…grayblog…

Author: graybo

  • today’s rant is on the

    today’s rant is on the subject of the Foot-and-Mouth crisis.
    Some people I’ve spoken to do not seem to have grasped the magnitude of this, and also how easy it is for them to spread the disease just by going for a walk. And I can imagine the farmers’ fears at the moment, mainly because we experienced a similar, smaller and unpublicised scare last year. A nursery only 500 metres from here suffered an infestation of a pest called Thrips palmi. MAFF/PHSI officials were swarming around the area, checking for the spread of the pest and trying to eradicate it. Essentially, if you get this thing in your plants, you have to destroy your crops, and, if eradication is unsuccessful, your glasshouses have to be destroyed and there was even talk of covering the ground under 10cm of concrete.
    Of course, as you can imagine, all the neighbouring nursery owners (this is a big area for horticulture) were beside themselves with worry. This pest can fly or be carried on the wind. And there is no insurance cover available for this kind of thing (farmers are now lobbying government to put pressure on insurers to provide that sort of cover).
    And imagine the equivalent happening to your business – I know some of the people who read this are in the IT industry – well, it’s like you getting a virus on your PC, and the government coming along and stopping you trading and destroying all your PCs and equipment, and then getting in touch with all your business associates, checking them out and doing the same to them. Scary.
    So spare a thought for the farmers. Don’t go walking in the countryside. And try to imagine it happening to you.
    Rant ends.

  • last night was a *very*

    last night was a *very* late night, so late it was well advanced into today by the time I climbed under my duvet. This morning I am, officially, a zombie. But it was worth it for some very high quality time.

  • Meg posts pictures of the

    Meg posts pictures of the blogmeet on Friday. You can see my visage there. And those of other people.

  • ok – I’m getting *really*

    ok – I’m getting *really* tired of using Blogger. Whilst I think it is good to support a small company that provide a useful product, that product ceases to be useful if it can not be relied upon to function well at all times. That’s why I use Easyspace to host this site because they are reliable, even if they are not the cheapest.
    So I’m off to download Greymatter.

  • Don Bradman dies aged 92.

    Don Bradman dies aged 92. A few sportsmen and women today could learn a thing or two from this man.

  • the really freaky thing about

    the really freaky thing about reading other people’s blogs now that I have met them is that I can hear their voices (amongst others!).

  • ok – this is the

    ok – this is the long post that I tried to publish yesterday – an enthusiastic rant about the Ben Richards novel I’m reading. Actually, it was more case of copying Vaughan’s idea and quoting a hefty chunk from the book. I’m so impressed by Richards’ style of writing (as always) – I wanted to share this piece with you, even though I had only got to page 19. To me, it speaks about the sort of vulnerabilities we all have, and the character Mel has the same sort of thought processes that I do – the ones about love and vulnerability. Fear of loss too.
    Anyway, have a read of this, and see what you think:

    “Mel took the paper out of the bin and straightened it so that she could see the picture of the mangled train. How strange, how fragile was the human body; Mel’s hand with its two familiar rings, its intricate mechanisms of knuckles and joints, the hand that had gesticulated and clutched and caressed, the hand that was now smoothing the creases from the paper, this hand could be destroyed in an instant, could be ripped from its arm, could be torn to shreds. It was no stronger, no more durable than any other human hand. Flesh which seemed so solid, so natural, so permanent, could disappear altogether, could be scattered across a battlefield, could be scorched to a shadow on the pavement. She remembered the calcinated body of a soldier trying to climb from his tank in one of the most grotesque photos of the recent air-wars, his burned hands gripping the metal in one last useless effort. He had probably smoked cigarettes, joked with his comrades, teased his little sister, ruffled her hair. And what about Patrick? He could still rely on his body, he would pad to the front door when she came in, glad to see her, they could play the intimate word games of a couple who knew each other very well. He was real, he was solid. But what if he started to decline, to melt away before her very eyes? What if his body succumbed, what if there were no Patrick any longer, just the parts of him that were seared on to her memory – the strange shadows of loss?”

    Comments?

  • another conversation I had on

    another conversation I had on Friday is recorded by Stephen. Actually, thinking about why we blog is one of those very self-destructive activities. My reasons tend to vary according to my mood and level of sobriety. At the moment I would say that I do it because it’s an interesting record (but why not use a paper diary and keep it to myself?), it allows me to say things having thought them through thoroughly (yes, but do I need a website to do that?), it gives me chance to hone my HTML skills (but do I need this particular variety of content?) and, ok, I’ll admit it, I get a kick out of looking at the counter and seeing that lots of people read what I write. me me me me me!
    There are other reasons too, but you’ll have to wait for my mood/level of sobriety to change before I’ll discuss them.

  • Blogger had yet another of

    Blogger had yet another of its fits yesterday – much to the annoyance of myself and Sarah – she came round so we could go for lunch together, and arrived just as I was typing a very long entry – she gave me a hand with it (I type with two fingers, she uses all of them) – we clicked “publish” only to watch it disappear into the ether. grrr.
    So now I’m at work, and will sit and re-type it for you all.

  • this evening was spent down

    this evening was spent down the bar – in the company of: Jim, Jayne (happy birthday!), DA, DAGS, Arron, Stein, Paul F, Paul C, Ian, Sacha, Anne, Jo, Tim, Matt, gorgeous-Sarah-who-used-to-work-behind-the-bar (henceforth known as GSWUTWBTB – no, too long – how about “Gorgeous Sarah”? no, could offend other equally gorgeous Sarahs (Sarah P and DAGS) – ideas?) amongst others. A good night on the whole.