A call from a not so smart phone and chicken soup

This afternoon my phone went off at the Fish Factory. It was Sparkling Eyes. I calmly put a hand into my coat pocket to immediately stop the ringing. The idea being to get out of an open factory area into a quiet room to ring her back. I wondered for a moment as I walked off from the bench to find somewhere private, rang Sparkling and she didn't answer. So I sent her  a text to immediately ring back if she needed to talk. Back on the factory floor a text popped up and Sparkling hadn't rang me intentionally. It's one of those things. New smart phone, no instructions in the box. The assumption being it is so user friendly anyone can understand how to use it just by playing with the thing. Of course the world of technology and human beings doesn't always read of the same non-existent page, they are usually on totally different pages. Come to think of it, no instructions doesn't sound smart to me, they should be called dumbfounded phones. Later after finishing work I checked my phone and listened to Sparkling's answer phone message. Which happened to be a conversation she was having with Rock Chick at the time. I listened to their conversation which wasn't always audible and smiled. It was just nice to hear both their voices and like I had eavesdropped even though I hadn't. It was a serendipitous listening, I miss them both and enjoyed the moment as cold wind blew in my face walking down the street.

Sparkling is not well at the moment and really needs some TLC time. Her sinus is swollen and she looks like someone has assaulted her. The weather in Scotland is cold, because it's generally very cold over the entire country, snow, sleet, ice, rain sort of thing. I offered to make chicken soup and bring Horlicks to her, but Sparkling doesn't like Horlicks. Fortunately she is not working tomorrow. As for her sinus the only thing she can do for now is let it run it's course even though it has been two weeks of heavy breathing. Maybe I could order an entire box of chicken soup from Amazon and send it to her. I'll have a look.

The day has been very busy, as indeed every day at the Fish Factory seems to be lately. However, I like busy and being busy, but I don't like being overwhelmed. It's being overwhelmed which leads to stress. The best way to cope with this is paradoxically to stop doing something and spend time thinking about it. Although too much time thinking about something is more along the lines of procrastination. An old and dear friend I constantly fight with and am sure there are a lot of people out there who also fight against. This evening I have been productive. Given Bertha attention, watched videos on Getting Things Done (GTD) and even spoken to Sparkling. The procrastination or relaxing bit was playing a few games of Candy Crush and wondering if I am addicted to it, just as I wonder whether I should bother with Facebook. Which I have found videos from people on YouTube advocating people should remove themselves from. Except, I am on it and I do find it useful but I am not crazy addicted to it. Mostly because I don't have many friends. In Facebook terms most of the friends people have are not really friends at all. Some they may never have met before or have met but only very briefly.  The thing is Facebook seems to be some glorious self publicising machine. Or a being nosey machine, where people just snoop on other people. I hold little weight with it, but do keep an eye on what goes on, as well as Candy Crush, but if I wanted it would not be too difficult to give the whole thing up.

Come to think of it, Sparkling should put on Facebook she is suffering from a sinus problem. It would be an accurate update of her status. Along with, "my phone makes phone calls on it's own" and "chicken soup anyone?"  I could see the crowds flocking to her door, bowls in hand, and giving some tips on how to work dumb phones. They could look after Sparkling and be like real friends and family. Oops, nearly forgot, Facebook is not about real stuff. It's not like listening to a message from real people, you love and know love you back. Get well Sparkling, you'll need your strength to open up a box of chicken soup I'm sending to you. x x

It might be spring but it's snowing

It's snow again. Here on the east side of Scotland those little white flakes have not let up. Most of yesterday it snowed and it's snowing this very moment. Considering in two weeks time it spring officially starts, I don't think the weather knows about this. Someone needs to tell the weather it has to change. It is now being inconsiderate to the rest of us. Shops are expecting to sell their spring clothes but nothing is moving off the shelves. The last of those floppy eared winter hats has flown out the door and there's no more left. Well I got one somewhere. In a place where it is best used, on top of my head.

Sparkling has to hit work. The car is in the drive and has a few inches of the white stuff on it. My job will be to dig the thing out and make it road worthy and warm for when she gets inside. The cat as ventured out for about thirty seconds and come back in. His poor little paws sank into this carpet and he got lost so it was safer to be inside. I just hope he doesn't take to pissing in the house as well. Funny how he's pulling his fur out at a time like this.

