That was what today’s #bandofsketchers prompt was. I have three large bookcases in our living room so I drew an interpretation of them. I couldn’t see all the titles let alone draw them all. I also added cat. It’s a bit scribbly and decided to leave the drawing as black and white although I am tempted to colour it.
Your phone is 85% full. Please transfer data to you SD card.
Trouble is that’s almost full too. Can I get an SD card with more memory? Can I get the data transferred over? Why have I filled this phone up? I love it. Its got lots and lots (thousands) of photos on it. And I look at them, using them for inspiration for my art. If I transferred them to the cloud would they stay available? Some companies are now withdrawing the use of free cloud storage. The world must be filling up with data too… Bring back photo albums.. Dusty memories….
With the advent of space travel becoming available for space tourists I wonder if its something I would go for.
The cost is exorbitant, in the millions, and the risks must be considered. Also the ones that are going are either very rich or famous. I don’t begrudge them doing it, but I hope this doesn’t turn into a new thing to do on their ‘bucket list’. Maybe instead of going into space for ten minutes they could donate that money to pay for covid vaccines in poor countries, or support working towards cutting pollution or reducing global warming.
Instead of selfish joy rides these space tourists should be more considerate. Me? If I could afford it I would stay with my feet firmly on the ground!
A drawing from 1981 of Hanley Park lake, surrounded by trees. I used to do a lot of pencil drawings and my sister has this in a frame at home.
The park was refurbished a few years ago and some of the neat lawns have been rewilded to allow the wildlife to thrive. There are also sculptures in the park and the boathouse has been restored. It’s been a while since we went there but it’s good to know its still thriving.
I’ve just watched a TV programme about climate change called the Trick. I don’t know if you can get the BBC but it was very informative and interesting. It was about the way anti climate change supporters hacked into scientific information and twisted it to try and discredit the scientists. These were scientists who had produced the hockey stick graph which shows that global temperatures were relatively steady on Earth until the industrial revolution and then started a steep increase.
The Trick is based in 2015. A scientist and his colleagues are accused of exaggeration of global warming, based on emails that were hacked and deliberately misinterpreted to throw doubt on the reality of climate change.
The programme showed how the scientist had to defend his reputation and the serious harm it did to his mental health and to his family while investigations were ongoing.
In the end his insight was accepted. He was exonerated and he was reinstated in his job. But it did mean that public opinion was skewed and that it cost at least ten years in fighting global warming because of the actions of vested interests.
An intelligent BBC film that is very worth watching. Don’t expect car chases, do expect strong acting and thought provoking ideas.
Photos from an old album. They were taken forty years ago. They won’t mean anything to anyone except me. They are old memories. Of winter when snow fell deep. When I lived in a flat. When the underfloor heating woukd blow out in a strong wind and me and my friends would be very cold till it was fixed.
It also has memories of when the skyline of the city was simpler, when some of the houses still stood. The colours are strange because I always used 400 iso film. That and the misty murk makes it look very gloomy despite the snow. So much has changed since then. No tape recorders or cassette tapes. No black and white TV’s. Even videos seem to have come and gone. Computers were only just being introduced. Yes my memory goes back a long way.
He’s better, his eye will never completely heal but he can finally go out again for the first time in weeks.
I’m still keeping him in at night, especially now the nights are getting dark earlier. It’s also getting colder at night. There may be a frost in Scotland tonight.
But that means he can carry on recovering without hurting himself. Fingers crossed he will get even better. X
Retail therapy, that’s what women shopping is something called. And yes sometimes going out and buying things can be fun. But it’s not something I can afford to do all the time.
Normal household shopping is more mundane. How many tins of beans or loaves do I need this week. Will I need to go out more than once? How long will things last?
My hubby says he hates shopping. So I asked him if he thought I enjoyed it? We don’t have the skills to order on line and I prefer to vary what I get. I like variety when I shop and seeing the things that are there.
But shopping is not a pleasure. Its a chore. Like washing up or doing the dishes.
Let me let you into a secret. Women are not genetically programmed to do household chores. We are not robots, not domestic goddesses not slaves or maids. If we have partners they should share the work. Just because women have generally always managed household chores doesn’t mean they always will do or should.
I can’t understand why you can call a woman a ‘slut’ for having an untidy or messy home, but you can’t use the same expression for men? Why are women picked on?
‘Treat them mean, keep them keen’ ? No ‘Treat them fair, do your share!’ Should be the slogan!
I feel flat
Stuck at the bottom
Of a valley
No way to climb up.
Flat as a pancake
Flat as a skillet
Flat as a newspaper
Did I mention?
I feel flat
All my bubbles
Tired, shaking, aching. Can’t rest, can’t get comfortable, can’t sleep. Too hot, too cold. Got a slight cough. Feeling miserable. Not ill. The injured calf muscle is difficult to position, too painful after three weeks. I’ve slept on the settee with my legs resting on cushions on a stool because straightening my leg makes it cramp up. My sleeping mask that I have to wear to keep my throat from stopping me breathing is rubbing on my nose and puffs of air from it disturb me as I try to nod off. Occasionally I’ve slept in an armchair instead, cushioned up and curled in a ball. I want to go to bed, upstairs. But I’m scared like the Grand old Duke of a Yorks men I will end up halfway. Neither up nor down.
Injury is not only frustrating, it’s confidence sapping too. You don’t trust yourself incase something happens to make it worse. So instead I’m sitting tapping on my phone. Dithering in the cool night air, wanting to be snuggled and comfy. Feeling fed up.