Trying to get earlier. Strange pets. The intelligence of cattle.

 Since I was brought low by flu, or rather since I began to feel better, I have been trying to fight the lethargy (aka laziness) which makes it hard for me to get out of bed in the morning. It’s not been working very well. Today, however,  I was woken by my phone going “ping” at 7.30 am. A so-called friend was sending me a message about a possible future social arrangement. What was he doing sending messages at that time of day? It’s not the first time this has happened. He must be an early - and inconsiderate - riser! Anyway, there I was … awake and apparently not going back to sleep. So within a relatively short time I was up and dressed and, today being Wednesday, on my way to the market in Uppermill.

The market is still sadly depleted but the fish-man keeps on turning up, which is probably my main motivation in going since Jenny Biscuit, the cheese and biscuit stall-holder, has given up. So I bought fish, went to the Italian greengrocer’s for some fruit (the fruit and veg man at the market having also disappeared) and to the co-op store for the strawberry jam I have been forgetting to buy for the last week. And before you could snap your fingers I was on a bus and homeward bound. At some point I might get back on my trusty bike for Wednesday outings! 

But this was a big improvement in “getting the day started”. We shall see what tomorrow brings. 

It would seem that the girls’ grammar school I attended in the 1960s was way ahead of its time, in one respect at least. In the science lab we had an axolotl. His name was Aristotle, Aristotle the Axolotl. He didn’t do much, just moved around his tank from time to time, a sort of amorphous grey blob of a creature. But nowadays axolotls are THE THING. Much of their popularity is attributed to Minecraft as axolotls were added to the game back in 2021. TikTok has helped, or so I am told. 

It seems an unlikely sort of pet. You can’t snuggle it or take it for walks or teach it to do tricks. But then the same could be said of tropical fish and a friend of hours reckoned he spent relaxing hours watching his fish. And then there are stick insects - which you have to watch carefully in order to distinguish them from actual twigs. 

Someone called Eric Rasmussen owns The World of Wet Pets in Portland, Oregon, and says his store has had axolotls for years and years but it’s only since Minecraft featured them that interest in them has increased. And Jake Pak, who owns, or at any rate runs, Axolotl Planet, a breeding and sanctuary company in Texas, says that almost all the children who visit his establishment go there to see one in real life, having seen them in the world of Minecraft. Usually they ask to see a blue axolotl, the rarest in Minecraft, but non-existent in the real world,  a genetic impossibility, much to the chagrin of the children.

That’s the USA, so I decided to investigate the situation here in the UK. There are masses places where you can buy axolotls and all the equipment necessary and axolotl food. Who knew? It seems it’s their permanent smile that makes them so appealing!

Personally, I have a small plastic axolotl, purple in colour. Granddaughter Number Four recently spent some of her pocket money on a bag of tiny axolotls, about 1.5 centimetres in size, in assorted colours and presented just about everyone in the family with an axolotl of their own. Mine sits on a bookshelf in the bedroom. 

Right, that’s the axolotls dealt with. Now, what about the cows? Social media is full of pictures of a cow using a stick to scratch its back. Here’s a link to an article about it. People are amazed. Who knew that cows were so clever? Not only that, but what a surprise that humans are not the only tool-users. 

And yet when cows were largely kept outdoors in fields they always knew when it was time to make their way towards the milking shed. Once in my childhood we were playing in the cow-field behind our house. The cows ignored us until a small friend arrived with her dog and the cows took offence. They pursued us across the field, the small friend with the dog in her arms, until we jumped over the ditch and escaped back into our gardens. And many years ago someone told me that cows are used rather than bulls for training bullfighters. Bulls (and cows) quickly learn that it’s more important to charge the man behind the cape than the waving cape itself.  This is why bulls only ever fight once, or so I was told.

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone! 

Coordinated clothing - adults - children and pets. Labels. The power of poetry.

Granddaughter Number Four, nine years old, and I quite often accidentally coordinate what we are wearing. We must have a similar taste in colours as we often end up with reasonably matching outfits. So far we have never done it deliberately but I did recently buy the same fleecy-lined hoodie in both her size and mine. We have yet to meet somewhere and discover that we match hoodies but I think that is largely because it has been too cold recently to consider venturing out in a hoodie, even fleecy-lined, rather than a great big coat.