The agenda has been filled with painting and decorating Sparkling's new bedroom. It's a raspberry, pink come red colour with lime green trimmed borders. I do like it. The only thing is decorating is always a slow process and Sparkling is a woman who likes to get things done straight away. She gets impatient if something isn't done immediately. I don't know why it's her nature. You even say this is a thing all women have. They just like to get their men out there an doing stuff, unfortunately it is never to the standard they want either, which you never know about until you've finished because mind reading is another thing they take for granted. I think the button in my head has been switched off because my mind reading is bloody awful at the moment. Fortunately Sparkling has told me the walls need a second coat and to get on with it while she is at work. Hence the day has already been planned, and I was going to stay in bed as well. Highly unlikely in these circumstances.

Some dozen hours later, the room is painted. Sparkling has finished work, Rock Chick has spent time with her belly in full view as baby Fro has kicked, elbowed and turned around. Whilst poor tired out Dangerous Sports Lad has kipped on the settee, he's just started a job and the second day involved getting to work at 7 a.m. For someone who barely ever gets up early it must of been a shocking experience, but he has picked up his game and risen to the challenge. Anyway, once the little one comes along he'll soon know what it is like to have sleepless nights, with the affection of a beautiful little girl who can bend him round her very tiny little finger, awwwe.

A thought before bed, keep you're gob shut

Today has been spent decorating. I'd like to say it was a hard job, but it would be a lie, Sparkling has been directing me what to do and I been doing it. It's simple, she tells me and I do it. After practice it gets easier to follow instructions. Though we did have a heated discussion about a topic. Which reminds me, if Sparkling wants to bet me I am wrong and it involves putting my hand in my wallet, then I shouldn't. So far I've been wrong. She's won twice and my wallet is lighter. Damn I hate being wrong when I really thought I was right. This is the hardest thing about thinking you are right, is finding out you are wrong.  Better hit the hay and think about holding my tongue, because it's not helping at all. As Sparkling has hit the hay  before me it'll be pay back, I can then put my cold feet and hands on her to get warmed up.

"It's all about me" he said with a stare in his eyes

It was about half eleven at night, Sparkling Eyes had just come through the front door. I'd finished watching a documentary called 'The Light Bulb Conspiracy.' (Which I recommend to anyone to watch as it's about the throw away society and how manufacturers purposefully build in obsolescence). Sparkling was able to poor herself a glass of wine and give a five minute update on work. Then there was a quiet knock on the door.

"Who could that be?" asked Sparkling.
"I don't know."
"It must be L & B man, it can't be anyone else." She said.

He came in with a crazed look in his eyes and a lot to say. I'd been briefed there were issues with his employer and L & B needed to tell someone.This is the most important thing in his life at the moment, he was possessed and I was about to find out what was possessing him.

"It's not about the wife! It's not about the daughter. (both shopaholics) It's not about me son (lost in his own teenage angst) It's about me!" His stare penetrated like he had X-ray eyes. He was feverish, manic, on the edge, excited, knew he was in the right, had a battle on his hands and wore a t-shirt. Bare arms ready to fight.This was the only issue which mattered, nothing else.

So for the next hour, I made L & B tea while he gave me the low down on work. At one point he stood up, and gave me the stare, the one which says"you gotta take me seriously." Rather the world will take me seriously. The fight was on. But I wasn't agreeing with what he said. Sparkling said I didn't know the full story, L & B's passion was so much he said he was going to hit me. That I didn't know what I was talking about. It didn't help Sparkling joined in by saying I made her mad at times and she felt like she wanted to hit me as well. I'd better watch myself, in a few minutes I could get a thrashing just because I didn't agree as brother and sister were about to chop me up into little bits and feed me to the dicky birds in the morning.  There was only one course of action, I agreed, he had a case and they had to answer it. They were in the wrong, he stood up and feigned a half vulnerable pathetic look, saying little old me is disabled and they are treating me unfairly.  For L & B it was definitely "all about me."  Ten cigarettes later, two cups of tea, and a passionate discussion about his predicament all was well, head held high he went out the front door, chuffed. For this evening his job was complete, yet another spectator had gone on to L & B's side. He will win this fight.

In the next couple of days I'll get to see a two inch folder of evidence on the poor decisions and discrimination of his work. Must drink lots of coffee, stay awake, don't be caught yawning, I'll not offend him. Not when he's got his t-shirt on and raging for another discussion of "it's all about me." Sparkling will then get a chance to take a back seat, as long as she don't roll up her sleeves as well I should get it. The prospect of a shallow grave in the back garden just doesn't cut the mustard. I got at least another 30 years of life left. Heck, it's not about me it's about him. Roll over the little one said.

