Ooof

Jun. 18th, 2017 03:07 pm
bunn: (Logres)
It is hot. I walked in Deerpark wood, hoping to avoid too much sun and flies. Most of the year, Deerpark wood is a walk that definitely requires wellies, because there are so many small streams running everywhere through it that it gets quite muddy, particularly where riders have taken horses through, but on a day like this, there is little mud and the many tiny streams are clear and sparkling. I know it must be really hot because Rosie got into one stream right up to her elbows! Most unusual behaviour for Madam I Can't My Feet Might Get Wet.

She also spent some time huffing and puffing down rabbit holes, like the Big Bad Wolf. She sticks her head in as far as it will go, and presumably, she can see or hear or smell the rabbit, not far away. Because once she has jammed herself in there, she huffs and blows. I am not sure if she is hoping that if she puffs hard enough the rabbit will shoot out of one of the other holes? That's certainly what it looks like.

The foxgloves are still in bloom and there are places where you have to scramble your way through tall purple groves of them. Down by the lower streams, the yellow monkeyflower is everywhere. It's not a native plant here, so I would guess that someone once dumped some garden waste in the wood and the streams have carried the seeds everywhere. And in between the foxgloves and the monkeyflowers, the white foamy flowers of wild carrot, which I usually call Queen Anne's Lace, but for some reason they looked more carroty today.
bunn: (Bah)
On Friday evening after we got back from canoeing, the most enormous storm came up.  It had been the clearest, hottest blue-sky day, and then suddenly, rain was beating down, thunder grumbling all around and lightning everywhere: really everywhere, all around.   Very spectacular. Poor Brythen was most upset, but Rosie wasn't, nor Henning or Yama.  Odd, the things that do and don't spook them.

Pp has bought an airbrush and is excitedly trying out new miniature-painting techniques with it.  His paint attitude is diametrically opposed to mine: I seem to be slowly reducing the number of colours I paint with, to Paynes's Grey, Ultramarine Blue, Burnt Sienna, Titanium White, and Naples Yellow.  It's surprising how far you can get with just those...  Whereas he has LEGIONS of tiny paintpots in every possible shade and texture.

I'm supposed to be helping judge a dog show later today.  The weather forecast looked hot and sunny.  The actual weather looks grey and opaque: I can't even see Devon at the moment for the fog.  Hope it cheers up or I shall be judging dogs by feel : "This one seems to have... a tail. And fur! Well done!"

I've been having some difficulty sleeping, recently, which I know is par for the course for some of my friends but normally I can sleep almost any time so for me it's weird and upsetting!  Oddly, it was sleeping at night that was the problem, I'd sleep till maybe 4 or 5am then wake and not be able to go to sleep again.  I can resort to naps in the day, but those eat so much time!  I should probably cut back a bit on coffee.  *but I love coffee*  *laments*. And probably go to bed earlier...    It seemed to be related to writing, too: I kept waking up with ideas and thinking 'Oh, OK, I'll just note that down' and then two hours later...  Which would be fine if writing were a paid job, but since it's a hobby it's really silly.  Bah.

I have a bad feeling that the lack of sleep may also relate to the fact that I've taken a nose-dive this year into just not looking at the news, for the first time ever.   This is a bit cowardly and I should stop doing it.  Maybe next week.
bunn: (Bah)
Promises the Libdem election leaflet of one Matthew W.

No you won't.  There is no scenario where you will descend out of our Eastern hills into the West, falling upon the unsuspecting inhabitants of Truro with Fire and the Sword. Nor do I want you to.   For that matter, how do you know they are even wrong?  They might be right!  I might be wrong!   Also, if you are fighting for me, then very likely you will have to fight, not against the wild raiders of Penzance or the solemn townsfolk of Truro, but against the annoying man up the road that thinks it's appropriate to control growth of a cornish hedge by spraying it with weedkiller.

... I don't think election leaflets are aimed at me.

Must look up what eldrich horrors Mebyon Kernow (Sons of Cornwall) are promising.  Possibly they really are promising Fire and the Sword.
bunn: (canoeing)



Just watched this, and my reaction was IT’S  SIT DOWN BY JAMES!!!!  I feel I’ve somehow obscurely misused my nerd credit.   Flashback to listening to the radio in Oxford in... 1990? 1991? Something like that.

