Lots of excitement in the coming days and weeks:
o The return of a Big Machine.
o A lunatic up a tree.
o Some natural magic.
Not necessarily in that order. But all (which will come as a relief to the hard of reading) with pictures.
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Thursday, 2 September 2010
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
Too busy to blog
I can’t even begin to tell you how busy we’ve been. (Which is a bit sad. Because in my dotage, I won’t be able to look back, over my enormous wine-and-duck belly and say: “Blimus. I’m glad I’m not as busy as that any more.”)
But I can tell you about the day we were supposed to pick up the rabbits. For some reason, in the Present Tense.
Drop the kids off at school and go to pick up friend’s trailer in Lanquais. Drive into field and take down 18-foot yurt (aka Guest Yurt One), where Bob’s been staying for a few weeks (I haven’t told you about Bob). The wind is strong and Things Fly Around Annoyingly. Return to Shack and take down 18-foot yurt, the roof cover for which was beautifully made by Her Outdoors in time to beat the rain and protect the pounded-earth floor, but which leaked like a sieve because of Something They Don’t Tell You When You Buy Waterproof Canvas (more on this later) and necessitated the Abandoning of the Adobe Floor Concept for 2009. Put up Guest Yurt One on Near Shack platform (which isn’t easy, I won’t tell you). Cook lunch. Add groundsheet under frame. Add insulation to groundsheet. Move furniture from field to Near Shack platform. Pick up Boy from school. Pick up Her Outdoors’ parents and bring back for dinner. Move furniture from 12-foot yurt (aka The Play Yurt) where we had been sleeping, to make room for Bob (who I still haven’t told you about). Phone Richard the Butcher to say we won’t be able to pick up the rabbits today. Pick up The Daughter from school. Return trailer to friend so it can be used by them the next day. Have dinner with visiting family.
And that wasn't an especially busy day.
But I can tell you about the day we were supposed to pick up the rabbits. For some reason, in the Present Tense.
Drop the kids off at school and go to pick up friend’s trailer in Lanquais. Drive into field and take down 18-foot yurt (aka Guest Yurt One), where Bob’s been staying for a few weeks (I haven’t told you about Bob). The wind is strong and Things Fly Around Annoyingly. Return to Shack and take down 18-foot yurt, the roof cover for which was beautifully made by Her Outdoors in time to beat the rain and protect the pounded-earth floor, but which leaked like a sieve because of Something They Don’t Tell You When You Buy Waterproof Canvas (more on this later) and necessitated the Abandoning of the Adobe Floor Concept for 2009. Put up Guest Yurt One on Near Shack platform (which isn’t easy, I won’t tell you). Cook lunch. Add groundsheet under frame. Add insulation to groundsheet. Move furniture from field to Near Shack platform. Pick up Boy from school. Pick up Her Outdoors’ parents and bring back for dinner. Move furniture from 12-foot yurt (aka The Play Yurt) where we had been sleeping, to make room for Bob (who I still haven’t told you about). Phone Richard the Butcher to say we won’t be able to pick up the rabbits today. Pick up The Daughter from school. Return trailer to friend so it can be used by them the next day. Have dinner with visiting family.
And that wasn't an especially busy day.
Monday, 20 July 2009
Devolution accomplished
The last few steps down the devolutionary ladder were expectedly frantic.
We attempted to build the bathroom extension and, thanks completely to English mafia Nick, made an excellent start. But we didn't have enough time, so we focused our efforts on: waterproofing and laying a floor in the Shack basement for Stuff Storage; putting a joisted floor in one half of the tractor shed for Yurt Storage; sanding and oiling an 18-foot yurt frame and setting it up in the field for Other Stuff Storage; building an emergency bucket compost toilet; taking yet More Stuff (we seem to have a lot of it) to Jackie and Chris' barn; turning the caravan into a kitchen; and keeping two small children relatively happy.
Then more of the English mafia (and one Belgian: 'We don't have mafia in Belgium') pulled together to help us move - despite the heat (high 30s and beyond) and we drove away from conventional accommodation for the foreseeable future.
It's only taken three years since having the idea, two years since moving to France, countless drops of blood, floods of sweat and the occasional tear, but we've done it. Finally, legally, we're living in a tent in a field. (The devolution is so complete, I'm actually writing this on a piece of paper on a table in the shade, in biro. It probably should be a pencil. Give it time.)
Obviously, this would be an excellent time to bring this blog to an end. But I'd only have to start a new one to tell you what happens after the devolution. So I've settled instead on a simple name change. You know how I love parentheses.