Real silence, who's scared of the big bad wolf

I caught an article on the news recently, it's about a room which has been built to provide perfect silence. This is supposed to be great for recording sounds, but it also has the purpose of making some people scared. Not everyone, just some. Probably the ones with the biggest mouths and like to hear themselves speak. Getting peace and quiet is probably my pet love and pet hate when I can't get it. Silence has a purpose, this purpose is to allow thinking. Whereas those who don't like silence are unable to cope with their own solitude. Or have very boring jobs. Silence to them is like facing a bad tempered wolf, it scares them.

In the Fish Factory it is difficult to think. The Fish Factory is open planned, it has not been designed for people to think or do cognitive work it's been designed for battery chickens. They all sit at desks and constantly cluck away. What are battery chickens good for I ask? Not a great deal in real terms, they produce eggs and that's about it. Ask them to write a spread sheet, compose an email, or weigh conflicting information on scales and they have difficulty. Ask them about eggs and they are fine, eggs are great, they have a fat end and a thin end. They roll about and of course can be used in food. They have their own value, of which there is no doubt, but they are not very good and complexity.

This silent room has been built at the University College London., and is called an "Anechoic chamber."  I thought it might be full of some kind of soft material which absorbs sound, but instead is composed of many triangular fibre glass protuberances.  Apparently as sound hits these shapes it is then diverted by adjacent surfaces and loses it's energy. The result is a dead like environment for any kind of sound at all. So recording the sound from say a musical instrument would mean it is only the sound which is recorded and not the reflection of the sound or any outside sources of sound. The recording becomes a pure representation of the object which produced it. 

Personally though I think I'd just like to sit in the room and listen to the sound of nothing at all. It seems to me a great way to unwind. Just like at night when going to bed and finding everything has gone silent. There is not traffic noises, no trains running and the rest of the world has put itself to bed as well. Except of course for the wolf. He's keeping me company and just waiting for the next needy nincompoop who loves the sound of their own voice. He comes in pretty handy then.

A happy pint and a piss

It's funny how a couple of pints can change your perception of everything. The Guinness was definitely tasting good tonight I must admit. The stories told by a fellow drinker sounded all the more funny. The old witch who I sat next to even had a couple of words to say. As if she never has a couple of words to say because she actually has far too many words to say and has to say them to everyone. Even if they don't want to hear them. I sat there and felt good, I most definitely felt in very good spirits. The big union man said how he had represented his brother in law at a meeting where the private company were going to sack him for fiddling his overtime. I faced up to the private company boss and said "well if you think it is such an open closed case then I'd like you to state that at an industrial tribunal." A week later  his brother in law got an unconditional pay out of £25K. Wonderful. He then went on to say, "you always win against private employers." It seems in the public sector they are more prone to following the correct actions. In another story he told how he helped organize a football training even for people with special needs. It was more popular than he anticipated and 70 special needs persons turned up. He said it was the funniest day of his life, and ended the session by getting them all to bow down and pledge allegiance to his local football team.

In a separate chat I expressed how offensive I found it when when someone said "god bless you." I stated, were I a Satanist and replied "Beelzebub bless you" I'm sure they would find it equally offensive."  There are too many god fearing, sheep following crazies about for my taste. I couldn't help but think, if you want to believe in something which does not exist and has got no evidence in the real world there must be some mental illness involved. Why it is they biggest hypocrites are the bible bashers I don't know.  The prisons seem to be full of them.  We went on and debated the current political climate. How the Tories were now instigating a program of morally injust politics. Ensuring the poorest of society paid the heaviest for the continuuing deficit, which the Conservatives said would be under control by the end of their term. We're now more than half way through and they are so far off course from their original statements they are bigger liars than the man who invented lies.  The price of  housing and the rental market had now become so high there would be many homeless on the streets as the next years passed by. But it wouldn't matter to the Tories because homeless people are not registered to vote and they would have nothing to worry about. 

At some point I made my way home, and then dying to urinate, pissed up the garage of the man who feeds pigeons, which now congregate on my roof every morning.  They wake me up, they speak to each other in cooing language and I'd kill them if I could. The piss, flowed so easily over his garage door I hoped he would notice it in the morning. Unfortunately, I don't think it will stop him throwing bread out for the birds at 5:30 a.m., but as the saying goes, don't get mad, get even. Something which Sparkling has said to me, something which I took great delight in practising this evening. 

Waking up at 2:37 a.m.

This morning I woke up at 2:37 a.m.. all I can recall was being in the middle of a dream and although not completely a nightmare there was some aspect of it which woke me. I wasn't scared as such, but think there was a dispute of some kind going on. I should write these things down. Awake. But my eyes were so tired I could not actually get up and do anything so just lay there doing my best to drop off again. It was weird. Checking the phone for was a predicate to whether it was appropriate to get up, hence being quite confident on the 2:37 a.m. part. The entire first half of the day, morning to lunch I was a complete grouch. Very unhappy and ready to bite the head off a soft furry cuddly cute creature, like a baby rabbit and not give a damn. This is the after effect of not sleeping.

At lunch time I spoke to Sparkling Eyes, we discussed a new protable house phone I'd ordered. Rock Chick had tittle tattled on Sparkling, by texting me Sparkling loathed the phone. It's a strong word to use "loath." I told Sparkling about the little dicky bird telling on her and she thought it was unfair Rock had done so. I'd even said to Sparkling if she didn't like the phone to give it to Rock. One of the issues seemed to do with the ringer. She could not find a tone she liked. Being German I asked whether it was an Oompah oopah sort of sound. Like a brass band and laderhosen. She wasn't happy but was going to put up with the thing. She punctuated her discussion with the comment "I don't want to be ungrateful..." which really tells it all. Sparkling might just go and buy her own house phone. I don't mind, all I want is to be able to talk to her once in a while. Sometimes it seems everybody else does but I don't get a chance.

Rock Chick texted me to say she was excited about my coming up to Scotland again. Which will be some time next week. She also said babyfro was now only ten weeks away. I wish she hadn't of said this. I was in the Chinese again and felt the same old pang of emotion and happiness, I could of cried into my chow mien, but held it together.  I think she knows what she can do, just a word here, or a word there and I'm all a jitter. Mind I do hear Rock is getting emotional all the time as well. I expect she will be happy once the ten weeks are over. If I'm up next week then it is down to 9 weeks and single figures. Sparkling has said Rock seems to be walking everywhere and is keeping in shape.  It's just the bump in front which is getting bigger and bigger.

No wonder I'm waking up at 2:37 a.m., I must get drunk, then wet the baby's head and get drunk again. Well in ten weeks time that's for sure. I can't wait to be called "Pops."

A Novice Ukulele player finds happiness

Bertha is my Ukulele, she is a soprano ukulele so has a high sounding tone. I got some Aquilla nygut strings for her and she sings lovely.  To improve on my noob status I've watch a few videos on Youtube, but when I see them sometimes I notice the tutors don't have a soprano Uke but the larger Concert or Tenor style. There is a difference in size and resonance.  But even a more fundamental difference in fingering and fret sizes.  Because the ones on soprano are just a tad closer together. I think it is harder to play, as your hand is a bit more cramped up. I probably helps if you have long skinny fingers as well, then you can reach frets in places short stubby fingers just can't reach.  Stubby fingers are at a disadvantage, unless of course the owner of those stubby fingers has practiced stubby finger Yoga and stretching exercises. Then they may step up their game and play with more confidence, as far as the ukulele is concerned anyway.

But there is more to learn to playing the ukulele than just a couple of chords.  Inadvertently or even rather intentionally, you get to learn about music. And the way music sounds, a chord will always be the same sound, well it will be if your uke is in tune. Then there is timing. Every song in the world, every piece of music ever written has a certain timing to it. Timing and strumming a Ukulele are close compatriots.  It's not possible to do one without the other. Learning words to songs then becomes not just a feat of memory, it comes one of context. For every song has  rhythm and this is enveloped in a tune. Now if you can juggle balls and can do three or four at a time then you could be part the way there to knowing what it is like to play the Uke when you've had no musical experience in your life at all. Which happens to be in my case. There a lot going on to say the least. However, my major love of the uke is the FUN it brings. It is absolutely wonderful. Especially as I string together every aspect of this little instrument to try and sing. I listen to the great Ray Charles and Hit the Road Jack. Which only has four simple chords to play but my singing isn't in time. I then laugh and I am happy.  Which everybody knows is the secret of a good life. Finding your own happiness, top tip numbero uno.