This amused me

To be pacific

Why do you always go off on a tandem,
say goodbye without further adieu?
It’s time you climbed down from your pedal stool -
this is not a phrase you’re going through,

when antidotal evidence suggests
you’ve been three-wheeling right from the start.
Or rather from the gecko, as you might say.
You’re always upsetting the apple tart.

Now I’m not saying I’m above approach:
it takes two to tangle, I won’t deny it,
But when push comes to shovel and all’s set and done,
I need rest bite, a little piece of quiet.

I’d love to curl up in the feeble position
but you pass me from pillow to post, you see,
with your Belgian whistles and semi-skilled milk -
they do not pass mustard with me.

I don’t regard you as a social leopard.
You’re no escape goat – just a hapless case,
But do be aware there may be reaper cushions
when you cut off your nose despite your face.

Brian Bilston

Brian Bilston (1970 – present) is a British poet and writer. His real name is Paul Millicheap. He started publishing short poems on Twitter and built up a following of 400,000. His work has been compared to that of Dorothy Parker and Ogden Nash.

Beautiful Ugly

 

Beautiful Ugly

I read this book by Alice Feeney recently. I found it initially interesting but ultimately unbelievable.

The obsessive writer, Grady Green, has lost his wife in peculiar circumstances. His faltering career – one best-seller published and another needed – is boosted by his agent advising him to go to a remote Scottish island to live in a cabin and concentrate on his writing. He finds the islanders difficult to understand and get to know, but he thinks his perception is affected by the gallons of bog myrtle tea he drinks and which he decides is causing him to hallucinate. (Bog myrtle tea is not hallucinogenic)

I read it very quickly because I wanted to get to the end and discover the solution. I was able to skim much of it because there was so much repetition. How many times does the reader need to be told that the main character, the writer, is tired, confused, sleepless, and drinking too much? Many, many times, it would seem. Perhaps the author was being paid by the word.

Switching the point of view from main character to missing wife made it a little more comprehensible, but I wondered why she had bothered to stay with a husband who had so little time for her and for whom she had little respect. All was revealed, unconvincingly, at the end.

I had no empathy with any of the characters, apart from the dog, whose fate worried me, though he seemed to survive without harm.

I understand that the author is British, so wondered at the American spellings and expressions.

It is a deeply unpleasant book.

The sweetest thing

 

The sweetest thing

We received a sweet Christmas card this morning from our youngest great-granddaughters, Melia and Hailey. It’s remarkably simple, and an example of how Nursery and Infant teachers (and parents) can help their charges effortlessly create a pleasing card.

The reindeer ‘head’ is a footprint decorated with ‘googly eyes,’ painted antlers, and a big red nose.

Our card is addressed to ‘Great Janice’ and ‘Great Barry’ – a compromise between Great-GrandMa/Pa and the parents’ wish to avoid what they may regard as overfamiliarity. I think it works, and it’s the only time we’ll ever be called ‘great.’

 

Christmas music

 Christmas music . . .

 . . . means different things to different people. In our house it’s usually classical and traditional. This morning, we had the Mormon Tabernacle choir belting out their repertoire. Barry remarked at one point, ‘It’s not quite King’s College, is it?’

The Tabernacle choir has a robust approach to music, exuberant and cheerful, but not subtle. It’s uplifting, though, and gets the blood pumping.

Black bin day

 

Black bin day

We have two bins, a brown one for garden waste, and a black bin for household, non-recyclable rubbish. Each is emptied fortnightly, though that may change. The trend to fewer collections is increasing. This week Tuesday is black bin day. Kitchen waste is collected every week.

It’s a relief when the rubbish leaves the house – that makes it sound as though it travels out under its own speed – if only!

For perhaps one or two days we can relax before the inevitable build-up resumes.

Refuse collectors have a smelly, unpleasant job, even with machines that lift the bins to empty them. Manoeuvring huge bin lorries along narrow streets, between badly-parked cars, or along rutted lanes is not a task for the faint-hearted. Out in all weathers, boiling in summer, wet and cold in winter, the men work week in, week out. I’ve never noticed any women doing the job, but I’m sure there must be some. (On looking it up, I found that women are increasingly involved in ’waste management,’ though still under-represented.)

We certainly notice if the dustmen go on strike. Over-filled bags split and deposit their contents on pavements. Rats are attracted, though it’s foxes that spread wrappers and containers far and wide.

The clanking, clanging progress along the road and the beeping of a reversing lorry all welcome the day. The men work efficiently and quickly, ferrying the bins from kerb-side to dust cart, and returning them, empty, to their starting point.

 We should appreciate our bin men more than we do. Life would be far less comfortable without their service.

 

Coffee

I love the smell of coffee but can’t stand the taste, so am never faced with the dilemma of which version to choose. I can just about understand ‘espresso,’ and ‘black,’ but things become a little trying when I see ‘ristretto,’ ‘red eye,’ or ‘lungo.’ They must mean something to someone, and indicate that there isn’t such a great difference between a barista and a barrister – both have to study and understand confusing terms.

I was astonished to come across mushroom coffee blends. I don’t know how they came to my attention, but delving further, I discovered that there is a subculture in the coffee business. Mushroom coffee blends laud physical, mental, and possibly emotional benefits. For example, Lion’s Mane is credited with supporting mental . . . oh, I’ll just copy and paste from the London Nootropics site: Lion’s mane, also known as the ‘brain mushroom’, has been valued for its potential role in supporting cognitive balance and overall mental wellness.

It's been said to be traditionally used by Buddhist monks during meditation and has been appreciated for centuries in spiritual practices and wellness traditions.

 

The additions are called ‘adaptogen extracts.’ There is a world of information ‘out there’ to be read, studied, and inwardly digested. Is mushroom coffee more expensive than the non-adapted stuff? The short answer is ‘Yes.’ It can be between two and five times as expensive as ordinary coffee.

 

I considered buying a few samples as unusual gifts for some of the coffee drinkers in my family, but decided against it. Some people find there’s little difference between mushroom and standard coffee, and are surprised to discover that it doesn’t taste like mushroom soup.

I often  wonder how much more ‘refinement’ can be added to the simple process of refreshment.

 

Rainbow carrots

 

Rainbow carrots

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

I have noticed a recent trend towards rainbow carrots. They are being promoted as a ‘superfood,’ whatever that means.

I read that they were once found only at farmers’ markets and high-end greengroceries, at an appropriately inflated price. They are still more expensive than the usual carrot-coloured articles, but are now readily obtainable at most  well-known superstores in the UK.

I bought some to try, but found the muddy colours quite off-putting, and not a feast for the eyes. It’s a good thing I wasn’t born five thousand years ago, when carrots in central Asia were usually purple, or even black or white. In Ancient Rome they were regarded as an herbal medicine and an aphrodisiac.

When carrots began to be more widely cultivated, in the Middle East, they were introduced to mediaeval Europe by Arab traders and were available in purple, red, yellow, and white. The carrots we now consider traditional only began to appear in the seventeenth century. The legend was that the Dutch farmers cultivated the orange variety to honour William of Orange who fought to free the Dutch from Spain. More prosaically, orange carrots were probably selectively bred as sweeter alternatives to the more bitter yellow carrots.

All carrots are beneficial. They are low in calories but high in vitamins and minerals, tasty, crunchy, and good for overall health.