Apparently Beyoncé and Kim Kardashian are among those who dress their children and themselves in identical, not just vaguely colour-matching, outfits. Mind you I expect theirs are designer outfits that cost an arm and a leg. Now, according to this article, you can extend that “mini-me” dressing habit to your dog as well as to your child. For a mere £135 you can purchase a four-leg puffer-coat or, if that seems a little steep, for £110 you can acquire a reversible down-filled doggie jumpsuit! Very stylish, no doubt, but if these dog-lovers spend that much on canine clothes, how much do they spend on their own? Besides, do dogs REALLY need winter coats? Are they not already equipped by nature?

Here’s another bit of nonsense, comforting nonsense for some I suppose. Years ago when I was reading and rereading books by Doris Lessing, I came across a passage in one of her books where she commented on labelling people with psychological disorders. Being told you are “nothing but … (insert diagnosis)” was not so much a cure as an explanation. But for some people having a label was almost enough. Today I read that the grief you feel when a close friend or family member dies is not just sadness but a diagnosed mental condition: “Prolonged Grief Disorder, which can last many months, or even years, and often involves an intense longing and despair, problems socialising and going about daily tasks, and feeling like a part of oneself has died”. I’m sure it exists but I’m not sure it needs a label. 

But now experts say you can also suffer PGD after the death of a pet! The thing is that you can replace a pet but it’s rather harder to replace a lost family member. However, there are still societies where the grieving person is taken into the wider community and allowed to share their grief, much better than putting a label on it and suffering alone. 

There is a song by Georges Moustaki called “Danse”, pretty much inviting us to dance our way through life. One line tells us to dance as you might write a poem on a wall: 

“Danse comme on écrit sur les murs un poème.”

Well, here’s a link to an article about it being 40 years since an American writer living on London, Judith Chernaik, came up with the idea to post poems on the underground train system in London, poems you can spot amongst the adverts as you go up and down the escalators. She is 91 now but is still the editor, along with poets Imtiaz Dharker and George Szirtes, selecting six poems three times a year. Good for Transport for London, the Arts Council and the British Council for letting the tradition continue for so long. Long may poetry brighten our day!

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!

On wearing or not wearing hats. Aggressive poultry! Reasons for not returning to Venice.

Years go, well actually decades ago, the chess player David Bronstein came to visit. I don”t remember now he ended up at our house but I do remember his giving Phil the advice that he should always wear a hat in cold weather. Why? Because you lose a lot of heat through your head. He may have been especially convinced of this because he did not have much hair on the top of his own head. Ever since then we make occasional jokes about the need to keep your head warm. And whenever I see someone with a very young baby in a sling type baby carrier, a baby all wrapped up but without a hat (!) I am tempted to rush over and say, “Put a hat on that baby!” I have not yet yielded to that temptation but it may yet happen.

So this morning in one of those newspaper features where they question long standing myths, up popped the question: Is it true that youblose most body heat from your head? Apparently this is a 1970s notion and might possibly have originated in a US army training manual. But it seems there is nothing special about the head for losing heat, except perhaps that it’s a part of the body often left uncovered in cold weather. Grandson Number One, for example, with the vanity of his 20 years, hates to wear a hat as it messes up his carefully coiffed look! An expert tells us: “But if you went to the Arctic in a swimming costume, you’d lose more heat from your legs than your head because their surface area is bigger than your head’s.” Others argue that the head is less insulated than other parts of the body and so might need more protective clothing. The expert finishes off with this: “People probably need to cover their face as well, if they can. You lose quite a lot of heat through your face.”

And after all that information, maybe I am right to be astounded at the young, and sometimes not so young, men I see all wrapped up with a puffer jacket, a hat, gloves, possibly a scarf … and bare legs because they insist on wearing shorts even in January!

One way to walk back from our village takes us through the shared garden of a short row of terraced houses, picturesquely painted in a variety of colours. One of the householders keeps chickens. They have a chicken house for the night time but they roam free during the day. There are warning signs advising dog-owners to keep their animals on a lead as they walk through the garden area - there is a long-standing right of way for walkers - as they lost one of their feathered friends last year. One of the birds is a fine, glossy cockerel, a bird of little brain as he crows at all hours of the day. It cannot be denied though that he is beautiful specimen, seemingly black but with hints of red and green and purple. This morning he stood proudly in the middle of the path I walked on. I fully expected him to move out of the way but, no, he just stood there. So I sidestepped to go past him, at which point he lunged at me, or rather he lunged at my bag of shopping. His owner swore at him and hastened to assure me was swearing at the fowl, not at me. Aggressive poultry on a Monday morning!

