renaissance man
Having started to get Xmas gifts in, today I wrapped the first few. One for Teresa, one for Terry & Margaret, and one for Tim. Got a few more to wrap. And many more to get. But the madness has started…
I love this wrapping paper. Mistletoe, for kissing under. And in lovely warm seasonal yet organic design/colours.
I’ve been meaning to finish Teresa’s corner of our bedroom floor for quite a while. But we moved back in rather precipitously. We’ll have to move out again whilst the paint drys.
Perhaps rather foolishly I decided, whilst doing this, I’d do not only the skirting boards, walls and floor, but also the recently acquired red shelves (another Freecycle acquisition), pictured above.
*I’m not sure about the colour names! Well, Cupcake I am sure of. It’s on the tin I’m painting out of. But Egyptian Cotton… hmmm!? It’s my best guess!
After undercoating the shelves, first I did the walls, then the skirting boards, and finally the undercoat for the floor. Then it was back to the skirting boards and the shelves, for a coat of white gloss.
Once all that was done – and I had to keep shifting the shelves around, all the time, whilst working – I finally got to the floor itself. Phew!
Looking at the photo above, I’m thinking, will these shelves sit atop the nearby chest o’drawers, perhaps? Thereby raising them up, to a similar height to the wall-mounted set, to their immediate right. And also possibly making better use of floor space.
This might also help with the de-cluttering effort. And, having painted the shelves white, I’m tempted to do the same to the dark brown chest o’drawers. This latter also needs some repairs, to the ornamental woodwork. Hmmm…
With the floor done, the overall room re-paint is now nearing completion, with just relatively small portions of wall and skirting board to be done. The lighter warmer colours, and white woodwork, all help make the room brighter, and even more spacious feeling.
And… the following day (24th, Nov’), a second coat of white gloss on’t shelves:
I love the fluted ‘pillars and capitals’ style carving on this set of shelves. And the (routed?) profile around the top is great. Will I paint the dark drawers, on the right, and put these atop ‘em, I wonder?
I’m giving this book my rare and coveted (ha! I wish!) six stars rating. For the exceptionally good. Am I being swept up and away in the euphoric hype around young Merlin and his über-trendy book? Will I regret my blissful embrace? We shall see, I guess. Anyhoo… my review:
I’m still reading this, at the time of starting this review. I’m probably about 80% through the main body of text (there are tons of notes!). And we – my wife and I, and some friends – are going to see the author give a talk about the book in Ely, next week (Nov, ‘23).
Knowing that Merlin is the son of the maverick and sometimes controversial Rupert Sheldrake (who has published a book with the provocative title The Science Delusion*), I was rather sceptical of this at first glance.
*Haven’t read it yet. But want to.
Also, as one can see by the plethora of breathlessly admiring quotes that adorn the various editions – and this is the authors’ first book! – Merlin appears to be the very dictionary definition of what it is to be lionised, or (even worse), fashionable.
Deploying little quotes that range from Prince to Tolkien and Tom Waits – all of whom I love, as it happens – this populist vibe, and his background, reared on the lap of such psychedelic psychonauts as Terence McKenna and Paul Stamets, might be cause for grave concern.
And he does have an occasionally rhapsodic side, that’s nearly as evangelistic as folk like McKenna. But all in all, the younger Sheldrake gives us a very balanced account, putting both the enthused visionary’s views, and those of the more sober sort over with nearly equal weight.
One thing I’ve come away with, amongst many, from reading this hugely interesting, highly readable, deeply informative, and altogether fascinating book, is a view Sheldrake shares; I forget who he quotes at the time (the book is strewn with quotations and citations), but someone describes mycology as a neglected ‘mega-science’, compared with our studies of plants and animals (or even inert matter, for that matter!).
And this brilliant book makes a very strong case for the need for more folk, both at grassroots and social/institutional levels, to remedy this oversight. The stories Sheldrake tells here – from his own rotten-wood fermentation bath, to stuff from deep history and/or a ‘fungal point of view’ – are both very beguilingly told, and full of inherent interest.
I’m one to bridle at hype, and both book and author seem to be ‘instant darlings’, making me deeply suspicious. But on reading the book, I’m entirely won over. Superb. Highly recommended.
I’ve been off the sauce for a bit recently. Due to calamitous collapses of self-control when imbibing. Tonight I’ve been allowed – by both myself and Teresa – a small snifter o’ whiskey.
I kind of wanted to photograph the tint of the whiskey. Maybe alluding to the idea of altered perception through substances? But Teresa poured it into this cute little blue glass (wasn’t blue the colour of poison bottles?). So the boozes’ hue isn’t visible.
This last shot I quite like. Just for the intensity of the blue. Such a minuscule dose helps one to savour it, which is good. If I had the bottle to have I’d probably just clobbered myself with large amounts.
Well, after the false-start/non-collection, yesterday, Silvio Burlesque-O-Neill has finally departed.
The guy supposed to collect yesterday had been offering £200. I bought the car in 2015, for £1,200. In the end I sold it to Fenland Breakers, a local outfit, via removemycar.com. This latter being suggested by one of Teresa’s work colleagues. They are paying £236.
There’s now a big – well, yawning, if not exactly big – space on our driveway, and a gurt big hole in my heart.