We attempted to build the bathroom extension and, thanks completely to English mafia Nick, made an excellent start. But we didn't have enough time, so we focused our efforts on: waterproofing and laying a floor in the Shack basement for Stuff Storage; putting a joisted floor in one half of the tractor shed for Yurt Storage; sanding and oiling an 18-foot yurt frame and setting it up in the field for Other Stuff Storage; building an emergency bucket compost toilet; taking yet More Stuff (we seem to have a lot of it) to Jackie and Chris' barn; turning the caravan into a kitchen; and keeping two small children relatively happy.
Then more of the English mafia (and one Belgian: 'We don't have mafia in Belgium') pulled together to help us move - despite the heat (high 30s and beyond) and we drove away from conventional accommodation for the foreseeable future.
It's only taken three years since having the idea, two years since moving to France, countless drops of blood, floods of sweat and the occasional tear, but we've done it. Finally, legally, we're living in a tent in a field. (The devolution is so complete, I'm actually writing this on a piece of paper on a table in the shade, in biro. It probably should be a pencil. Give it time.)
Obviously, this would be an excellent time to bring this blog to an end. But I'd only have to start a new one to tell you what happens after the devolution. So I've settled instead on a simple name change. You know how I love parentheses.
Friday, 10 April 2009
No, I didn't
It was more like half a centimetre. I would show you, but Her Outdoors has gone to England to see the newest member of the family - with the camera. Leaving me with potato beds to dig, a website to write, life to manage, all that fun stuff.
If you're desperate for something interesting to read, the formerly boy-genius Cafe del Nightmare has started blogging again.
UPDATE: It still looked tight, so I cut another half centimetre of it the other day. It still looked tight. I blame the drip edge. Few wouldn't.
If you're desperate for something interesting to read, the formerly boy-genius Cafe del Nightmare has started blogging again.
UPDATE: It still looked tight, so I cut another half centimetre of it the other day. It still looked tight. I blame the drip edge. Few wouldn't.
Wednesday, 17 December 2008
Not a blog post from me
I just read this comment from 'peterbaldwin' on Robert Peston's blog. It's very well written - it's even spelt correctly:
"It is understood I hope, that Capitalism as it has been known during the last 30 years is all but dead. An immensely painful transition is about to get underway in the western economies. As a nation we can embrace the changes and help it along, or we can resist, thereby making the transition even more painful than it needs to be. At the moment, and I fear for the next few years, it looks like we are going to resist. We will keep borrowing, keep pumping money into a dead economy, and we will keep digging this hole deeper and deeper.
An enlightened government however would see the crass stupidity in this action and take a look to 10 or 20 years ahead and see where all this is leading and start planning for it now. For that is really what governments are for, the long term and not the short term, as unfortunately they all seem to be these days.
In 10 or 20 years the market economy must cease to exist. If we artificially keep it alive, then as a nation, and as well as a race, we will plunge headlong into total economic and social collapse as the accelerating environmental changes take hold and demand impossible resources to deal with them, especially if we want to keep our present day levels of consumption and living standards. The eco system can no longer support us.
So the future is a known quantity. It is a hot, hungry, dry and hard place to be. If the present way of life is to change, as it must, then it must change in a controlled way to meet the future we see coming. Economies, production methods, social systems and personal needs all have to be directed to a way of life that can be sustained.
Money as King is a corpse. Profit as prince is dead. What we are seeing at the moment with the tax payer directly and visibly supporting the economy and thereby our society. This will continue and become the norm, expanding into all areas of money and material production. It will not be called Communism, but rather Socialised Capitalism.
The trick will be to stop the taxpayer realising his power and keeping it in the hands of those who currently weld it. Until that trick is achieved, then the current pain will continue and deepen because the power welders will be scared of letting go and scared of change to the status quo.
When the transition is completed, then accelerating competition can ease and our focus can be turned to the real issues. Our very survival."
More on this, later.
"It is understood I hope, that Capitalism as it has been known during the last 30 years is all but dead. An immensely painful transition is about to get underway in the western economies. As a nation we can embrace the changes and help it along, or we can resist, thereby making the transition even more painful than it needs to be. At the moment, and I fear for the next few years, it looks like we are going to resist. We will keep borrowing, keep pumping money into a dead economy, and we will keep digging this hole deeper and deeper.
An enlightened government however would see the crass stupidity in this action and take a look to 10 or 20 years ahead and see where all this is leading and start planning for it now. For that is really what governments are for, the long term and not the short term, as unfortunately they all seem to be these days.
