Sparrow Talk

suburban garden archaeology + note on IE8 abberation

Seeds sprouting, seeds rotting, seeds stagnating: mould growing, mould receding, even mould mouldering; rotting seeds fermenting: tufts; of sundry grasses, sucking the life out of deeper embedded seeds, weeds devouring weeds, layer upon layer of short-span history. There's something seedy about all of these lawn borders, wherever the bird feeding stations have been placed and / or removed..

Left untended, it's as if we have the layers within years (or even months) that human archaeology requres centuries for.

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I'd already posted this on 'Mal's Murmurings' but thought I'd just add it here, in the hope that a new posting may resolve the problem with this particular blog's display in IE8 (whereby the Header 'False Dawn',on 27 September 2009, was followed by the text of my posting from 22August 2009 - originally headed 'Theme & Variations'. All other postings between 21 August 2009 and the present day failed to appear. When viewed in Firefox all the postings appear).

P.S. 7.36pm: Strangely this post appears in IE8 but, the aforementioned aberration persists. TO VIEW THIS PARTICULAR BLOG I RECOMMEND ANY BROWSER OTHER THAN INTERNET EXPLORER!

FALSE DAWN

Yesterday morning, bright sunshine greeted my emergence into day and, most unusually I was feeling wide awake long before 9.00AM; the general rule is that a state akin to wide awake is rarely [even half-heartedly] achieved by yours truly before 10.45AM! I even felt that my nights sleep had been of a refreshing variety, despite my having run two marathons in one day before getting lost in the centre of an unknown town, unable to find the loos. Dreams are certainly peculiar things!

How could I account for a good nights sleep, dream sequences notwithstanding ; the only aid I could think of was having partaken of an extra shot of macchiato at the Café Culture the preceding afternoon. Now there's a paradox!

Anyway, whatever the reason, this unusually early alertness continued throughout the morning, relatively pain and ache free [a most unusual ante meridian experience]. By late morning I was ready for a walk down to Waitrose with my beloved; the walk entails a 15 minute stretch along the Leeds Road before taking the tree-lined footpath across the stray, approx 7 minutes, and a further 5 minutes in the direction of the town centre. That's one helluva long exercise for me but, I managed it and, even enjoyed the walk back home.

All went well with the day until early evening, when an excruciating sense of despairing helplessness overwhelmed me, the sheer pointlessness of everything. The cause for that dramatic change; I'd started wondering how the hell I could get the tax people to sort out one of my pension providers who tax me on every penny even though, all other incomes having been taken into account, I have a further £3 ½ grand tax free allowance. I've never been averse to paying tax but, having completed endless forms, both prior and subsequent to attaining state pension age, no progress has been made on this front! [The pettiness of the issue is that the monthly payment is a mere £62 gross and I'm having £13 take away in tax each month – but when one feels shattered the whole issue takes on gargantuan proportions].

Even my preparation of the main course for Sunday lunch – always pre-prepared on Saturday evening – held no pleasure for me and, subsequent telly-gawping proved absolutely disastrous. The Vile Twins [that's not their stage name by the way] getting through the first stage of boot camp [we're talking X Factor here] made me quite apoplectic; if ever there was a case to be made for abortion, or even euthanasia, these twin contestants are it. Before their miraculous advance, I'd already declared that their advancement would sufficient to prove that there is no god, no evolution either for that matter!

A further cause of my general sense of irritating helplessness is the constant petty bitching experienced on all of the ME sites run by fellow ME sufferers; no wonder that no progress is being made. Doubtless the condition is a physical neurological one, of possibly viral origin, even though the vested interests of medical insurers and pharmacological industries are more than happy to support the psychologizers arguments.

Where my fellow sufferers find the stamina to continue with their virulent nit-picking squabbles is a mystery to me! I suspect that part of the problem is, by its extremely debilitating nature, this neurological ailment tends to breed a kind of re-active depression. Certainly, in my case, the onset of ME also found (or produced) a far more deep-rooted tetchiness than had been apparent as part my nature for the preceding decades.

Basically, I'm just a little pissed off and you, my dear readers, are the outflows recipients. This morning, my naggingly aching body, had to be forcibly removed from the duvet realm by a sheer effort of will. It seems like I'm almost back to normal.

Meanwhile on Mal's Factory

My most recent posting on my poetry weblog features a video - Twittering Garden, the occasion of which was a prompt for the poem Garden Paradox

MAL's FACTORY - Poetry & Prose Poems: Garden Paradox - Twittering Garden http://bit.ly/qAYvE

Hypocrisy Runs Riot - a little rant

Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve not been feeling particularly well for the past few days or, it could quite simply be that I’ve rediscovered my sceptical roots; whatever is the case, the news has left me with little to rejoice about.

Superficially, the nuclear weapons non-proliferation agreement at the UN should be a cause for rejoicing but, as one who has constantly campaigned for unilateral disarmament, I find little to celebrate in the agreement. Hypocrisy runs riot.

