Nature – it gets everywhere…

birds escher
The Grindstone is supposed to be a building site. Unfortunately somebody forgot to put up an eviction notice in ‘birdy-beasty talk’.
It was like a nature reserve at work today – swifts flying into the house and doing their swoopy, swifty flitting nonsense. Giant bumble bees droning their clumsy flight paths into anything that doesn’t move. Then there’s the nesting tweeters in a hole in the living room wall – whose warbling parents are constantly flying back and forth with squelchy looking grubs and caterpillars to regurgitate to their sproglets. Following suit are the family of blue tits in the new brickwork for the bathroom. Thats before we get onto the geckos, the skinks, the bees, ants, butterflies and dragonflies.
There is nature everywhere – it’s just growing all over the place. Sod off! I’m trying to get on with my work!

So when my clients wonder why there are small holes in and out of every room and there are nesting boxes above the TV and the bathroom mirror – it’s due to the current occupants – who seem to be ignoring all official paperwork…

I didn’t surf today. But I did get close to nature.

Paperbuilder…

A builder stuck on the beaches of Portugal.

woody

Penfold loved his work – mixing cement with spades, cutting wooden things with saws, carrying large heavy things from one pile and then stacking them up in a different one with tired and bleeding hands. It was this joy that would awake him every morning with a spring in his step and a twinkle in his slightly miopic eye. But life can be a fickle creature that maliciously tosses metaphorical sticks in your spokes. For now he was caught in an endless web of confusion and despair.
Sleep, eat, surf, sleep, eat and more surf. There seemed no end to the nightmare. Just this morning he found himself tearing down the line on his Fatum fish, spray flying off the lip, the sun glinting across his gracefully balding cranium. Then beyond that drudgery all that was left was loitering around the beach eating large fresh salady baps and drinking freshly squeezed orange juice. With ice.
I can’t tell you how Penfold deals with this tragedy only that he is a greater man than I…

Penfold surfed today but only because they made him do it…

Test results…

stairs

– what do you mean it’s in the wrong frickin’ place?
(they turned out nice in the end…)

As we neglected to stay in bed on Mayday and continued the arduous regime at the grindstone I’ve called time and thrown everyone out ’til Tuesday. The incoming swell on the west coast is just a happy coincidence (?) So I shall rest my weary bones this evening then head for the beach on the morrow for huge amounts of lounging and surfing. I may even venture out after dark and stick a cocktail or two inside me and attempt to get sly on the dancefloor.

Life can seem harsh at times but you just have to struggle through…

I didn’t surf today but I considered the option carefully…

Bored…

Work sucks.

It’s no substitute for real life – I don’t know why everybody is obsessed with doing it all day everyday ad infinitum till the cows come home for ever and ever amen…

– and it’s raining. A lot. Really wet rain.

I also have a tiny splinter in my finger that hurts a bit.

If I think of anything else to whinge about like a big girl’s wendy house I shall make the necessary amendments later in my comments…

No I didn’t bloody surf today – thanks for asking though!

Ouch I stubbed my brain…

brain

I can’t remember the last time I used the ‘maths’ part of my brain. I fear atrophy is rife. A small withered lump of dry gristle now dwells where a toned rippling muscle once stood tall.
Armed with a piece of paper, a tape measure, a big pile of timber and a scientific calculator my mission was simple – measure a big square hole and fill it with a staircase.
The measuring was a breeze – snappy and stylish – even the occassional flourish in tape measure handling. What a pro.
Tools out – superb. Saw bench, router, various set squares and honing devices – looking good.
Then I picked up the paper and the calculator and all went quiet – I think a synapse had snapped – my brain had stalled.

Nothing. Nada. Zip – diddly squat. Bugger.

The difficulty was the ‘fan’ at the top. Four stairs turning through 90 degrees – like a quarter of a spiral staircase.
Where was Tiggz when I needed him? He used to be the fine fettler of all things wooden. This would be when I would delegate with great efficiency and wander off looking for something manly to do….

Tea… that would help. Pencil sharpening – also a good thing. A dull thud at the back of my head and a distant memory of someone called Pythagorus. Hypotenueses and square roots. More tea and a sit down. Cripes.
Slowly a dim shape formed in my mind – a three dimensional image of lines and numbers. Layers of dust and grime fell away revealing ancient memories of technical drawing and trigonometry that have been dormant for years.