  And then a few years later driving endlessly from Chester to Birchwood in my awful, awful red Metro, and getting stuck endlessly on the Thelwall viaduct and singing along to James in the car because the Metro had the world's most ancient radio and it didn't get FM, and it didn't even have a tape player, and the one station you could get when stuck in the endless massive roadworks on the Thelwall Viaduct was always playing either James, Pulp or Oasis.  And occasionally fantasising about simply getting out of the car, when it hadn't moved for literally 30 minutes, or on one occasion TWO BLOODY HOURS, and just leaping over the edge of the bridge and swimming out to sea, never, ever, ever to return to a dull industrial estate on the outskirts of Warrington.

Which fantasy was probably enhanced by the fact that in those days it was still normal to go out to the pub* for lunch and return to work for the afternoon in a beer-induced haze that probably hadn't entirely worn off by the time the clock finally ticked with agonising slowness around to 5pm.   Still, I never killed anyone and on the Thelwall Viaduct you couldn't move fast enough to cause a disaster even if you were actually drunk.

I'm fairly sure this wasn't the intended set of associations.  WHO KNEW IT WOULD BE POSSIBLE TO HAVE THELWALL VIADUCT NOSTALGIA????

*which was a terrifying place which I'm sure later appeared in T
wo Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps, and which I would probably never have dared to venture into if I hadn't been hauled along by a gang of heavy-smoking Warrington Ladies who swore liberally and knew no fear.  God, they were an education.  
bunn: (canoeing)
On top of a fence post,
all covered in green
I photographed lichens
That evolved before the Eocene.


Read more... )
bunn: (Logres)
We decided to go over to Mount Edgecumbe on Saturday, since the weather forecast was good.  Of course, when Saturday arrived, it was snowing, but we thought let's go anyway.  And in fact it was quite pleasant down by the sea, although it would have been a sunnier day today.  Here's the folly and Drake's Island and Plymouth in the background.

Read more... )
bunn: (canoeing)
Phonecall from NHS: will I come in for checkup?  Well, OK I say, and agree a date and time.

Read more... )
bunn: (Rosie Down Hole)

Long ago, I was in Haye-on-Wye on what proved to be a bitterly cold and icy day.   Most of the shops in Haye-on-Wye sell books and book-related items, but books will not keep you warm (well, maybe they will if you buy enough of them to build yourself a house, but I was on holiday and therefore not inclined towards a longterm building project.)

But there was one shop selling hand-made woollen crafty items, and so I flung myself into it with gratitude, and, throwing economy to the wind in the interest of not actually freezing to death, I  purchased several items (knitted, if I remember rightly by Marches Matrons from Alpaca-wool).  I think I bought a scarf,  a pair of mittens, and this hat.  I am not sure what I did with the other items, but I still have the hat.   Usually I wear it with the flower at the back, because I feel the flower is somehow a bit too much on me.  Rosie, however, carries it off with style.

Poop

Nov. 9th, 2016 09:41 am
bunn: (canoeing)
I just bought a box of poobags online (I am picky about clearing up after my dogs, what can I say?)

The acknowledgement email came from 'poop' and the email address is poop@theirdomain.com.  Somehow that seemed oddly appropriate today but I wonder how many of their emails fall into spam filters...
bunn: (Car)
Yesterday as I was coming home from the morning dog walk, Helga Saab started to make an alarming wheezing groaning noise, and then she went PING, and I realised that her engine temperature gauge was right up in the red.   I pulled her out of the road, and peered into her engine, which did indeed feel very warm.  In fact she seemed to have no coolant left in her tank at all, which was odd because I check that regularly as the sensor that should report upon it is knackered.
Read more... )
bunn: (Smaug)
When they die, Elves are summoned to the Halls of Mandos by the authority of the Valar. But they don't have to go. They can choose.

Does Fëanor really seem like the kind of person who would accept that summons?  Even dead, having suddenly realised that he could not win, and his body disintegrated into ashes?
Read more... )
bunn: (Wild Garden)
Yesterday it rained.  I had planned to garden, but the sudden downpours were too much. Instead we went wandering around Tavistock for several hours with the hounds (and took them to our favorite dog-friendly cafe for lunch).  I managed to get some more titanium white acrylic paint and then since the shop had an offer, I bought some silver, buff titanium, and Naples Yellow (which at least in the Windsor and Newton range seems to be quite a muted pinkish shade).     Foster Ruggie was quite tired out by town life, and fell fast asleep in the cafe, so Brythen and Rosie got to split a home-made burger and chips between them.  Brythen ate all the chips. Chips are not refined enough for Rosie Roo.

ramble ramble ramble )
bunn: (Car)
Driving back from walking the dogs, I had the Ipod on random shuffle. First it gave me 99 Red Balloons, which for those with imperfect memories of 1980s pop, is a dystopian tale of how a day beginning with a minor act of environmental vandalism ends in global nuclear catastrophe. It ends with the singer standing in the dust that was a city.

