Sunday, 3 February 2019

If things can go wrong...

I arrived home on my motorbike from work this morning at about with the temperature a degree or so above absolute zero. 

    It never gets cold in England people say. Including me, a veteran of five arctic winters where minus 70 degrees was not in the least unusual.

    My sensible/selfish wife had gone to bed by that time so after stumbling over one cat and being scratched for my impertinence, while ignoring the sneer of the other other, lounging elegantly over the sofa I set to thawing the blood which had ceased flowing an hour earlier. 

    It's a good job I'm not working today. It was five o'clock before I was warm enough to fall into bed without being punched by an irate, and warm wife who doesn't like being drained of her bodily heat by a freezing husband - she's a bit touchy about that kind of thing.

    If it hasn't gone, I'll be forced to find alternate means of getting into London tomorrow. 

    At least here, all we have to deal with irate traffic wardens and not rampaging elk. Although I did see a giant woman (I think) affixing a ticket to the screen of a gigantic truck. I think I'd prefer the wildlife. They can only kill you.

Saturday, 5 January 2019

Found my painting head in the cupboard

That would be closet to anyone who doesn't live in the UK.

I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I'd like to join her and go somewhere new - or perhaps I'm just going bonkers as my beloved has so often claimed.

Friday, 28 December 2018

Don't talk to me like I was a baby!!!!

Less than three weeks old and Harper is becoming more and more like her mother. Check out the middle finger if you don't believe me.

    Next, she'll be demanding a ride on my motorbike.

Sunday, 9 December 2018

I'm back - briefly

Hi all.

    Apologies for my absence but I've discovered just how difficult it is to work days, and nights at the same time.
    Not literally at the same time, but working days and nights, all in the same week is doing strange things to what others laughingly refer to as my brain. The problem is that it (my brain that is) just doesn't know what time it is anymore. I know what time it is, but on the days I'm working days, I go to bed and sleep isn't there. Come or so, just as I'm supposed to be getting up, I begin to feel tired and spend the rest of the day like a zombie. 

    When I work nights, and get home by about it's easy to have a leisurely breakfast and then got to bed for six hours of solid sleep before waking about three o'clock in the afternoon feeling strangely guilty about being in bed.

    Hopefully it will pass. I am getting old after all, according to she-who-must be-feared. But then she'd know, being older than me. (Sorry darling that just slipped out.)

    Here's (part of) the cover for a new novel I've been thinking of. As usual I paint the cover first to give me an inkling of what's to follow. It's my way of saving myself typing a hundred pages of of notes - most of which will be trashed when I actually begin writing.

    Yes, there is a bit of cloning there, but I'll repaint in my own style - if I keep it. But the face is purely my own creation and I'm quite proud of it. The hue of the eyes are essential to the plot.

Wednesday, 21 November 2018

My Baby's had a baby

My daughter is almost twenty five but she'll always be a baby to me.

    Here she is, Harper.

That's not me but the proud father.

    Typically of my family not everything went quite according to plan. The problem is my almost complete immunity to drugs of any kind. Sadly my daughter has caught the plague, which was why they didn't know the epidural hadn't worked until the knife broke the surface.

    Seconds later, partner thrown out, daughter under general, and here she is. All's well. Now, apart from being delighted, all I have to do is come to terms with being a grandad. I feel ancient already.

Sunday, 18 November 2018

Ellie's shrinking

Ellie and her new partner have moved to a new stable where they seem to be very happy. Mutant Shetland number two (Ela) is almost four feet tall and towers over Ellie. You'd think my daughter could come up with something a little different but as she's only one day short of giving birth to her first baby, she's probably got other things on her mind. The two nags seem to like each other and yesterday, in a display of equine solidarity, and in keeping with all the other brainlessness displayed about the yard, she tried to eat a bag of galvanised nails I was using to repair the fence. This was in a futile attempt to keep out the other two new occupants of the stables, who both seem to like eating hay as well.

    Living with them are two (is there a more expressive adjective than enormous?) rottweilers with a combined IQ in the low single digits. Both are enormouser than Ellie and could easily eat her if they chose. Providing, of course, they could either get to their feet without falling over or walking more than five feet without slamming straight into the nearest door. I'l try to get a shot of them next time if I can wake them up; and of Ela if I can get her out of the hawthorn bush in which she has decided to spend most of her days.

Wednesday, 31 October 2018

It's as cold as the arctic and the flowers have just bloomed

As always my front garden has its own micro climate. It's cold enough to freeze - well you can guess the rest, and yet this is the front of my house.


    As gardens go I know it's pretty pathetic but at least while the rest of the street looks like a wasteland, my front patch is brimming with colour.

   This is what it will look like by next week. Just when my new job is supposed to begin, and necessitating the use of my motorbikes to go to work. I shouldn't complain, after nearly three months of idleness because my arm decided to stop working, the bank balance has shrunk more than a little. If I don't begin earning a wage soon, those pretty front flowers will  make a nice stew.