The lines and numbers started to solidify under my newly sharpened pencil and slowly a plan took shape. At this point the well excercised ‘tool-handling’ section of my cerebellum took over and I could relax into production mode.
I’m not sure if the maths department is something that I want to awaken very often but it’s good to know that it will still fire up if the need arises (even if it could do with a few sessions at the gym!)…

I didn’t surf today but I did math!

Two bees or not two bees…

Einstein (obviously a genius in and out of the surf) was allegedly heard muttering a somewhat sweeping statement about the state of the universe during an all night drinking binge in a Yates wine lodge in Preston high street. His mouth was slightly tainted with extra hot chillies from a rather tired looking doner kebab that was dribbling down his chin onto his previously starchy white lab coat – so take this with a pinch of salt…

“If the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe then man would only have four years of life left. No more bees, no more pollination, no more plants, no more animals, no more man.”

It has recently been said that – on the subject of mobile phones killing entire colonies of bees (probably by a descendant of Einstein caught in a toilet cubicle in a westend night spot with a suspiciously thin model – both seemingly suffering from hayfever…)

“Scientists claim radiation from handsets are to blame for mysterious ‘colony collapse’ of bees”

– meaning that any moment now we shall all die.

Don’t Panic!

We have taken this on board and conducted our own experiment to disprove this theory. At work we came across a large rather busy nest of the afore mentioned pollen gathering buzzy beasts. The nest needed to be moved but rather than destroy it and kill hundreds of otherwise harmless pollinating friends my chief biologist (AD) installed a mobile phone next to the colony for a scientifically designated perod of time (until the battery ran out).

The next day the bees were nowhere to be seen. Upon closer inspection of their tiny empire they were found to be still at home but in a state of catatonia – now, this may have been a complete coincidence and been due to the weather or a stage in their activity cycle. I personally feel that the microwaves sent their tiny heads into a state of euphoric torpor resulting in a certain amount of lethargy and a tendency towards social paranoia –

Bee one – are you gonna go outside today man?

Bee two – are you kidding dude, have you seen how big it is out there? And how high up we are? Nah…

Bee one – go on man I need some fresh pollen…

Bee two – yeah but I heard…

Bee one – wassup man? What did you hear…?

Bee two – I heard that it’s been scientifically proven that we can’t even fly!

Bee one – shit man, you’re freakin’ kidding! Well there’s no way I’m going out then…

I didn’t surf today. Look at the surf convoy

Turned on at last…

heatwave

It seems somebody has flicked the summer switch at last. It’s getting hot.
The bonuses are obvious – no more woodstove nonsense, longer days for work achievement and job satisfaction, pleasant evenings al fresco eating fresh, healthy salads and sipping exquisite vinhos. And other good stuff.

However there are some downs. The pheremonal output of the lads at the grindstone seems to be accelerating and although this might tickle Nurse Myra’s fancy (and the thought of her uniform slipping off is indeed very therapeutic) the funk of a sweaty labourer does not move me in mysterious ways.

I may have to reiterate the union rules once more with an amendment re: crack exposure.
As an exposed pair of sweaty red cheeks is now strictly forbidden and a sackable offence.

AD brought chocolate donuts for a mid-morning comestible today – I’m sure you don’t need to know in which direction the banter delved…

I didn’t surf today.

A bit creaky…

rusty camper

Well another splendid day at grindstone central has been and gone with nothing involving CPR or insurance claims – Dylan is currently welded to the Nintendo and I’m sitting at the computer feeling a tad creaky. I spent the day nailgunning floorboards to joists and I’m fairly sure that the last time I did this I didn’t feel quite so stiff at the end of the day. It won’t be long before I’m borrowing one of Daddy P’s zimmer frames.

Most of today’s amusement was supplied trying to remember various 80’s artists and their relevant hits. For example – which all girl UK combo sang ‘Iko Iko’ and ‘Sign of the times’ and which brother from Bros went on to play an evil vampire in Blade III? These are very important and probing questions into areas of vital historical fact.
Obviously these sorts of questions would normally be categorised as ‘trivia’ but I like to think of them as essential knowledge and when armed with such any days activity – no matter how mundane can be enhanced immensely.

Of course these highbrow discussions normally dissolve into talk of norks and arses – not far to fall really I suppose…

I didn’t surf today. Fancy a surf trip? Look here