Life's Remedy A Melody Floating On

So, today is my 36th birthday.

I'm 36.

I have absolutely no idea what that's meant to mean. Am I supposed to think a certain way, be doing something specific by now, act in a certain manner, earn a particular salary? What are you meant to be at 36? Is there some kind of average consensus and if there is then I don't think it's me.

I've never really been one to celebrate birthdays as the passing of time, which is why I'm always very bad at having birthday parties. I tend to see my birthdays as a more reflective day, a time to look back and see if I've learnt from the past and to look forward at where I want to be heading next. It's probably something we should do every day but a birthday's a decent enough milestone to judge things by. A whole series of orbits of the earth around the sun from the moment you first appeared on earth.

I find our fascination and loathing of aging to be most strange. And quite sad. I feel as if as a culture we're constantly trying to offset the inevitable rather than embracing the idea and then just going off and enjoying life whilst it's still there. We can't fight age and we can't fight death. To deny this is to deny nature and to deny nature is ultimately to waste all the beauty that it has to offer. And it doesn't change the fact that there is an end, somewhere down the line. So instead we spend millions trying to look younger, offset the signs of age and then cast off our elderly as if they were a plague, in doing so somehow affirming that perhaps we will be the first ones to be immortal. When one day it will be these people reaping the fears of aging that they have sown, cast off themsleves as the next generation blunders ahead into a sea of anti-wrinkle creams and hair dye.

And yet the most beautiful people I've ever seen are those who wear the signs of their life proudly, with dignity and distinction. Every line, scar, blemish, wrinkle tells the story of their life and for those who have lived lie to the fullest it is a wonder that no artist, poet, musician or film-maker has ever matched.

So here I am, 36 years on this planet. 36 years of experience that is my own and no-one elses. 36 years of tools to discover, challenges to face, changes to experience and conquer; each year that has passed and each year that is to follow the same, each one to be taken on its own merits. I hope that I will always feel this way on my birthdays each and every year I have left: looking forward to what life has to throw at me rather than retreating further from it. Because as far as the numbers go. Well they're just numbers really.

There's a SNUFF song that never ceases to plaster a smile across my face. It's maybe a little cheesy but I like it:

I catch my thoughts and I pray that love will warm your day
If life is cold and cruel, I pray love warms to you
If the seasons turn against you, the winter wind should get you down
If life is cold and cruel I pray love warms to you.



Tunes: SNUFF: Sunny Places (from the album Demmamussabebonk)

Coming Over All Tim Robbins

At the end of The Shawshank Redemption Morgan Freeman walks across the sand towards Tim Robbins who's sanding his boat. I think that what Freeman's character is thinking at that moment is: "Hot damn, we've got a boat!" And Robbins is thinking: "Thank Christ, now I have some help..."

There are, I believe, two schools of thought to the sanding of boats. There are the romantics and idealists who see it as an honourable task: the care and attention taken to the noblest of all travelling vessels in man's eternal quest to battle the greatest of the elements; the constant struggle of our ultimate destiny with total freedom. Then there is everyone else who thinks it's just nuts.

None of the first group actually own boats.

My hands are rubbed raw, everything hurts, I have splinters with splinters in. There is so much more to do it's quite terrifying.

Of course I loved every last skin flaking minute of it. I'd still be sanding now if it wasn't a) dark and b) I'm physically incapable of doing any more.

This past week at work has been what management trainers would call 'challenging'. This is possibly why they fall only a few paces above traffic wardens and third world dictators in the food chain. If I want to be challenged I'll try talking to someone in a civil manner before I've had a shower.

Tunes: Pearl Jam: Pearl Jam

Q: How Do You Make Five People Really Miserable?

A: Go with four friends to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse Of The Black Pearl.

This highly unpolished lump of steaming excrement is quite possibly one of the worst films I have seen for ages. It is as Ant put it, as bad as you expected the first one to be.

Only much much worse.

Dull, unimaginiative, badly everythinged and wasting a classic character in Johnny Depp's Captain Jack Sparrow.

Two word review: utter fuck. I'd rather eat my own shit than have to endure that again.

EDIT: yeah, its Dead Man's Chest. Sorry. So incensed I couldn't even remember its name.

Saturday Evening

You know how hard it is to get a swan to pose?

Look At The Size Of That Thing

After their arduous climb the little green adventurers came to the mouth of the giant ice cave. Their jaws fell open as they saw the behemoth: a vessel from another world; a monument to ancient Gods...

I also like:

Pod Solo, Princess Pea-a and Peabacca race towards the Millenium Frozenbagofpeas on the planet Hothpoint whilst being chased by the evil Darth Broad Bean.

And All Your Talk Of Such Burdens, No It Won't Bring Me And All My Friends Down

Despite a particularly rude awakening (that's spawned a new mooring saying: "Change your t-shirt"), it's been a grand weekend. Chuffy's shed her waterproofs and had a bath. And she looks just swell thank you.

I'm also now on my third Mac of the year, fluttering between the G's - it's a 4-3-4 formation looking for a boot up to 5... and now the fifth machine from which I've penned this blog. Apropos of nothing that must mean something right? Or is that the other way round. Anyway it makes me want to cry sometimes.