We offer a meaningless reduction in our arsenal and, simultaneously, threaten further sanctions against Iran (though not by name) should it continue to develop these “weapons of mass destruction”. It seems so strange that our politicians, in defending our nuclear weapons, have always referred to them as a “deterrent” but, should anyone else want them they become weapons of mass destruction.

If they are a deterrent, we should urge every nation to stockpile them; if every nation has a deterrent then, surely, there’s even less chance of a war. But, of course, the argument goes on to wonder what would happen if tactical nuclear devices should fall into the hands of “terrorists”; mind you there’s rarely a mention of the terrorist state of Israel having these same weapons. However we look at it, the admission has been made that they offer no deterrence to terrorism, indeed – they pose perhaps an even greater terrorist threat.

We are constantly being told that “terrorism” is the biggest threat we face yet, we insist on maintaining and enhancing our useless nuclear defence systems at a cost of untold billions of pounds. The more nuclear devices that are in existence, the greater the chance of a terrorist getting hold of them. It may be Obama’s greatest dream to have a nuclear free-world, why not make a start by destroying the existing stockpiles; I have no time for dreamers when they could be doing something practical!

Another news item is the American military’s development of a vaccine against AIDS. It comes as no real surprise that the military are working on this; in fact I’ve always suspected that the disease began as a germ warfare experiment that somehow got out of control!

There’s currently a fuss about sexist ageism at the BBC and a call being made for some female newsreaders over the age of 50 to be employed. I’ve yet to see a newsreader that is severely facially disfigured, or who has a speech impediment; come to that, do we have any newsreaders who suffer visibly from a major physical handicap? Where are the calls for these people to be represented? It would be good to have a newsreader who doesn’t sound like a representative of (that mythical) middle-England for that matter!

All the male newsreaders appear to be compulsive tie-wearers; where is the outcry? Surely there should be demands for a member of the non tie-wearing culture to be permitted to perform this hallowed duty!

Gosh; I feel much better now.

juvenile goldfinch - my latest video

juvenile goldfinch

Mal's Turnaround

Today's blog posting, Food, Drink and Gardening - a little more upbeat than yesterday's post - can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'.

the impossible is slightly difficult

Some things are just so difficult to explain that one just goes on with life, as best one can, unable to share their "different" experience of "normal" everyday activities. Some chronic conditions, even in their relatively moderate forms, can have the most devastating impact in terms of isolation; the combination of pain, sensory-overload - both auditory and visual (and the accompanying agitation and frustration) as well as an excruciating fatigue (caused by unrefreshing sleep patterns) are quite simply impossible to explain to anyone who has not been there and, together, they conspire to prevent much normal socializing!

Even when the worst symptoms are in some kind of remission, my coping mechanism has hardly returned to it's pre-illness state. There are times when, on a social outing, one feels they are going to explode in response to the immediate environmental activity - be it talking, music, lighting, or quite simply the presence of too many other bodies - then comes the difficult task of making one's "excuse" to depart early from the event.

Frequently I notice concerts, gigs, exhibitions etc that I'd like to attend but, I feel unable to pre-book ( even in my current reasonably well phase) as I'm never sure whether I will have the necessary physical and/or emotional stamina to cope come the day! Even when there's no requirement to pre-book, if an admission fee is involved it always seems an incredibly extravagant outlay bearing in mind that, in all likelihood, I will be ready to leave (unable to stay the course) whilst the event is still in progress. At the recent farewell party for the local vicar, it was amazing to be able to sustain concentration for that part of the entertainment I managed to cope with. My recent visit to Liverpool was a different experience altogether when I wasn't "up to" attending any of the exhibitions I hoped to see, or even dining out at a restaurant in close proximity to the inn where we were staying.

I am blessed in obtaining so much satisfaction from spending time in the garden, watching the avian activity, taking photos and videos etc., playing about on the PC, painting and writing as and when urge and stamina are in sync. I've become, in the process a contented homebird! On many occasions I'm able to manage a short walk but, even that activity has its own little idiosyncracies. This afternoon I took a little walk, at a somewhat slower pace than my recent norm; as I tried to speed up it seemed as if the lower limbs hydraulics were in serious need of an oil change; each movement required a conscious effort, as if I was required to lift my feet from some kind of cloying quicksand. And that was on, what had earlier seemed, a "better" day.

I have no desire to be a Moaning Minnie, it's just that I wanted to try and share something of that which I deemed, at the outset, to be impossible.

The Young Visitor

juvenile goldfinch on Nyjer seed feeder
(click on image to view larger version)

This young visitor, to our garden, kindly allowed me to observe his/her feeding activity from a distance of two feet.

Mal's Mysteries

The Unfathomable Fantail Mystery ... can be found on 'Mal's Murmurings'