Anyway, here’s a link to an article about how human behaviour can affect the lives of large birds.

I think I have expressed before my relief at having visited Venice before it became so tourist-crowded as it is reported to be nowadays. Like many beautiful places it suffers from the mixed blessing of tourism. Now I have found another reason not to visit Venice at present: it seems that celebrity-followers are making a point of visiting the places that were used for the Bezos wedding and therefore frequented by the Kardashians! What is the modern world coming to?

Hey! Ho!

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!

Cold and clammy weather. Some thoughts on that “board of peace”,

Today I did manage to get up and run according to plan, maybe not quite as early as I might have preferred but a distinct improvement on yesterday’s rolling over and going back to sleep for a while. Officially it’s less cold than it has been but going out relatively early this morning it felt colder than when I went out (eventually) yesterday which was positively balmy. Maybe it’s because today is damp and dull. There’s a clammy feel to the cold. It’s no good my weather app telling me that sunrise is at 08.14 am when the sun doesn’t appear to rise at all and the cloud just descends and it seems as though someone has stolen all our scenery. And then, to add insult to injury, it started to rain on me as well! 

Out in the wider world the White House has established a “board of peace” for Gaza. One of those invited to be part of this “board of peace” is former prime minister Tony Blair - smiling his way into 

Here are a few comments on this appointment from Michael Rosen:

“Blair to help run Gaza. What a pity that George W Bush wasn't available or chosen. It's important to keep continuity going from the previous generation of western politicians who are responsible for killing thousands of people in the Middle East. It builds trust.”

“If only Epstein was still alive, and then the trio running Gaza could have popped off to Epstein's island for their holiday breaks.”

And Michael Rosen’s Blris alter-ego: 

“ Dear Mogg

I see that Blair has picked up the Gaza job. I wager there's a few grand for him there. Why don't I get a jolly like that? I feel like Tom Bombadil, cut out of the movie of CS Lewis's 'Lord of the Rings'. 

Tabasco testes

Boris”

And here is Jeremy Corbyn:

“Donald Trump has not assembled a “Board of Peace” for Gaza.

He has assembled a Board of Occupation.

The future of Gaza is not up to Trump, Blair or Netanyahu. 

That is up to the Palestinian people.”

Today I read that Israel objects to the choice of leaders for the “board of peace”, without specifying who it objects to but stating that some of the appointments were “not coordinated with Israel and were contrary to its policy”.

Has anyone asked the Palestinians what they think about the appointees? Are the appointments coordinated with Palestine? 

Meanwhile there is this: 

“Despite a ceasefire announced in October, Israel continues to kill Palestinians. At least 463 Palestinians have died in Gaza since the nominal truce was established.

Israel also continues to restrict food and other forms of aid into the strip, with hunger prevailing in Gaza. Most of the population lives in substandard housing, with frayed tents providing little protection from the elements. Palestinians in Gaza have already died from hypothermia during particularly harsh cold snaps this winter.”

And here I am complaining about a bit of clammy, damp cold!

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!

Feeling lazy. Looking at fashion items. Feeling cowardly about climbing and wild swimming.

There was rain in the night. I heard it on the skylight windows. By the time I snoozed my alarm the rain had mostly moved on elsewhere but I was feeling lazy and rolled over and went back to sleep for a while.

After breakfast I got myself together and walked my running route. It had turned into a surprisingly mild day. How nice to go out in a fleecy hoody instead of a heavy winter coat.

Thinking of what we now call “hoodies” and seeing a fashion advert for what the fashionista called a “windbreaker”, I was reminded of the time on my pre-teen years when my favourite item of clothing was my “windcheater”. I always think of a “windbreaker” as a construction you set up on the beach when you have a picnic, a set of poles supporting a canvas affair intended to keep the wind off Grandma and the blown sand out of your sandwiches. A “windcheater” on the other hand is a lightweight jacket, made of light canvas fabric, not especially waterproof but good for keeping the wind out on blowy days - hence the name. Mine, I seem to remember, was a particularly pleasing shade of bright blue. I might have preferred a red one but the general consensus was thad a redhead should not wear red. Which is odd, as nowadays I frequently wear red.