It’s such a sad day. I’m finally getting shot of my beloved MX5, Mk II, Silvio Burlesque-O’Neill.
He/she/it, gave me sooo much motoring (and more) pleasure, over about a decade. And, starting at 89,000 miles, more than doubled that, passing on to the great garage in the sky at roughly 195,000. Good going, Silvio!
In the end it was the lowly yet ubiquitous rust, infamous slayer of MX5s, that did for her (she’s a girl, for now). I’ve had a number off welding bridges done over the years. This time it’s a few too many rust spots – some quite big/structurally fundamental – too far.
I’ve held on to her for ages, ‘cause I can only get peanuts for her. And I thought maybe I could gradually fix her up. But times are just too tough and finances too tight.
Plus I’m fighting other battles, that simply don’t leave me with enough energy, regardless of time, and the absolute absence of any money, to take on such Herculean efforts.
Looking on the bright side, I’ve had the best part of a decade of sexier than average motoring, at the wheel of this ace little ride. She was a bit high maintenance, with regards to running and repair costs. And, alas, that’s finally become unsustainable.
POSTSCRIPT… or maybe not? The scrappers have failed to materialise. I’ve got 15 minutes left, before I have to go to work. Will they show up? I suspect not, somehow. Which makes me rather gloomy…
Uh-oh! What is that facial expression? Well… I love the Furze Mining T-shirt. It arrived yesterday. I bought it what feels like aeons ago. And it finally turned up. I bought it when I thought I had a few brass farthings. But of course it turns up when I’m absolutely and completely broke (again!).
I’m experimenting with taking Valerian of an evening. How wise this is, I really don’t know. I had been taking Zopiclone. I slept very well last night. Indeed, maybe too well, inasmuch as I slept well into the day, till about 10 or 11 am.
Once up, I did the Joe wicks 10 minute workout for ‘seniors’. Teresa and I are trying to do this every day; at least once, or even better, twice.
And with the little time available to me before work, I tried to find a buyer for Silvio (my older, and as yet unsold, MX5)… no luck! Looks like I’ll wind up eBaying or scrapping her. So sad!
I also had just enough time to heat up some pasta Teresa made yesterday, for lunch. And paint a bit more of the master bedroom (see above pic). I’ve also tidied that corner a wee bit. Or rather de-cluttered it.
I had another mini-meltdown recently. On that subject? Least said, soonest mended, methinks.
Hannah had offered that we visit them, for Friday evening, which chez Gimeno-Palmer means (home-made) pizza night.
We’d have been there like a shot anyway – other commitments allowing – but under the circs (me needing recuperative relaxation and time out), it was a no-brainer.
And in the end we stayed over two nights, instead of just the one. I only hope we didn’t impose too much, or overstay our welcome? It didn’t feel that way. So I’m trusting all is tickety-boo.
Tim’s living with ‘the girls‘ now. And that’s more than fine with us. It obviously changes the chemistry, compared to when we used to visit, and it was just Teresa, me, Hannah, Ali and Sofi.
I had to, or rather, chose to keep off the sauce, whilst all the other adults imbibed. That puts an interesting spin on things. Sobriety illuminates intoxication in a fairly unforgiving.
Sleeping, or not, remains a hot potato. I’d been able to get some Zopiclone prescribed, via ‘NHS’ 111. And that had worked a treat Thursday night. so I took one Friday evening, and once again slept like a log.
My Saturday shift took me back to home turf. I dropped in on Chester, fed and cuddled the wee rascal, and picked up some Valerian tablets. I took one of these Saturday night.
That caused a predicament, re the Zopiclone. I’m now in a quandary… do I take the ‘known to work’ Zop, or chance the possibly just ‘old wives tales’ Valerian? I’m lead to believe the two shouldn’t be taken together.
Whilst at Hannah’s news came through the family WhatsApp grapevine that dad was freaking out again. I communicated a bit with him, Sam and Claire. Not sure if that was wise or not? It certainly ramps up the stress levels. But we are family!
I decided that the DVD-on-a-shelf idea that I’d been using up till now was shite. It intruded too far into the room, and was ugly. So I took down the brackets, and filled in the holes.
In all honesty I’m still not happy with the position of the TV. But I’ll leave it where it is for the time being.
Whilst the filler cured, I painted an undercoat on that section of skirting board. Doing this room piecemeal, around all the clutter, is proving tricky and time consuming. But we’re getting there. And if it must be by lots of little bites, so be it.
We won’t win any design awards with this setup/layout. But it’s a lot less cluttered than previously. And the new floor and carpet are a vast improvement. At least to my tastes. Teresa seems happy as well.
There is a little corner of as yet unpainted floor, on Teresa’s side of the room. The vast amount of clutter in that corner has given me ‘the fear’! But it’ll get done. And purty soon, I reckon.
As a lover of literature, libraries (the tragic fate of public libraries in the UK makes for a stark contrast with the contents of this handsome book), and beautiful buildings, this is right up my alley.
My edition is a medium sized one. But still nicely put together and lavishly printed. ideally I’d have got a larger edition. But funds constrained me. And better this than nowt.
I haven’t read any of the text as yet. Nor even really looked at it that much. But occasionally, as now, I’ll peruse it. And, oh my, it’s a visual treat!
I look forward to really spending some time poring over it. Maybe even reading the text?