Mr Zzzzzzzzzz

I'm just so knackered all the time lately, yet perversely keep pushing myself. Have realised that if I get up early I can wander around the antiques market then get to work roughly on time on a friday morning. I did this today, saw nothing of interest though. We had medieval archers playing with their weapons at work. I also got offered a job demonstrating some pottery at the "collection" (Lincoln city museum) ...I'll take it! I think I'm currently having a massive mid life crisis and panic attack on account of it being my 40th birthday in a month. This is bizarre as it's just a number and after all , i'm still a teenager on the inside,...yet I still have a feeling of time ticking away.

Go Progress!

Our garden is finally progressing; into a garden, away from what was essentially a repository of 1970's concrete and rockery stone. It really was quite a health and safety nightmare, raised beds made from pre formed concrete and stone, filled with very dated seasonal planting, mainly summery cottage garden sweet icky gack.

The conifer which got chainsawed last year has finally had its roots removed after a surgical digging operation ending in more chainsaw activity then a day of backfilling the hole. Sam was very good at helping in these activities, although he wasn't to happy about grandads chainsawing. The hole has now been turfed over but not before I committed a few bits of ceramics to the ground ( and the gods!) as is my superstition. I've buried flutes in all the houses I've resided for future generations to unearth and think "what the...".

The ghost of Queen Ingrid

The thing is with the internet, I'm increasingly finding... is the past keeps resurfacing through various routes, all virtual. It's all a little disconcerting, it's like history on a loop, a perpetual reminder of things past and irretrievable, yet sometimes quite desirable. Sometimes quite forgettable, but never regrettable. I shouldn't say things, it's not things, it's people, people who pop up from the murky soup of the past and make me question the flavour of my croutons (ok, i'm pushing the metaphors here but so what, it's my blog). Ingrid was one of my very first female aquaintainces. I've only stumbled upon her in cyberspace through a friend of a friend, connecting past lives (as I too have done). The weird thing, which is really not weird at all, is that all these people have lives and children, (most older than mine). In my mind they are all frozen in 1989. I have frozen them there, where I left them, quite abruptly and looking back, quite ruthlessly.