Which brings me to Jess Cartner-Morley writing on fashion this morning, trying to convince us that if you have a garment, probably bought on impulse because it was reduced by 50%, which seems to go with nothing else in your wardrobe then you should bravely and clashingly wear it with everything as a kind of fashion statement: 

“So the sweet spot in fashion is where rules and rebellion meet. Your outfit is telling a story, and a story needs both a comprehensible plotline and a dose of dramatic tension. Great dressers know this instinctively. The pop of red lipstick against a simple dark dress, the vintage jeans worn with a smart blazer and heels. A little artistic licence is what elevates a look from being perfectly nice to being red hot. Like the Boss said, you can’t start a fire without a spark.”

I was impressed that she quoted Bruce Springsteen!

Phil and I recently watched a series called “Untamed” set in Yosemite national park in the USA. The opening scene shows people climbing a huge great rock-face, before showing us a young woman hurtling from the top of said mountain, unleashing a whole lot of investigation. That’s another story. Just seeing people climbing that sheer rock-face was enough to make me feel rather dizzy. And yet lots of people do it. Here’s a link to an article about someone who decided to take up what he calls “bouldering”, on indoor climbing walls but still a rather daunting activity in my opinion.

In a similar vein, here is a link to an article about someone who took up swimming in cold Nordic waters. Now I like to swim. I don’t mind a reasonably cold swimming pool but I must say that the swimming pool is an important factor. I like swimming in the sea but I feel a little out of control when it comes to finding my way back to the spot where I left my towel and other belongings. Harbours are a different matter altogether - a serious no no. Somewhere along the way I missed out on the adventurer gene, the same gene or lack of it, that made me reluctant to do handstands, to climb ropes in the gym at school, or to “run in” in skipping games, where you have to judge the moment to run into position to jump the swinging rope rather than get yorself tangled up in it. Basically, I am a bit of a coward! 

 

So it goes.

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!

Giving away prizes. Spending silly money. Listening to music.

 Another fine and sunny January day here. The millponds remain slightly frozen, despite weather apps telling us the temperature is up to 5°. Maybe there’s a microclimate around the millponds. The heron seems to be back in residence; at  least he was there at the water’s edge yesterday and today.

Well, it seems that President Trump has got his Nobel Peace Prize medal after all. I read that the Venezuelan opposition leader, María Corina Machado had suggested that they should share the prize but the Nobel people said that was impossible. So now she has presented the medal to President Trump who seems pleased and wrote on Truth Social that she “presented me with her Nobel peace prize for the work I have done. Such a wonderful gesture of mutual respect.” 

Not enough respect on his side to make her president of Venezuela but that’s how it goes.

The Nobel Peace Center said on social media that “a medal can change owners, but the title of a Nobel peace prize laureate cannot”. Political leaders in Norway have described Machado”s decision as “absurd”, accusing the US president of being a “classic showoff” who takes credit for other people’s work.

Political leaders in Norway have condemned the Venezuelan opposition leader María Corina Machado’s “absurd” decision to present her Nobel peace prize medal to Donald Trump, accusing the US president of being a “classic showoff” who takes credit for other people’s work.

It has always seemed to me that if you have to cheat and manoeuvre to get the prize then most of the glory has been taken away.

Here’s a link to a silly story about an absurd amount of money being spent to extradite a TikTok influencer with a silly name, HSTikkyTokky, from Spain to England where he has been convicted of dangerous driving. One wonders why he wasn’t just put on a standard flight, possible handcuffed to police officers instead of organising a private jet! Dangerous driving is a crime, being an influencer is not, in my opinion, a real profession, but there are worse things going on in the world that such huge amounts of money could be used for.

Last night I did something I have intended to do for a while: I hunted among our rather extensive collection of CDs for a collection of songs by the Spanish singer Ana Belén. This album also contained a DVD of her performances. I was looking specifically for her version of “Pequeño Vals Vienés”, a poem by Federico Garcia Lorca, translated and set to music by Leonard Cohen, with he title “Take this waltz”. Listening to Ana Belen’s version reveals how closely Leonard Cohen kept to the rhythm of the original poem. Leonard Cohen was a great admirer of the Spanish poet and named his daughter Lorca. 