And then my Ipod, which, it appears, is an unsung musical genius, swung straight into Bill Bailey's Cockney Medley : I swear the join was completely invisible, I didn't even realise the first song had ended until suddenly the lyrics. (And wtf, youtube, with the visuals on that Bill Bailey video? But it does start at just the right point).

And Helga Saab, whose internal IT originates from 2002, and so has a somewhat shaky relationship with the Ipod, who she considers newfangled and confusing, announced the second song on her display by saying BILLB LOONS

... perhaps you had to be there. But I almost drove into a hedge I was laughing so much.

Socks

Sep. 3rd, 2016 08:25 am
bunn: (No whining)
The delightful comfort of wearing warm socks when the weather has taken a turn for the chilly is disrupted by stepping in a splash of water, such as that created by a large hairy dog drinking incautiously.

And yet the splash is not so large that the entire foot is wet, so that parts of my feet are now crying 'we are sad and wet' while other parts of my feet are going 'but it's so snuggly and warm!  Can't you just wait a bit, the wet bits are bound to dry soon'.

I wonder if this is what Brexit feels like if you are a country.    Get it together, feet.

I should probably try to find another pair of clean socks.  (I do have many clean socks.  Shadow falls over this idyllic situation when the word 'pair' is mentioned.) 
bunn: (Kettlehat)
Yesterday I went over to Mary Tavy to watch a Shakespeare in the Garden production. Read more... )

Oldie foster stole some bubblewrap this morning,Read more... )
I've downloaded a copy of Synfig, an animation program, to play with. Because apparently I don't already have enough art supplies. I am hoping that it may be possible to use Synfig to produce animations created from pastel drawings, in some way. What could possibly go wrong?

Speaking of which, I am mildly annoyed Read more... )

On the other hand, the blackberries are ripening. This morning (on my long non-foster dog walk) I picked blackberries and ate the good ones, and kept the rest to chuck to the three pigs. I feel pigs probably don't mind their blackberries slightly squashed or maggoty.

A camera-related triumph! Read more... )

This evening we were just setting off to walk the dogs when we saw a pair of biplanes overhead! I didn't think you still got biplanes.
bunn: (dog knotwork)
1. Do you like blue cheese?

YESyesyesyes.  ALL the blue cheese  I can't decide if I regret introducing Pp to the wonders of blue cheese.  On the one hand, if he buys blue cheese I can eat it :-)  However, if I buy blue cheese, he might eat it. >:-(
Read more... )
bunn: (Smaug)
Some time ago I was exchanging comments with huinare about Huan, Hound of the Valar (who I now firmly see as a borzoi) and Sauron, and said that I thought that Sauron was the kind of person who carefully obeys a certain kind of rule, and reads manuals, and sticks within those parameters even when it would make more sense to creatively explore outside of them.

Hence Sauron and Morgoth's reaction to a wolfhound who cannot be slain, save by the greatest wolf that has ever walked the earth, which is basically :  We're Going To Need A Bigger Wolf.

I was thinking about that this morning  while making coffee, and particularly about orcs.  Orcs cannot abide the Sun. It's not just that they hate it,  it appears to be physically impossible for them to operate in sunlight for long.  Until Saruman got to work on them, at any rate.

But why?  Surely it is monstrously inconvenient to have a workforce and army that can only operate at night? Read more... )
bunn: (Brythen)
Tragically it is very very hot, and  I have drunk too much beer so my dog walking is likely to be erratic.

But I typed this post eventually with all the letters in order so I think that proves I am now sober enough to be In Charge of Hounds.

Remains to be seen if I shall make it home or go to sleep in a hedge 
bunn: (dog knotwork)
 I voted.  The dogs came too.  Carlos tried to steal the poll station bacon butties.

I seem to remember last time there was a poll, I mentioned that I thought the polling station was an old Nissan hut people asked for photos, so here it is:
Read more... )

Profile

bunn: (Default)
bunn

July 2017

S M T W T F S
       1
234567 8
910 1112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
3031     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 24th, 2017 08:35 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios