Symbolic Forest

We managed to be awfully productive yesterday. We’d gone to bed fairly early on Saturday night,^* so got up bright and early on Sunday morning. We were having breakfast in town when the streets were still deserted, and were wandering around shopping in almost-empty shops. We even managed to get all H’s grocery shopping done, get back home, feel like we’d used up a full day’s energy, and it was still only one o’clock. A whole half-a-day left to do productive things, creative things, imaginative things, limited only by our own imaginations.

So, of course, we lazed around on the sofa and ambled around the internet all afternoon instead. Hurrah!

* after a rather nice Indian meal at a restaurant on Chants Ave.

Keyword noise: efficiency, Hull, shopping, weekend.

I felt quite ill last night, and wrote a blog post in a delirious haze which absolutely no sense at all, which is why it’s since been deleted. As to why I felt quite so ill, I’m not entirely sure. But I’m blaming the stench.

I came home last night, and the first thing to do was feed the cat. So, of course, I go to the cupboard, and find a rather inflated packet of cat food. Not a good sign.

The only thing to do, though, was to move it. And as soon as I took it out of the cupboard, the stench hit me.

Now, some people have smelled horrible smells. Some people work in stenching plants,^* or fish factories. I’ve smelled our reception after people from the local fish plants have popped by, and they don’t leave a very good smell behind them. Some people have smelled sewage works, week-old battlefields, rotting seaweed, and many other horrible things. But all these people, when they smell the smell of a rotting pouch of cat food, so rotted it has inflated, would say: “bloody hell, that smells bad.”

It smells awful. It smells disgusting. It turned my stomach. I still felt nauseous several hours later, and there’s still a tinge of it about the kitchen.

The cat, sensibly, fled, and didn’t come back until morning.

* the places where they add the “gas smell” to gas, so that you can smell it when there’s a gas leak. Gas fresh out of the ground doesn’t smell of anything at all, and the concentrated liquid that gets added to produce the smell smells, I imagine, vile.

Keyword noise: The Cat, cat food, off, rotting, smell, stench.

Not much has been happening to me this week. Which is possibly the wrong way of looking at things: just the same number of heartbeats have happened, but for some reason I haven’t thought them notable. Maybe I’m not paying enough attention to them.

The other night we settled down to watch a retro-Doctor Who series, from the Tom Baker era,^* and reading the back of the box I realised that the first episode was originally broadcast on the day I was born. Strangely, it made me feel suddenly younger.

** The Invasion Of Time, if you were wondering

Keyword noise: Doctor Who, quiet, television, The Invasion Of Time, Tom Baker.

At the office, we often get random pieces of promotional crap sent to us by companies touting for business. The best so far: an “emergency phone kit” from O2.^* The latest: a pen from Openreach. If you’ve not heard of Openreach yet: they’re the chunk of British Telecom that actually gets to play with wiring and hardware, and ends up doing all the manual work.

Openreach’s PR people clearly aren’t as imaginative as O2’s, because they’ve sent us a ballpoint pen. One of those pens with a moving picture inside, that slides from one end to the other when the pen’s tilted. Rather than go for the classic “woman whose bra and knickers disappear” design, their pen has a background of terraced houses, and an Openreach van chugging from one end to the other.

So far, so boring. This pen, though, is ideal to represent BT.^** Because of the speed the van moves: chug chug chug, dead slow along the line of houses. Perfectly representing the speed it takes BT to do pretty much anything.^*** Ideal publicity material!

* A piece of string, and a capped cardboard tube marked with a “cut here” line around the middle.

** Or, “Openreach, a part of the BT group”, as it says on their promotional bumpf

*** To be honest, I have found one part of BT that does what you ask, quickly, and gets it right first time: whatever office it is sets up reverse DNS information for ADSL lines with static IP addresses. If you do not know what this means, rest assured you will never need to get in touch with them. Oh, and if you know anyone who works for BT: they have a special staff-only customer service number which allegedly gets better service than the ordinary one, and if you have a problem they can call it up on your behalf.