In 10 or 20 years the market economy must cease to exist. If we artificially keep it alive, then as a nation, and as well as a race, we will plunge headlong into total economic and social collapse as the accelerating environmental changes take hold and demand impossible resources to deal with them, especially if we want to keep our present day levels of consumption and living standards. The eco system can no longer support us.
So the future is a known quantity. It is a hot, hungry, dry and hard place to be. If the present way of life is to change, as it must, then it must change in a controlled way to meet the future we see coming. Economies, production methods, social systems and personal needs all have to be directed to a way of life that can be sustained.
Money as King is a corpse. Profit as prince is dead. What we are seeing at the moment with the tax payer directly and visibly supporting the economy and thereby our society. This will continue and become the norm, expanding into all areas of money and material production. It will not be called Communism, but rather Socialised Capitalism.
The trick will be to stop the taxpayer realising his power and keeping it in the hands of those who currently weld it. Until that trick is achieved, then the current pain will continue and deepen because the power welders will be scared of letting go and scared of change to the status quo.
When the transition is completed, then accelerating competition can ease and our focus can be turned to the real issues. Our very survival."
Friday, 3 October 2008
A month passed...
In the last 30 days, I’ve had a birthday (again? I’m beginning to see a pattern here), we’ve packed up and moved into a beautiful farmhouse a couple of kilometres away (and are currently enjoying a life filled with breadmaking - that’s why these kitchen tables are so big – wood cutting for the log-burner, fruit picking for jams and jellies, not answering the non-existent phone, seriously high levels of peace and quiet, and a whole lot more), driven to the bottom of Spain and back for the wedding of one of the Daughter’s soul mate’s parents, returned to discover I’m not allowed to use the Interweb at work (and seeing as my lunchbreak coincides with that of the Interweb place in town, blogging has become nigh-on impossible), overdone it with the strimmer, had to cope with a broody hen, paid a couple of speeding tickets (gotta watch that road from the Spanish border back to Bergerac), and witnessed the end of the beginning of the end of capitalism.
Oh yes, and I saw a snake.
I was taking the dog for a walk round the fishing lake (did I tell you about the fishing lake? I’m sorry – you’ll be telling me I didn’t mention the swimming pool next - or the orchard) when I came across it. Or more accurately, it came across me. Don’t know what kind it was, but it was dark, fast-moving and about five metres (yards) away. Seeing it was easily as shocking as accidentally touching an electric fence, and makes you realise that shorts and silly rubber clogs are not ideal for a stroll in the garden. If several acres can be called a garden.
Whatever next?
Oh yes, and I saw a snake.
I was taking the dog for a walk round the fishing lake (did I tell you about the fishing lake? I’m sorry – you’ll be telling me I didn’t mention the swimming pool next - or the orchard) when I came across it. Or more accurately, it came across me. Don’t know what kind it was, but it was dark, fast-moving and about five metres (yards) away. Seeing it was easily as shocking as accidentally touching an electric fence, and makes you realise that shorts and silly rubber clogs are not ideal for a stroll in the garden. If several acres can be called a garden.
Whatever next?
Monday, 29 October 2007
On blogs
For the last couple of weeks, apart from clearing woodland, trundling wheelbarrows full of rocks/soil up steep driveways, having the occasional bonfire (or should that be "goodfeu"?), wrestling with a borrowed strimmer, and person-handling twentysomething fenceposts out of the ground, I've been tentatively exploring the blogosphere.
I started with the Other Blogs section of my excellent and insanely talented friend Café del Nightmare (check out the archives for ceaseless interest) and, through RockMother, found interest and amusement at long-term bloggers Patroclus and Grammar Puss.
Interestingly (to me), a name I recognised kept cropping up in the comments sections. Last time I saw him, he was on Mastermind. (Although that's not listed in his Wikipedia entry.)
Yesterday, I added "smallholding" to my profile, clicked on that, and have discovered an even newer world of blogs that include Hedge Wizard's Diary and Self sufficient 'ish'.
I've got to stop. I've got so much to do.
I started with the Other Blogs section of my excellent and insanely talented friend Café del Nightmare (check out the archives for ceaseless interest) and, through RockMother, found interest and amusement at long-term bloggers Patroclus and Grammar Puss.
Interestingly (to me), a name I recognised kept cropping up in the comments sections. Last time I saw him, he was on Mastermind. (Although that's not listed in his Wikipedia entry.)
Yesterday, I added "smallholding" to my profile, clicked on that, and have discovered an even newer world of blogs that include Hedge Wizard's Diary and Self sufficient 'ish'.
I've got to stop. I've got so much to do.
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