Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Some sensical ramblings...
HELLO BRITAIN ! You don't seem to be making a particularly good fist of things at the moment. My heart felt sympathies go out to you. Some of them anyway. There are a far greater number of folk elsewhere in more desperate circumstance than yours. The root cause of recession in U.K. doesn't appear to have dawned on anyone yet. The country is wasting it's resources on a war. I just read that a newly unemployed builder is in desperate need having spent his savings on an engagement ring. You have to prioritise, the grandiose gesture and the thrill of the moment against practical sustainable long term progress. Cancel the wedding arrangements and be content with being "merely" married and in love. I read that an ambulance service in recession hit London has opened a "booze hospital" early to cope with all the excessive alcoholic celebration. What's to celebrate? Perhaps folk need to take their minds off Christmas. The seasonal massacre of the innocents takes many forms,none too pleasant. Party on... They tax the booze to pay for the bullets. I feel lucky I got out. It is too expensive in Britain to live a sober modest poorman's working life. I read that the average poor mans wage is 15,800 quid (24%° of poor Brits earn that?) too high for the government to help out. A quarter of the monthly income spent on debt? It would be a foolish investment to throw good money at bad practice. There's two of us living on 900 euros
in rural Brittany. We aren't begging and bleating for government help. I am unwaged. better serving my domestic economy at home with sustainable long term projects that will benefit our future lives. We don't drink. We eat well from our home garden. we are frugal and pay our bills on time. Most of our living is done at home, we don't "holiday". Living at home needn't be a fat arsed boring sedentary occupation that drives a person to waste resources on expensive short lived cheap thrills. My partner and I are married after Thirteen years of inadequate housing and homelessness to mark our engagement. We made wooden rings for the exchange at the wedding. they have worn out already from keeping our hands busy with work. Do we really need a ring? We don't feel poorer for the lack of one. We maintain a little van , budgeting for it's needs it serves us well. Anne-Sophie uses it to reach her clients as a part time carer for elderly and infirm people in this rural region. We don't go out much. I don't get a lot of joy from shopping avoiding it as much as possible. No one gets richer by spending money even money that we have got. God forbid that we be tempted to live on credit. We don't do that. I get stressed up enough worrying about club root on me brassicas. Another eight years of living here with our gradual incremental progress we will have paid for the house, we have only lived here for two and a half years. There is enough wood in the shed to last at least another year. there is work to be done in the little copse,so there will be more wood to come fairly soon. Nothing is wasted. The compost heap deals with most all of our organic "rubbish" . Much satisfaction is gained from the effort we put into our little living. It is a great pity that no opportunity to live this way of life existed for me in U.K. I felt locked out of the country life, I don't believe that it is possible in the post Empire industrial decline. I read about the increase in knife crime , it is a shame for sure. Most kids don't know how to peel potatoes by the time they leave school. That is a crime. They might be better of learning how to assist their domestic economy by being taught how to use a spade as part of the curriculum . Most of Britains food is imported. What isn't, is overpriced. I was malnourished on the disability allowance in U.K. My little garden in Wales was poisoned by generations of folk tipping their coal ash on good soil. So many new houses are built on polluted brown field sites. People can't be expected to grow food on toxic ground. Land rights is predictably going to be a big issue. I pray the day will come when agribusiness is displaced by a return to healthy independent peasant life. Happen it would take many years before the people relearn the basic skills they have lost. Will they ever want to? The velcro generation has difficulty tying shoe laces. "Peasant" is still used as a term of insult. It is a real pity that most of the residents there, aren't.
The "news" that emanates from Britain via the professional media is as wholesome as the septic puss from a carbuncle. I still love my old Albion but it is no longer a healthy enough country in body mind or spirit to risk what is left of my life.
I feel patriotic enough to high principle that being common to all aspiring humanity. My Englishness if there truly is such a thing is not represented by allegiance to a falling standard. What may be commonly understood to be "the British way of life", I'm not convinced that there is a definable one, is by evident conduct seen as being passed it's sell by date. Not export quality that is. And Hey chaps Jerusalem was never truly builded amongst those dark satanic mills. What I'm left with since the enforced exodus from my former homeland, the transferable goods, packs small. My practical working experience, irepressable idealism, my understandings of the historic follies borne of Empire days, my civilised generic code natural and unreconstructed . My lovely English language and a personal philosophy formed in resistance to the school of hard knocks endured throughout my life in Britain. My knackered body worn by naive service to family community and country, carries enough scar tissue to be assured that my working lifetime of hopeful striving wasn't just a bad dream. Intelligence goes with me so too my inspired vision. I remain loyal to what ever may be called lasting good , durable and sustainable within the Sceptred Isle. My integrated culture, seven generations of mixing and acting in service throughout the occupation of the Raj in India, The living continuous memory is carried forward . I am blessed I feel with the sense and the strength to keep moving . I will get to write the whole story in detail some day I feel sure. I have enough notes to fill volumes. In the meantime I will continue to "do the do" as an "Englishman abroad" in a foreign field. My ineffectual blog in the Oblivion zone will record a little of the good news that escaped to freedom. I happy to share some of the benefit, it won't come in the form of a Social Security cheque. I am grateful for the blessed opportunity to pioneer a way forward from the historic Big Mistake.
