to infection. My only grumble is the site of the injury- it’s on the side of my the joint just where I normally apply pressure when changing gear on the commuting bike.
Perhaps change gear like a good fixed-gear rider.
9°C. Quiet.
Early morning, in the share change of sleep. It’s not quite silent- there is a man-made sound. A high pitched modulated note like a spinning metal wheel. Most probably a distant siren, its note wavering and reflecting from buildings on its journey to my ears.
Like so many nights, I probably need a banana & to read for a while.
Goodnight.
English: Emperor Dragonfly (Anax imperator).
28°C, crisp bright sun. CR:30miles
Emperor Dragonfly: strange fluttering near the kitchen sink earlier. Strange because I was sure the tap was off properly, then I saw it. A huge bejewelled pre-historic creature, caught up with its biplane wings on the window sill. Its body was decorated with malachite and metallic patches, then at the head- huge compound eyes. Huge and iridescent, the head had no space for anything else, the eyes were wrapped all round. It seemed wrong that a few pieces of cob-web hung from its tail.
I caught it in a sandwich box, the usual plastic cup was far too small. Within seconds, it was free. A magical encounter.
Cycling: only 30 miles, but I put the hammer down. Even so, I’m not as fit as I used to be- only 16.7 mph average. But still, it was fun & no real hay-fever until the evening. A very fine day.
15°C, rain
Three months of rain would suggest that summer is as good as cancelled this year. All that water has driven the garden wild, it’s a jungle out there. I have some work to do this weekend with the nearest thing I have to a machete.
It’s no normal summer when a little 5″ pot can stay wet without once drying out. Such conditions seem to suit the curious little guys who live in there.
After work each day, I visit their pot to see how they are doing. This picture shows today, they are taking form. Last week they were barely more than the little bits left over when you have rubbed out a pencil mistake. If you waggle your finger in the water they scurry back down to the silty layer that has collected at the bottom.
Starting from the day we break up for summer, the sun has promised it will put in a sustained appearance. I must make sure their little world remains habitable for the charming little dudes. Presumably, they must be larvae for some flying insect. Let’s see this through.
16°C, rain
Three months of rain. The met-office say it’s the Jetstream running unusually far south this summer. Normally it flows north west of Scotland and sends to occasional storm down the northern approaches. This year it’s overhead. For those who don’t know, I ought to explain what this Jetstream is- think of a giant hosepipe in the stratosphere that is gushing water over our little island archipelago.
An image worthy of an animated visualisation don’t you think.
English: Isatis tinctoria, Brassicaceae, Woad,
18°C, CR 64 miles, Sunny & sunburnt
Woad: an interesting plant to try out. A friend dropped off a packet of seeds knowing it was the sort of thing that would appeal to me. She was right. they can’t be planted until the end of summer though. I shalln’t make any dye from it but am just more interested in its history and form.
Per-doiing: fixed the gear cables in the racing bike- now the gear shift is very light. then, on a roll, I decided to fix the freehub. Campag freehubs are not as neat as Shimano. There are three pawls that spring out unrestrained when you take the freehub off the hub. Not a great design – Shimano beat Campag to the patents I am told. One spring is broken in this hub but I did get it back together and ride 64 miles today.
13°C, grey.
Phone rings in the middle of the day- no-one I know & it’s a bank holiday:
“Are you the man of the house?
Me: say again.
Are you the man of the house?
Me: What does that mean?”
To this, she hung up. Man of the house? – I thought that phrase/concept died out in the 1970s. Still scratching my head.
I helped this little chap cross the road today.
Micycle 