Guitar blues

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So I’ve decided to take my guitar out of its case for the first time in many years…It’s my New Year’s resolution to learn several songs from start to finish before the year’s up.   To help me, I’ve employed a guitar teacher and so far, things are looking positive!  Though if you’ve ever played a guitar, you’ll know that until your fingers are used to it, it can be somewhat painful!

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Risotto nights

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I’ve just come to the end of my 365 photography project – a challenging year for creativity. Now that it’s over, I feel obliged to focus a bit more on my drawing so I’m tentatively starting a doodle a day for 2016.  The drawings will be rough and ready and I probably won’t post all of the images, instead, I’ll just share a select few, like this one!

Risotto-nights

Guilt

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Sometimes my daily routine floods me with guilt.  Guilt for the impact I’m having on the environment.  I spent seven years working in the sector, bossing (yes ‘bossing’ – I know, hard to believe eh?) people around because I wanted everyone to sit up and listen. I’d tell them to recycle because in the UK we produce enough waste to fill the Albert Hall every two hours. I’d run around switching lights off after everyone and chastising people if they didn’t turn their computer off after a day’s work.   For those seven years, I was told that the tipping point was coming – the point when the detrimental impact of human society on the planet would reach the point of no return.   I would get upset because people couldn’t see beyond today.   I left that job.  I left it because I felt helpless.

These days I still boss people around and harp on about the penguins, polar bears and climate change – people think I’m odd.  I also carry a lot of guilt around because my daily routine still leaves a massive footprint!

Guilt

 

Coffee time ballet

The kitchen at work is tiny.  There’s an unwritten ‘cat swinging’ rule which stipulates one must NOT swing one’s cat, unless of course you no longer want it.

Peak times in the kitchen are challenging. The first hurdle is how many people dare to enter at the same time?  Most people will stop at 5, which is far too many in my opinion. The hot water boiler is located on one side of the kitchen and the fridge on the other, which means there’s a high degree of toing and froing and an increased risk of scalding someone as you manoeuvre your coffee from one side to the other.  The coffee-making flow is interrupted when more than one person is in the kitchen, but when there are five caffeine starved people, it’s like one of those sliding puzzles… or indeed an intricate modern dance!

kitchen dance

Fringe superheroes!

This is one of those ‘you had to be there’ moments, but I’ll tell you anyway.  A colleague of mine managed to get a fishbone stuck under his fingernail, causing it to go septic.  This sparked a rather raucous conversation about the fish equivalent of Spiderman.    It started out as Sardine Man, with the ability to fit into tight spaces but I thought Mackerel Man had a better ring to it (and theme tune).

mackerel man

Portaloos

Having recently been to a music festival, this situation is fresh in my mind.   Using a portaloo is one of my biggest fears and one of the reasons I rarely do weekend festivals. The dark, dingy box which is too small to manoeuvre without touching edges that shouldn’t be touched.  Too dark to be sure whether the liquid substance you brushed against was ‘water’ – undoubtedly not but I try not to think about it.

They are inevitably lack toilet paper so the person before you who didn’t think about taking in a handful of ’emergency loo roll’ has had to use a paper towel instead (if they have one) and that is now stuck in the bowl.  And the smell….oh the smell…

well anyway… it made me draw this picture.

Portaloo

Monsieur Squirrel

Squirrels have been a regular sight this holiday! Our campsite was besieged by them and our holiday cottage is frequented by a family of fat, quarrelsome squizzels searching for a tid bit or two! We even spotted one making off with an entire baguette (not ours I might add), he could hardly run straight under the weight! 

I wasn’t aware baguettes were part of a squirrel’s diet…perhaps he was French?