What is this blog about? You'll have to work that one out yourself. The juggernaut went thataway; I'm still standing.
in rural Brittany. We aren't begging and bleating for government help. I am unwaged. better serving my domestic economy at home with sustainable long term projects that will benefit our future lives. We don't drink. We eat well from our home garden. we are frugal and pay our bills on time. Most of our living is done at home, we don't "holiday". Living at home needn't be a fat arsed boring sedentary occupation that drives a person to waste resources on expensive short lived cheap thrills. My partner and I are married after Thirteen years of inadequate housing and homelessness to mark our engagement. We made wooden rings for the exchange at the wedding. they have worn out already from keeping our hands busy with work. Do we really need a ring? We don't feel poorer for the lack of one. We maintain a little van , budgeting for it's needs it serves us well. Anne-Sophie uses it to reach her clients as a part time carer for elderly and infirm people in this rural region. We don't go out much. I don't get a lot of joy from shopping avoiding it as much as possible. No one gets richer by spending money even money that we have got. God forbid that we be tempted to live on credit. We don't do that. I get stressed up enough worrying about club root on me brassicas. Another eight years of living here with our gradual incremental progress we will have paid for the house, we have only lived here for two and a half years. There is enough wood in the shed to last at least another year. there is work to be done in the little copse,so there will be more wood to come fairly soon. Nothing is wasted. The compost heap deals with most all of our organic "rubbish" . Much satisfaction is gained from the effort we put into our little living. It is a great pity that no opportunity to live this way of life existed for me in U.K. I felt locked out of the country life, I don't believe that it is possible in the post Empire industrial decline. I read about the increase in knife crime , it is a shame for sure. Most kids don't know how to peel potatoes by the time they leave school. That is a crime. They might be better of learning how to assist their domestic economy by being taught how to use a spade as part of the curriculum . Most of Britains food is imported. What isn't, is overpriced. I was malnourished on the disability allowance in U.K. My little garden in Wales was poisoned by generations of folk tipping their coal ash on good soil. So many new houses are built on polluted brown field sites. People can't be expected to grow food on toxic ground. Land rights is predictably going to be a big issue. I pray the day will come when agribusiness is displaced by a return to healthy independent peasant life. Happen it would take many years before the people relearn the basic skills they have lost. Will they ever want to? The velcro generation has difficulty tying shoe laces. "Peasant" is still used as a term of insult. It is a real pity that most of the residents there, aren't.
The "news" that emanates from Britain via the professional media is as wholesome as the septic puss from a carbuncle. I still love my old Albion but it is no longer a healthy enough country in body mind or spirit to risk what is left of my life.
I feel patriotic enough to high principle that being common to all aspiring humanity. My Englishness if there truly is such a thing is not represented by allegiance to a falling standard. What may be commonly understood to be "the British way of life", I'm not convinced that there is a definable one, is by evident conduct seen as being passed it's sell by date. Not export quality that is. And Hey chaps Jerusalem was never truly builded amongst those dark satanic mills. What I'm left with since the enforced exodus from my former homeland, the transferable goods, packs small. My practical working experience, irepressable idealism, my understandings of the historic follies borne of Empire days, my civilised generic code natural and unreconstructed . My lovely English language and a personal philosophy formed in resistance to the school of hard knocks endured throughout my life in Britain. My knackered body worn by naive service to family community and country, carries enough scar tissue to be assured that my working lifetime of hopeful striving wasn't just a bad dream. Intelligence goes with me so too my inspired vision. I remain loyal to what ever may be called lasting good , durable and sustainable within the Sceptred Isle. My integrated culture, seven generations of mixing and acting in service throughout the occupation of the Raj in India, The living continuous memory is carried forward . I am blessed I feel with the sense and the strength to keep moving . I will get to write the whole story in detail some day I feel sure. I have enough notes to fill volumes. In the meantime I will continue to "do the do" as an "Englishman abroad" in a foreign field. My ineffectual blog in the Oblivion zone will record a little of the good news that escaped to freedom. I happy to share some of the benefit, it won't come in the form of a Social Security cheque. I am grateful for the blessed opportunity to pioneer a way forward from the historic Big Mistake.
What is this blog about? You'll have to work that one out yourself. The juggernaut went thataway; I'm still standing.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Snot Izlington...
It's our Toby, enjoying a few minutes well earned rest and a sup of tea. He seemed content enough at the time,woodlogs over weblogs. The job isn't finished yet. Happy chance if someone would kick his arse back to France.I keep writing to him, not much by way of reply. Anne- Sophie and I have missed him. Perhaps we should take more careful aim in future and stop wasting valuable ammunition. October is long gone I wouldn't mind another seasonal photo opportunity this pic is out of date already and besides, you can guess the rest.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Curved space vision...
The weather didn't know whether to laugh or cry today. Warm enough but the whole day was overcast, remaining in what I can only describe as an emotionally unstable and unpredictable condition. I didn't risk mixing mortar for fear my work would be washed away. Instead I dug down to the schist strata and set a small dry stone retaining wall in the trench. The top of the wall rises only as high as the original soil level, the brown earth path will in time become a fast draining soak away a feeder channel for the ground covered by the round house. The trough between the line of large stones in the centre of the image and the wall on the left will eventually be filled with good topsoil and compost to accommodate plants and shrubs, they will earn their keep by filtering the ground water. As the side walls rise so the hole in the centre of the round house kitchen will descend. Magic is happening. It does it on it's own. I guess you would have to be here and see the results in real life to understand. Arcane knowledge, esoteric mysteries, sacred geometry. There are no secrets, all is revealed as work progresses in service to and in support of Life's singular evolutionary destiny. What means this? This means this and that means that.
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