After School care

I’ve started taking a camera around with me again. I used to do it all the time and not too long ago I couldn’t even find the camera, or a battery to go in it.
The charger was a whole other level of missing.

It’s the winter evenings that get me. Dark at four and the blaze of colours just before it, the creep of black shadows, the bite of cold on my nose and standing alone in places where if anyone sees me they think I’m up to no good.

Bowling is a great pace for this. The ever faster crumbling harbour pulls me down with optimism and whatever warm jacket was to hand.
It’s not always spectacular but is always pleasant or interesting, calming or melancholy.

I like fooling the camera, making it take darker shots than it really wanted. I now fully accept that I am very limited as a photographer and I just like doing my own thing.
Magic.

The nights are fair drawin’ in ’19

I’m not the biggest fan of summer, it saps me of energy, strength and enthusiasm. Autumn is like fresh batteries and winter is like rocket fuel but I am taking a little time adjusting the creeping darkness this year.

Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s all the awesome big dinners from online vouchers, maybe it’s time to get my arse in gear. Easier said than done, especially from under a PHD down quilt.

It’ll get better I’m sure.

 

I, Assassin

I was not along in watching the sunset.

We both had snacks, mine were sweet, I think hers were savory.

We went to see Gary Numan at the O2 Academy in town, I think she just played at home. Still savory.

Still, could have worse neighbours.

The View Remains the Same

It was only this week that I finally took the big chrome fan that’s kept us cool all summer out of the living room. Might have been a bit early looking at it out there on Saturday, but I’m sure that blue sky and sunshine was programming fault and the hotfix arrived in time for our day out on Sunday when it surely pissed down.

I can see the seasons change from this window just by the sky. The sun disappears from view when it hits the horizon for the summer, but autumn brings it back a few degrees a day and winter has it staring right back at me through the glass.

I’m glad the times are changing. I’m looking forward to golden leaves, cold days, weak sun and frost. So much has changed this year, I’ve had my very own seasons. Magic.

Moon Landing

A few weeks back the moon was very strange. Dark and fuzzy, deep orange behind mist and ribbons of dark cloud.

I remembered it well, it happened a couple of nights in a row.

I was up the crags last night and took a bunch of photies. When I downloaded them when I got back there were a few of the moon from back then still on the card.
I must have taken them on a late dozy wander for a pee or a cuppa. The moon slipping down into Misty Law and Hill of Stake with the reflection on Bowling Harbour.

Magic.

Lock

It’s been a quick summer. It feels like I hardly sat down, even a month into the new school term feels like I blinked and it happened.

I’m going to go back through my files and try to piece some of it together so I can remember it in times to come.

Truth be told I won’t forget it, it’ll just be nice to see it again when my knees have finally gone completely.

It’s a bomber, hey hey

I spend so much time creeping up on wildlife just for it flit, flat, flut away. Especially in the crags where it’s all over the place all the time and I have no evidence of it whatsoever.
But, this time was different. I heard it first, the low jagged thrum of the wings was really close. We stopped and I tuned my ragged ears into it as best as I could.
There in the grass, just by the path.

I pulled my phone out, flapped open the case and pulled the camera up in what felt like 33 minutes.
Still it sat there, big eyes disinterested, wings wide and hanging from a blade of grass looking as gallus as as a cafe racer leaning on a BSA Goldstar.

I got a couple of shots. That’ll keep me going for a wee while.

Aff

Got behind in my explanationing. Blogging is old hat so that’s what I’m calling this now.

So I was rummaging behind the passenger seat of the truck for a folder of certificates and much to my surprise all I found was a sharp pain.
I pulled by hand back, saw the nail hanging off of my (former) ring finger, pressed it back on with my right hand then dropped my face onto the drivers seat before I puked all over myself.

I’ve had a lot of stupid injuries, but this was the winner, even better than being blown up. A fingernail. What the hell man.
So with bravado and pain killers, some help with cleaning and bandaging I got on with it. For a whole day and a half.

My finger started going a bit funny, red was creeping down past the knuckle and it was very swollen and angry looking.
The doctor went “Oof” and I nearly shat it.
“Take these for 48 hours, if there’s no improvement or you feel anything else before that, phone in and we’ll take it from there. Can’t be too careful with sepsis.”
Whatever he gave me knocked me flat, I slept for most of the next week and with a much less red finger, I must add. Caught in time.

It was a mess though and I was off for best part of three weeks, couldn’t hold tools, couldn’t play guitar or hold a PlayStation controller either for that matter.

