Friday, July 04, 2008
Fascias
Have restarted painting the fascia boards, having stopped for the winter more than six months ago. Now maybe only a week away from finishing them. Next stop the extension - for its second painting since we have been here. Amazing the amount of time that abandoning the allotments has freed up!
And now for a geographic Eureka moment. South American geography has always been a bit of a problem for me, but I have now come across a solution, which goes as follows. South America consists mainly of a triangular Brazil. To the north and west Brazil is bounded by a ring of smaller, round countries, starting with French Guiana in the north east and ending with Uruguay in the south. To the east is the ocean. The bottom of the continent is two long thin countries, Chile to the west and Argentina, rather fatter, to the east. All quite straightforward now. Leaving aside the minor anomalies that Argentina separates Paraguay and Uruguay and that Peru and Columbia join forces to prevent Equador making it to Brazil. The only remaining puzzle is to find out the basis on which the Pope, whose geography was probably worse than mine, divided the continent between the Spanish and the Portuguese. Which bits speak Portuguese apart from Brazil?
Three dreams to report. There is not much to say about the first. I just woke up feeling very anxious in a very Chinese (or possibly Japanese) flavoured way. The story behind this East Asian anxiety was completely missing. All very frustrating.
The second has a bit more body. Driving a white van to pick up some building materials left over from a job. Not sure which of two houses along the road it was so called at both to be on the safe side. Then, on getting back into the van, found the dash covered in sheets of white A4 paper with someone else's scribbles all over them. Time to head off home. A bit anxious about driving as I had my big boots on, far to big to work the pedals with any safety. Headed off in a southerly direction, somewhere on the wrong side of London, a fictitious somewhere which I visit in dream from time to time. But this time there was an escape road, ahead on the right. Onto some sort of steel ramp, like those on ferries. To find a wall rising up in front of me. But it is only a sort of flap which can be pushed down by driving slowly into it. Then find myself going down a sort of concrete spiral with hairy hair pin bends. These underground precipices not good for the vertigo. Then suddenly emerge on a wide, well lit ramp heading up, rather like that when gets over the half way point in the Dartford tunnel. Then emerge into the sunlight, well on the way home. Wake up.
The third seems to be a conflation of various places and situations, all real. Something to do with the BH wangling an invitation to a dinner party, said to be for family and friends, but when we get there it turns out that we are the only friends. Why have we been invited? The large family involved seemed at times to be one family, at others a second or a third. They didn't seem to know why we were there either but the head, the mother, was very good about it. A kind and efficient hostess. Middle aged, had been good looking when young. The venue seemed to veer about as well. And sometimes there seemed to be a whole lot of down and outs at table, opposite me, sometimes not. Don't know much about what we were given to eat, beyond that it involved small lumps of turkey sitting on large rounds of soggy bread, rather like those large rounds of soggy Yorkshire pudding they serve sausages in up north. There were three or four very posh, untouched joints of turkey in the centre of the very crowded table. Each shaped like half (cross ways, not length ways) a rather pointed, shiny purple rugby ball. Perhaps a bit bigger than half a rugby ball. Also the shape of the blue and white crochet covers we have for boiled eggs. Lots of glasses and other table furniture. Sat next to a rather rude young doctor with little conversation. Large garden after the meal. Then onto a flat which had been allocated to us for the night. Young family allocated another on the same staircase.
After all these nocturnal traumas, off to inspect the moss garden to recover. The various sorts of moss continue to grow, slowly. Some of the shoots about an inch long now, sticking straight up in the sheltered environment. Various odd plants, very small. Various grasses, growing very slowly. Maybe they don't like the very damp environment.
And now for a geographic Eureka moment. South American geography has always been a bit of a problem for me, but I have now come across a solution, which goes as follows. South America consists mainly of a triangular Brazil. To the north and west Brazil is bounded by a ring of smaller, round countries, starting with French Guiana in the north east and ending with Uruguay in the south. To the east is the ocean. The bottom of the continent is two long thin countries, Chile to the west and Argentina, rather fatter, to the east. All quite straightforward now. Leaving aside the minor anomalies that Argentina separates Paraguay and Uruguay and that Peru and Columbia join forces to prevent Equador making it to Brazil. The only remaining puzzle is to find out the basis on which the Pope, whose geography was probably worse than mine, divided the continent between the Spanish and the Portuguese. Which bits speak Portuguese apart from Brazil?
Three dreams to report. There is not much to say about the first. I just woke up feeling very anxious in a very Chinese (or possibly Japanese) flavoured way. The story behind this East Asian anxiety was completely missing. All very frustrating.
The second has a bit more body. Driving a white van to pick up some building materials left over from a job. Not sure which of two houses along the road it was so called at both to be on the safe side. Then, on getting back into the van, found the dash covered in sheets of white A4 paper with someone else's scribbles all over them. Time to head off home. A bit anxious about driving as I had my big boots on, far to big to work the pedals with any safety. Headed off in a southerly direction, somewhere on the wrong side of London, a fictitious somewhere which I visit in dream from time to time. But this time there was an escape road, ahead on the right. Onto some sort of steel ramp, like those on ferries. To find a wall rising up in front of me. But it is only a sort of flap which can be pushed down by driving slowly into it. Then find myself going down a sort of concrete spiral with hairy hair pin bends. These underground precipices not good for the vertigo. Then suddenly emerge on a wide, well lit ramp heading up, rather like that when gets over the half way point in the Dartford tunnel. Then emerge into the sunlight, well on the way home. Wake up.
The third seems to be a conflation of various places and situations, all real. Something to do with the BH wangling an invitation to a dinner party, said to be for family and friends, but when we get there it turns out that we are the only friends. Why have we been invited? The large family involved seemed at times to be one family, at others a second or a third. They didn't seem to know why we were there either but the head, the mother, was very good about it. A kind and efficient hostess. Middle aged, had been good looking when young. The venue seemed to veer about as well. And sometimes there seemed to be a whole lot of down and outs at table, opposite me, sometimes not. Don't know much about what we were given to eat, beyond that it involved small lumps of turkey sitting on large rounds of soggy bread, rather like those large rounds of soggy Yorkshire pudding they serve sausages in up north. There were three or four very posh, untouched joints of turkey in the centre of the very crowded table. Each shaped like half (cross ways, not length ways) a rather pointed, shiny purple rugby ball. Perhaps a bit bigger than half a rugby ball. Also the shape of the blue and white crochet covers we have for boiled eggs. Lots of glasses and other table furniture. Sat next to a rather rude young doctor with little conversation. Large garden after the meal. Then onto a flat which had been allocated to us for the night. Young family allocated another on the same staircase.
After all these nocturnal traumas, off to inspect the moss garden to recover. The various sorts of moss continue to grow, slowly. Some of the shoots about an inch long now, sticking straight up in the sheltered environment. Various odd plants, very small. Various grasses, growing very slowly. Maybe they don't like the very damp environment.
# posted by Jim @ 3:32 AM 