Keyword noise: advertising, British Telecom, BT, junk mail, Openreach.

The end of another week, and it’s been an enjoyable one for a change. Work: not too stressful. Life: rather nice, in fact.

The only thing about work: I wish that I could regularly work a four day week, like I did this week. My day off was lovely: a lazy lie-in, breakfast at the Wetherspoons on Carr Lane, a bit of a potter round town, and dinner out at a rather nice restaurant. It’s a shame I can’t have a day like that every week.

Today, as you can tell, must be Colon Day.

Tonight, I have mostly been marvelling at some origami crease patterns,^* and trying to see if I can see any link at all between the pattern and the finished design. In general, I can’t see any connection, and it leaves me wondering who on earth could read a complex mass of geometrical lines and see that it folds up into a tiny little ornament.

* link via but she’s a girl…

Keyword noise: holiday, Hull, origami.

This morning, I was driving to work, slightly earlier than normal, through the dawn. Going down Boothferry Road, I could see the crescent moon large and low in the sky, and I suddenly realised how beautiful the morning sky looked. How beautiful the world can appear all of a sudden.

Keyword noise: beauty, Hull, moon, morning, dawn, Yorkshire.

Now, I know we haven’t seen the slightest bit of snow here in the Forest this week. But even so, I don’t see why it’s a major news story just because it happens in London. I suppose, as Diamond Geezer pointed out, there’s a good chance this will be the last time London ever gets heavy snow, so I suppose they should all make the most of it.

At least I’m off to Wooldale tonight, so I should see plenty. Just so long as I can get home again afterwards.

Keyword noise: snow, weather, winter.

I wish I carried my camera around with me everywhere. I don’t, because it’s too large and heavy and valuable to take it everywhere with me. There are so many pictures I wish I could have caught, which I’ve missed. I used to keep a sketchbook with very rough sketches of some of them, all far better photos than any of the ones I’ve taken.

This morning, driving to work, through the Western Fields. Mist and fog were hugging the ground, up to about five feet. Above it trees and bushes were breaking through, black silhouettes, and above that dawn through the clouds. It’s rare for the morning to look so beautiful.

Keyword noise: dawn, fog, ink polaroids, landscape, mist, winter, weather.

Leaving is always hard. Leaving somewhere you want to stay is a difficult thing to do.

What’s worse, though, is being left behind. It’s a feeling I’ve always hated, whenever I’ve had guests. The emptiness of the house, of the room, after people you’ve wanted to spend time with have gone away. If you’re the person leaving, you have travelling to do, things to take your mind off the departure. If you’re the person being left, you have nothing to help you.

Because of that, I can always sympathise, with anyone in that situation.

Keyword noise: departure, emptiness, guests, holiday, leaving, travel, visit.

This week, I have managed to:

• be completely baffled about the nature of relationships (and other people in general)
• Make someone happy, just by putting a website online for them
• (I didn’t even design the website myself)
• Explain the meaning of the term “shaggy dog story”
• Annoy The Mother, as per usual
• Annoy The Cat, by ignoring him when he tries to wake me up at 5am
• Let other people get me down (see point 1)
• (yes, I know they’re not numbered)
• Let me get myself down
• And thus piss off most of the other people I know, by moping constantly.

On the other hand, I can always cheer myself up by reading what people have been searching for on the net, that has led them on a misguided goose-chase to this place:

drunken squirrel – sorry, no clue
carpenter furniture joke – start here and be prepared to groan
birthday presents for goths – black things? Possibly?
things you do automatically – I’m not sure. They’re automatic. I don’t really notice them.
how to snog a colleague – use your tongue
gerbils show around west midlands – I really have no clue now
“i hate grimsby” – don’t we all, dear
extreme kidnapping fantasies – Oh-kay…
sex in forest – …that’s enough of that, I think.

Keyword noise: accomplishments, The Cat, feline, relationships, The Mother.