It’s a disaster waiting to happen when your father teaches you to drive with a horse box. Stack up on food and blood sugar and bad language!
I don’t have a PhD (sadly), and I don’t think the nerds and geeks of the world will embrace me without a thorough interrogation to find out exactly my capacity in terms of nerdiness and geekiness.
I am what I like to call a person who might not be A4, but I’m not half bad at fitting in that piece of paper anyway.
I had hoped that in time I would grow out of the feeling of not really fitting. I think I have. But sometimes i get offhand comments that I am over thinking things, too this or too that. I know I can be annoying. More often than not, I really don’t mean to. It’s just the way I am. I’m hardly ever showing off, because all my tricks are really not that great or are totally missing the audience.
This video resonates with me, and I would have loved it if it didn’t. Or would I?
It’s a funny feeling, not liking oneself, and yet being perfectly happy in oneself.
I have grown to like myself and accept myself, but it is hard to be myself around other people.
Why is it so?
Maybe I’m a bit different after all?
I want nothing more than to drift off to a peaceful, dreamless sleep. That would be absolutely heaven!
I can’t, though. My head is full of thoughts. Some quite troubling, others just buzzing.
Oh, I just want peace!
This is why the ducks won’t come up to feed amongst our water lilies:
This pike was 500 g without head and guts, and is currently residing in my freezer alongside the cod from yesteryear.
I’ve never caught a pike before! I don’t know how to use it.
And totally unrelated to this video;
Congratulations my friend! New house! I’m looking forward to helping out. Love you 😉
What’s summer without a scraped shin?
I’m ready to do drastic things to my leg now. It’s been throbbing and stinging relentlessly for the past four hours. I fell asleep, but an sms woke me up and I’m absolutely and utterly unable to sleep. Even with painkillers!
How do I give my shin a hot saline bath without filling a tub (which I don’t have)?
I want to sleep! And grow my skin back quickly without stupid bacteria messing up the process.
Oh, I think the painkillers are kicking in!
Usually, I’m baffled by other people’s stupidity.
This time, it’s my own.
The trouble is to tell the different species apart. The worst is that a mistake might kill you. I’m not a great philosopher, and I would prefer not to die by hemlock, thank you.
Anyway, I have been trying to be a righ little nosey botanist these past few weeks. I’ve discovered quite a few plants in the overgrown parts of my garden, and on my way home from work. This lead me to wanting to tell those apiaceas apart. After all, it might come in handy. So on my way home from work, I picked at least five different specimens to look at when I came home. And I did. A bit with gloves, a bit without.
As I’ve mentioned, water hemlock is one of my greatest fears. The newspapers were full of warnings when I grew up, and I’ve been terrified of eating something I accidently thought was something edible, just to discover I was beyond help a couple of hours later. So I never ate plants I didn’t know (after mum made three-year-old me purge the laburnum I was happily gnawing on. )
And late last night I put my finger in my mouth and started to clean the nail with my teeth. It had an unusual taste, and I spat it out immediately. The next three hours I spent spitting and gurgling (not swallowing once, mind you), waking my brother to keep an eye on me in case I started to convulse (poor fellow!) And in general work myself up to a mild panic.
Of course nothing happened. I went through the samples once more, and I’m positive there was no water hemlock there. Or hemlock.
Being such a whimp, and a clumsy and careless one at that, I really should keep my hands off plants I don’t know. At least unless I wear gloves at all times while handling them. And I should keep my fingers out of my mouth. Gran always told me my hands should stay out of my face. Maybe she was right. Not because of pimples, but because maybe I can’t be trusted with my own health.
I woke up, listened for a bit and could not hear one sound. Had to check the time.
Not a bird chirping or duck quacking. Not a car or helicopter. No creaking of the house or rustling of the wind.
And then I heard a faint bird.