troglodyte nation

It's hard to write this post now. Yesterday, as I walked the dog along the Monarch's Way, the faint sound of traffic finally petering out until only the wind and my squeaky left boot filled me ears, it seemed an easy task. The words came readily as I imagined them being typed into the blog. But in my room, in front of the laptop, I feel despondency clouding over my thoughts. I want to be outdoors.

Being off ''work'' I've learned a few things about myself. I'm obviously an outdoors guy. It began in January when I dug the soil over in my coat, and through until May when I'd gradually stripped down to the waist. I have been in the rain and not minded, I am learning to read the weather, I have noticed the change in wild flowers, and I have developed a bronzed look without going through the redness and pain phase. Working on the allotment, being around to witness and experience, constantly, the outdoors, just seems so astoundingly natural to me. Is that ironic; being in nature being natural? Not really. So what happened?

I am aware it'll be necessary to return to ''work'' for financial reasons, and this would mean office work, ''business as usual''. This saddens me. I wish I was a farmer but that's not likely to be: I was brought up in ghastly suburbia. I'm not kidding myself farming isn't harder work than most urbanites would know but there is the knowledge and I don't have that, not just the ''how to'' knowledge but the all important instinctive and spiritual knowledge that country people have through generations. Whereas, I am urbanite. Like 90% of all humans, I live, work, and think indoors. I am a member of the great troglodyte nation.

Maybe I could become a postman...

love and hate

I hate the weather forecast. It's hopeless. It causes me to make the wrong decisions. It's supposed to rain today, it's art class this morning and I hesitated long enough to find myself on route in the car, looking at the road, looking at the sky, thinking it wasn't too bad, convincing myself it would rain come home time. But it didn't. And it still hasn't. I could have cycled after all, damn it!

But I love the new library. Despite it's hat-tip to modernity, it's seeming lack of book-shelves, and its confusing sections, for instance, IT manuals stacked below a sign which clearly says ''philosophy''. They've streamlined and automated much of the work of the librarians which means you don't have to queue. You can collect your requested books and log them out yourself, you can log them back in, and renew them too - I've just done this while the car sat on the double yellows (something I hate doing but all the short stay spaces were occupied and I wished I'd had my bike). Anyway, in and out in under five minutes. Love it!

People Matter

I began reading E.F. Schumacher, Small Is Beautiful: A Study Of Economics As If People Mattered, today. I requested it from the new library; it was in central storage and took some time to track down, I don't expect it gets much of an airing. It's a book I think I should have read in the 70s but I didn't know of it then. The writing is of that period, quite text-bookish, not the chatty, let-me-explain, easy style of most recent books on ''serious'' issues. I find myself going over paragraphs again, getting into the style; often it seems to be written for economists: there's jargon and terms I can only guess at the meaning and he has an annoying habit of putting many terms in inverted commas.
Despite this the overall message so far is familiar. There's even parallel sentiments I recognise from The Ragged Trousered Phil. Just how far back does this wisdom go? And why hadn't I noticed then, and why are people not noticing still? The so called ''Business As Usual'', I guess.

the pleasure of Feynman

Posting the James Lovelock interview earlier reminded me of a favourite video; Richard Feynman on The Pleasure of Finding Things Out. Feynman was a physicist who had worked on developing the atomic bomb, and on quantum mechanics and quantum electrodynamics. In 1965 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Physics. He was a captivating lecturer and I can see how in this programme. As you can see in this clip, he also liked to draw portraits.

It's the first part of a five-part video of an original broadcast in 1981 by BBC Horizon (about 50 minutes altogether). Follow the link to YouTube, it's worth watching the whole programme.

public library

I am difficult to impress. It is something I've hated about myself for as long as I remember. It has caused me to seem an ungrateful boy at Christmas and, later in life, to be misinterpreted as 'cool', aloof, dull, miserable, and on occasion antisocial. I'm pretty sure I'm none of these things for most of the time.

You should never read an autobiography of someone you don't know from a bar of soap. I borrowed Roger Scruton's, Gentle Regrets from the newly revamped town library expecting it to be as stimulating and enlightening as the Lovelock book I had just finished. I suppose it didn't cost me anything. Well, no more than I would have to pay for the service even if I didn't use it. But I did wonder why I was spending time on it when I'd also borrowed Steinbeck's East of Eden. It felt like a moment when you take a seat on a bus and the stranger next to you starts telling you his life story - yes, exactly like that! - and it's irrelevant and meaningless, and you just want to look out the window and enjoy the familiar and real meaning of the journey.

At this point, you could simply change seats or stand, but that would appear rude so you get off before your stop because waiting for the next bus, even in the cold and rain, is better than this. With a book, a book from the library, you simply return it early. God, I do love the public library!
~

I borrowed a third book that day. (Three seems to be a natural number.) It was John Humphrys' Beyond Words: How Language Reveals the Way We Live Now. It was well written and convincing but I found I agreed far too easily and was bored with the cause before chapter three was over. Never mind, I was heading for the library anyway...