Here is a link to Ana Belén singing and one to Leonard Cohen singing.

Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!

Getting up late. Hunger strikers. Saint Sylvester and odd customs. Wearable technology.

After getting up at the crack of dawn yesterday, today I snoozed and then ignored my alarm which was set for rather later. Hopefully I have now caught up with my sleep. However, despite it being rather later in the day than I intended, I did eventually get up and go for a run round the village. It was a beautifully fine morning but still cold, despite various weather apps assuring me it was about 5°. This relatively warmer temperature did not prevent the millponds on my route from still being partly frozen. And by early afternoon the cloud had moved in.

I read that the Palestine Action protestors/prisoners who have been on hunger strike while waiting for their cases to be dealt with have ended their hunger strike, which is a relief. Here is MP Zarah Sultana’s comment on that: 

“After 73 days on hunger strike, Palestine prisoners Heba, Kamran and Lewie have ended their protest, having pushed their bodies to the absolute limit alongside their fellow prisoners.

Their collective actions have achieved a major victory in the struggle against the arms trade, as Elbit Systems UK, Israel’s largest weapons manufacturer, has lost a £2 billion Ministry of Defence contract.

This fight is far from over: we demand immediate bail for all prisoners on remand, the deproscription of Palestine Action and an end to all arms sales to the genocidal apartheid state of Israel.

We continue to stand in solidarity with everyone resisting injustice, opposing genocide and this Labour government’s complicity, and fighting for a free Palestine — from the river to the sea 🇵🇸”

In this collection of photos in the Guardian I came across a photo of yodellers in Switzerland (where else?) taking part in Silvesterchlausen (St Sylvester’s Day festivities), a traditional custom where people chase away the old year and welcome the new one by traveling from farmstead to farmstead to yodel.

So I decided to investigate Saint Sylvester. It turns out he served as Pope from 314 to 335. Medieval legend says he was responsible for the conversion of Emperor Constantine, as well as curing him of leprosy. Was that enough to make him a saint? Goodness knows. He died, or at any rate was buried, on December 31st, New Year’s Eve, and many Western churches celebrate him in their various ways - such as yodelling in silly costumes, it seems. 

In Vienna they walk pigs on leashes as a way of ensuring good luck for the coming year. 

Some households in Germany follow the custom of “Bleigiessen”, using Silvesterblei (Silvester lead)  is melted over a flame in an old spoon and dropped into a bowl of cold water; one's fortune for the coming year is determined by the shape of the lead. If the lead forms a ball (der Ball), luck will roll one's way, while the shape of a star (der Stern) signifies happiness. No odder, I suppose, than the British “first footing” according to which the first person through the door on New Year’s Day should have dark hair and bring coal, to ensure warmth in the house, and bread, to ensure enough food for the coming year. In my childhood it was always my mother, the dark haired parent, who had to go out of the back door, coal and bread in hand, and knock on the front door to be welcomed in by the family!

However, some Israelis consider Pope Sylvester to have been an antisemite and therefore do not celebrate Sylvester or New Year’s Eve, having their own Rosh Hashanah celebrations in September or October. And January Ist is just another working day as a rule. In 2014, a report by a wearable technology manufacturer found that an average of 33% of Israelis went to bed before midnight on 31 December.

Now, there’s a nice bit of terminology: “wearable technology” - defined as “small electronic devices with wireless communications technology designed to be worn on the human body”. Well, that’s one way of looking at it but in fact it’s been around in one form or another since long before the internet was even conceived of. 

In the 1500s, German inventor Peter Henlein (1485–1542) created small watches that were worn as necklaces. A century later, pocket watches grew in popularity as waistcoats became fashionable for men. Wristwatches were created in the late 1600s but were worn mostly by women as bracelets.

Pedometers were developed around the same time as pocket watches. The concept of a pedometer was described by Leonardo da Vinci (clever bloke much ahead of his time, possible a time-traveller?) around 1500, and the Germanic National Museum in Nuremberg has a pedometer in its collection from 1590.

In the late 1800s, the first wearable hearing aids were introduced.

In 1904, aviator Alberto Santos-Dumont pioneered the modern use of the wristwatch.

We could go on and on! Wearable technology - something we have always made use of.

Perhaps nothing is ever completely new.

Life goes on, stay safe and well everyone!