tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16388503241210873622026-03-27T22:19:58.874+00:00 Fiction, mainly...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger735125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1638850324121087362.post-76801547754912289492024-09-18T08:20:00.002+01:002024-09-18T08:20:18.220+01:00

 Hard to know what to write at the moment because the world seems so strange and dangerous.  I don't know where to start.  I'm not sure if it's the way the world really is or just how it appears to be via the internet.Still thinking...

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 I'm going in.  I've had this copy since 1980 and it's never left my side except in 1983, when I worked abroad and travelled light.   Others will understand why, I'm sure. 

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 Apologies for the total dearth of posts at the moment.  I had a complete blank writing-wise for a few weeks - experience tells me not to force it, it only comes out even worse than the usual un-forced stuff - and then a nasty bout of covid.   If only Dave Nark had been around with his covid marshal cattle prod, hazmat suit and hi viz jacket.   But he wasn't. 

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'Death pods' churned out on a 3D printer.   What could possibly go wrong... https://www.msn.com/en-gb/news/world/tesla-of-euthanasia-death-capsule-that-kills-occupant-in-seconds-to-be-used-for-first-time/ar-BB1ptFCA?ocid=socialshare&pc=DCTS&cvid=bfbae116b85d4ff29b48208b9791e7f6&ei=27

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 Turns out that Dave's third eye couldn't handle the thorny moral dilemma of whether or not Dave should murder his insane wife, and simply popped out.  It fell on to the floor with a plopping sound and rolled into a gap in the skirting, where it shrivelled up and turned into a walnut-soaked-in-vinegar-like thing.  One day in the future a child will find it, and that child will

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 Safe to say the world has pretty much lost its shit at the moment.   Everything feels out of control.  Bonkers people in charge everywhere.  Bonkers people protesting about stuff that makes me wonder if we're inhabiting the same universe. Is it time to find a suitable cave in which to sit the whole thing out?   Do I dig a bunker in the garden - or under

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*Dave's third eye is speaking*   Dave - you must face reality.  Val has clearly gone completely insane.  Not only that - she's homicidal.  To use a possibly off-putting but descriptive technical term, Dave, your wife is a homicidal maniac.   This is a highly dangerous situation. You must deal with it.   I'm sorry to have to say this but this whole

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 Checking the old link in my bio that supposedly clicks through to Northwords Now and find it no longer takes you to the relevant page as they have updated their system.  I'm not surprised given it's 13 years old. They now save back issues as PDFs so here is a link to that.  17.pdf (northwordsnow.co.uk)  I've been living off that review/mention by Tony Ross for 13 years,

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 'Dave and Val have got a new income generation scheme.   I'm telling you two because you're in the zone age-wise and you might be interested.'  Tuppence emptied the last crumbs of a bag of pickled onion Monster Munch into his mouth and belched loudly. 'Meaning that you're both old.''That's not funny Tuppence.  As if we hadn't already heard about the holistic 

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 'Dave we've got our first guest in the holistic voluntary self euthanasia care space and I've just realised we've got two big problems.  Man up please.''You mean the killing yurt.'  murmured Dave, who had his back to Val as he replaced the battery in his trail cam.'Number one - they've got a needle phobia and they don't like tea, you're going to have to inject them Dave because I

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 'I wonder if I can somehow remove my third eye', thought Dave.  'I don't think I can cope with being in a permanent state of enlightenment.  I feel I need some Valium or something.  Something to bring me down...''Dave!  What are you doing out there!  Get those logs chopped right now,  the mobile sauna needs topping up, my hot stones are going cold and I've run

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Happy 83rd birthday to a genius whose wonderful songs have been friends to me for as long as I can remember.  

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'How are we going to find the treasure if we can't get Dave to lend us his third eye?''Oh who knows.  Can we be bothered even looking - even if he does lend us it?  Frankly,  I'm not sure. We've got through life this far without having treasure and we're doing OK.  Bit of victimless thievery, bit of starvation now and then, threadbare clothes, no holidays and no fancy cars but

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 'I'm not deploying my third eye for shit!' snapped Dave. 'How dare you even ask me that.  It's for metaphysical purposes ONLY, plus seeing in the dark.  Which is great because I'll never need to use night vision goggles again.  It'll be much easier when I'm out setting the wildlife cam looking for pine martens and owls and stuff.''Burglars.  Rats.  Cockroaches.&nbsp

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 I have two summer projects underway.   One is to explore the Sidlaw hills as much as I can,  probably working from west to east-ish.  I'm using David Dorward's 2004 book and Landranger Ordnance Survey map 53 for this.  My inclination is to avoid the busy areas and certainly to avoid weekends, holidays and hot weather.  When I factor in my own time

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 'So Dave's got a third eye.  I wonder if it's an Xray one and if he can use it to find the treasure.' 'Kind of like a metal detector.'  I pushed eight sizzling rashers of back bacon round the frying pan.'Yes.  Without the kit and having to get permission from the landowner.''Quite.  Brown sauce or red on your sandwich Geoffrey?  Or perhaps throw caution to the

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Literally a toad in a hole 'It's because it would be too sickly without it,' explained Dave.'Yes but it seems so jarring,' said Tuppence.'That's the whole point,' said Dave, patiently. 'You need the contrast. The flowing melodic bits and then the jarring bits.   The counterpoint if you like.  It's like happiness and sadness, the darkness and the light.  Sweet and sour or

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 Returning to the point at which Dave arrived at a cottage and a pair of glittering eyes were peering at him through the letterbox.Dave spent some time in that cottage.  The glittering eyes fired a tranquilliser dart through the letterbox, paralysing Dave then dragging him inside where he lay on a threadbare settee for who knows how long.Visions came and went.  Feverish dreams of

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 We had forgotten entirely that the T-G intended opening Tupfinder Towers to the public.  And fortunately for us,  he opened it - charging sixpence, to include a nice cup of tea, one of Mrs T-G's black sausage rolls, a pickled worm and entry to the castle and grounds - the day after we leapt into the oubliette in a hail of buckshot.The first visitor was our friend Dave, fresh from

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'You've been my friends for years,' said the T-G, cocking his shotgun. 'How could you do this?  Stealing from me.  It's an absolute disgrace.  You only had to ask and I'd have let you turn the rug over to see the map, if indeed that's what it is.  But it's too late for that now.   Just get in the oubliette before I open fire.'We were teetering on the rim of a forty

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 Thankfully, the T-G hadn't bothered to lock up and it was fairly easy to gain access by sliding a stout piece of card between the two casements.   Tuppence and I rolled up the Aubusson, tied it with rope, and shoved it out of the window.  There was a lot of rustling as it slid down the ivy and the Moon was shining brightly upon the castle walls leaving us quite exposed to

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A Map - but not THE MapLast night Tuppence came round for his tea.  'It's your favourite.  Mince and tatties!'  I waved the potato masher as he climbed through the hole in the wall.  'Oh no.  That's much too bland.''What?  But you've always liked mince.''That was then.  This is now and I only like mince when it tastes of something.''I'm putting plenty

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I can relate to this, and the more I'm thinking about it, the more it makes sense to me in all kinds of ways, as a person who has become very ungrounded at times.   As I understand it, you have to have a framework, nothing rigid, but for the purposes of sanity you have to be grounded in the familiarity of a certain routine, certain domestic rituals such as the pipe and slippers perhaps,

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