All because of impatience. And putting the nail back on, apparently that was stupid. I like the new claw I’m growing in its place though. Much fancier.

Luckily Linda’s schedule is as all over the place as mine and there was much lunching, cuppas and gadding about.
And a blue ice lolly? Hell yes, maybe it was all worth it.

Klaus II

Klaus is gone. Rescue pets are always a risk and whatever happened in his previous life to give him his PTSD and swollen belly caught up with him. It was all very quick, the vet was kind but realistic and a pain relief shot eased him through his last day.
We are heartbroken.

I know it sounds stupid and if was reading it instead of writing it I might roll my eyes, but I really bonded with the wee guy. He knew my voice and he was happy to be handled, I cut his claws without any fuss and he was quite at home, running around the place in the evenings like he was at home. Which he was.

I can’t explain how much having this wee guy helped my head.  We are going to miss him.

Chicken Maryland

 

Maryland is the Lang Craigs area where the fire started before blowing across our fence line and down towards Bonhill where folk started to care about it and post photies online.
The chickens are the ned bastards that started it.

We were lucky, we didn’t lose a lot of trees but we did lose habitat. Just earlier in the day something rare and green was recorded in the charred broom bushes by one of the other rangers (can’t remember the name of it which would have helped with the drama, but I’m the fence guy, what do I know).

I saw the smoke from miles away and ran up with Holly to see what I could do but there were four appliances already there and some very busy firefighters with beaters.
The action had moved west but we still got another engine up beside us just in case.

I came back to survey the damage the next day and the ground was still hot and smoking, the fence line was intact was needed urgent repairs.
Folk were letting their dogs run through the burned areas, oblivious to the yelping of soft paws on hot ashes. Folk, eh.

Disneyland Paris

I hadn’t been abroad for years, hadn’t been on a holiday in years. It came as a great surprise when my folks came home all smiles and excitement “Guess what we’ve booked!”
It was confusion and stress, panic and desperation all through the run up to going but when I got to the airport, I was fine. Better than fine.

The flight was uneventful and an easy first step into the air for Holly.

France was warm and misty as the bus took us the short journey to the Disneyland Hotel where we were greeted by cast not staff in the set of a movie from my childhood and from that moment on, it was pure magic.

Dinner was bizarre, the food was excellent and we had company at every meal. The real deal too, no impostors here. Minnie was lovely, saw her and Mickey a lot. They certainly put in the hours.

The parks are amazing and we spent the next few days working around every ride, catching every show, being flipped upside down and having faces that were sore from smiling.
Me and Holly walking the park late at night and catching the last ThunderMountain ride before wandering home through the dark and the lights is something I will take to the grave.
The adverts always talk about making memories here and it turns out it’s true. They are very clever these Disney folk. Yes you pay for it (well, Jimmy did, bless him for all time), but they come through on the deal perfectly.

One dinner was constantly interrupted by these women visiting the tables. Holly seemed to know them all.

Snow White swung by first and I swear to you it was the girl straight out the 1937 movie, the look and the voice, it was her. It’s amazing.

The nightly shows are epic and beautiful. It’s clean and friendly and we all got so tired it took us a week to recover.
The food was excellent, I was with those dearest to me and loved every second of it. So many memories made and so hard to articulate it.

It was important in ways I didn’t expect. Dealing with the airport and travel confusion, not speaking much French, I found my old confidence was right there where I’d left it and I came back home feeling the best I had done in years. And, that hasn’t faded at all, everything changed on that trip and it’ll stay with me for the rest of my life.

What will also stay with me is the time I spend with Minnie and also the bizarre experience of the Star Wars ride with C3PO screaming at me in French. Just brilliant.

Grab your coat, you’ve pulled

It’s not all about plastic. I find these ring pulls all the time by Loch Lomond, more than 30 years after they became obsolete.

It shows that the lochside has long been a magnet for stupidity, it’s not all about a sudden influx of car carried stupids the past few years.

Maybe you can’t educate some folk to see what they’re doing wrong or get them to care about it.
One of my worries was a mile away from this photie where the Park were charging folk to camp on a manky badly angled patch of scrub at Firkin Point. If they charged me for that I’d want to throw litter and burn my tent in the morning.

Maybe treat people better and they will care.

See, it really is that colour

I should do more video, but this is a good advert for why I don’t. Sitting watching this beautiful scene with birdsong as a companion then I bark in your ear.

Still, this might have been the best sunset of recent times and it’s right ootside my door.