Tales from a road #1

I’m reading Bukowski and it’s like a rich Christmas cake at my grandmothers table. 

I’m reading Covid tales of Stockholm syndrome typed by chickens pecking at a keyboard. 

Somewhere out in the grey morning lights go on, cocks crow, and other lights go off. 

Jessica dies, I’m sad that she couldn’t hold.

In Bristol zoo a gorilla cradles her newborn child and so life goes on. 

And on.

Curious Under Some Stars (A Dark Arts Post - July 2020)

A little streak of illumination eludes me. Comet Neowise is hiding behind high noctilucent clouds. I’m out for a second date with my shy companion. Neowise is an infrequent visitor to the mountain, last seen here around the time of the earliest use of papyrus to make record. Tweaked by a trick of mass distorting space, it will soon go unseen for the best part of seven thousand years. Unless of course humans spread out to meet it halfway. Anyway we had a chat last night, posed for pictures and then went separate ways. Tonight we glimpsed each other between a twitch of net and curtain and I waited at the bus stop for a speculative hour.

Possibly The Last Post

Mountaineers!
If I whisper a secret do you think that you can hold it close to your chests? Can you keep it for me? Can you guard it safe?
I hope you might.

I have opened Pandora’s box you see….

Eh?? Oh no not that again. I am not talking about the phone thing again. No no no. Bigger than that I think!

I have cast aside the old bow rope. I have slipped the mooring. I am off on an adventure.

I have lived and worked in North Wales for thirty two years now. Barring Accidents, I shall not quite make it for the thirty third.

Next September I exchange the rural idyll of Hallett’s Mountain for the streets that are reputed to be paved with gold.

Coming soon.

Notes From Hallett’s London


Mae'r e-bost hwn ac unrhyw atodiadau iddo yn gyfrinachol ac wedi eu bwriadu i sylw'r derbynnydd a enwir yn unig. Gallai'r neges fod yn cynnwys gwybodaeth freintiedig. Os yw wedi eich cyrraedd ar ddamwain, ni ddylech ei gopïo, na'i ddosbarthu neu ddangos y cynnwys i unrhyw un, yn hytrach dylech gysylltu â'r sawl a'i danfonodd ar unwaith.

Cold Comforts

As the buffet was presented to the assembled masses I realised that fate had indeed dealt a cruel trick.

And so, as so often before, let me rewind.

I am attending a celebration in my local council chamber.
I represent my school as we gain a prestigious award.
An award showing what a healthy workplace we are.
For three years we have filled in forms showing all the healthy things we do.
Some of us go to the gym. Others cycle to work. A couple have given up smoking. A water cooler has been installed as a refreshing alternative to the tar like black coffee trap. Healthy snacks and fruit have replaced cakes and chocolates, though here with the same hand chocolates have been introduced as a reward and promotion of relaxation and thus staff well being…..a healthy workplace is complicated.
We have corresponded with outside organisations. We have promoted moderation in all things and wisdom in our interactions.
Tonight, along with others, we are declared a ‘Healthy Workplace’ and the Welsh Assembly Government presents yours truly as a representative member of staff with the badge of honour. A propitious occasion worthy of celebration.
Much clapping, fine words and mutual congratulation. We were all very pleased.
We were also very pleased to stay on afterwards for the thoughtfully provided celebratory get together.

I don’t think though that I was the only crestfallen soul when I saw the feast prepared. I was anticipating vol au vonts, sausage rolls, cheesy things on sticks, cold meats of various origin, quiches, chicken legs, maybe crisps of perhaps a chip or two, cheesecakes and chocolatey biscuits, fresh rolls and yellow butter. Even a glass of something. What do you think the table was graced by?

Carrot batons, celery sticks, incredibly small tomatoes. Crispbreads. Fruits chopped and whole. Juices and water……….

Phtah! You can take this healthy living business too far you know.

Not Waving But……

How many of you recognize the snippet quoted I wonder?
All weekend I have been feeling a little out of my depth.....
...All weekend? Well no not all weekend in truth.
I remember some years ago helping a couple of fine fellows who worked for Carmathenshire County Council install a chimney liner. While they took a brief weekend over the whole thing, I remember thinking at the time that there was no great mystery revealed. Given a following wind I could manage that.
As I may have mentioned before I have never seen a lack of prior experience on my own part as prejudicial to flinging my hat in to the ring.
Secure in myself I have been carving up the Gable end wall of Hallett's Mountain in search of a chimney.
Inside the barn large holes, holes that might make lesser souls quail,Holes that a structural engineer migh have batted an eylid at, have appeared. I have gradually hacked and chopped all weekend until I have finally got the majority of a gap made all the way to the pot. In this flue I intend now to install a chimney liner that I will backfill with vermiculite cement and various reinforcing members (steady on now it is only a word).
I had not a care and was quite confident. I live in the best of all possible worlds and optimism is my current middle Monica.
Then.
All of a sudden.
She Of The Townhouse mentioned building regulations………
.......Fiddle Faddle.

fANTastic

In my secret life, the work that I can only hint at here dear reader because so much of it is confidential, we have been having fun.
Some of the Hallett's Mountain ants have been carefully scooped up. Brushed into a small Tupperware container with a soft paintbrush, and introduced to the ant-o-sphere.
All week we have followed their Antics with rapt attention.

Count Your Chickens

The warmth of the early spring and the abundant supply of easy food both surrounding and inside the bird feeders has attracted some unwelcome attention from squirrels here on Hallett's Mountain. They have only made it this far up once before in my tenure and that some time back in the last century. This year however there are at least two and possibly more.
I can’t tell squirrels apart of course and have never seen them as a pair.
I know there are a minimum of two though because one of them is a consummate expert at dodging to the left.
The other one tasted a little bit like chicken……

The illustration is the ever growing hole in my wall as I search for the chimney....
I didn't feel I could use a squirrel picture....