Butterflies and birds have been flittering across town and dragon flies do their flittery glittery thing across the surface of the still water. On Thursday night I watched a shooting star dart across the night sky before flashing green and exploding into a glitter of colours. Yesterday I took some time out to sprawl across a sofa on the end of one of the pontoons and feel the water buffer itself below me as the boats passed by. If I could have given you all even a tenth of the peace I felt at that moment it would have been the best present ever.

I have a new favourite song. I'll type out my favourite part at the end and I don't think the band will sue me because I know their label manager's sister so I must be safe yeah? I know I'm a hippy and all but here's a snippet from today's Guardian online first.

"...a series of air strikes which left 30 civilians dead."

"We will sing pretty songs about love, and we will fight if that's what it takes, and
we won't back down.
No we won't shut our eyes and go to sleep.
We will write all over your walls, and we will dance to no music at all. We will do
what it takes to get through to you."

As long as there are people there is hope for humanity.

Shout out to Evil for the new tunes.
.
Tunes: Tilly And The Mule: Wild Like Children (Go to Summer - Music - Wild Like Children - The Ice Storm, Big Gust And You

Finding Old Bottles, Blistering My Hands

I love the summer but it gives me neck ache.

I can see now the old fairytale waking the princess with a kiss metaphore. A good snog definitely perks you up!

Think I'll paint my toenails again tonight.

I'll have to rant about Mallards later. Evil fuckers.


Tunes: The Rainmakers: Tornado

I Can't See The Forest For The Matchsticks Sometimes

Just as everything was getting back to normal, I turned the iBook on last night and fizz pop, nothing happened. Well not quite nothing. It made some clattering sounds and never quite made it into boot up mode. So I'm offline at home AGAIN. It may be easiest if I go back to pen and paper and Christmas chain letters...

I still haven't seen my email for about a month.

Just in case anyone thought the 'Tough Shit' comment was a little harsh, it wasn't meant to be. Really not. But it's also true!

We all received letters from the landlord last week informing us that the mooring had become a little too messy - we have more dried plants than a florists right now and enough scrap metal to build a large scarp metal pile. We are obliged under our mooring leases to keep the area looking pretty and it's a fair point. Sunday afternoon we filled a skip load from the sheds under the railway bridge and there's probably a couple of skip loads to go. It was fun and I managed to retreive some sheet aluminium that will make a rather fine splashback behind the oven. So good things come from getting dirty and sweaty.

Come to think of it good things pretty much always come from getting dirty and sweaty.

But back to the letter. Each one of us had a few things we have to do and mine, surprise surprise was paint Chuffy. Something I was going to do anyway. But now there's no going back.It's going to take some time, much graft and probably a whole lot of swearing. And it has to be completed before the end of August which means that all my spare waking hours are pretty much taken. Thankfully lunches and the odd post work drink / movies are still on the cards although I feel like I'm making excuses now.

Hopefully tonight I'll have some more news on the Mac.

Next time I get back in here I think I need to have a rant about Mallards.

Anyone out there like Mallards prepare to be disappointed as I uncover the hideous truth behind these foul fowl.

I am listening to A LOT of Rainmakers right now.

It's great.


Tunes: The Rainmakers: Flirting With The Universe

We Sing Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah

It was either Sunday or Monday that was the halfway point of the year, I can't quite remember offhand. So time for a quick catch up.

Life on the mooring has settled down now. Mike's off in Somerset and is, as expected, greatly missed. Since he'd been staying on Chuffy with me for the last week or so, I took the opportunity to grab an extra day off on Thursday and spent four days working my arse off on the back bedroom. Photos will follow but I'm (and I hope you'll pardon the pun) 'chuffed' to bits. OK, so it still needs curtains but on the whole it rocks big time.I didn't finish until 6.30pm on Sunday and on Saturday I worked through till 10.30 with only a couple of hours off to watch England be England on the football field once again. Muppets...

The internet connection was resolved with a £12 cable (doh!) so, although I'm posting during a late lunch break, we should be back to some regular posting. There's been so much I've missed.

Work's good. Busy. No more to say on that right now. This isn't about work.

I'm very aware that I haven't seen that much of many people this year. And almost nothing of even more. Compared to previous years there are cave-dwelling fakirs who are more socially motivated than I am. This is not meant as a reflection on anyone, nor is it a sign of deep depression or impending doom.

I've loved the few and far between times I have seen people, but I'm afraid there's a lady in my life who's demanding almost all of my attention this year and it's unlikely to change at least until we're well in to Autumn and the rain is falling constantly. This weekend I'll start taking a sander to her, spend a few weeks stripping her down, and then slowly and lovingly start filling her and finally getting her dressed again. (But do I stay green or go blue? Something in me says blue's the way forward.) This all has to be done before the days start disappearing and winter rests its claws on the horizon. It's no small task.

I can't wait though. I've rarely been happier than the time I've spent working on her. Last Sunday when I sat down to see everything finished, cleaned and put away you could hardly contain the grin that spread acros my face. Satisfaction in only the way something you've grafted long and hard for can give, and there's little more satisfying than that.

So Chuffy's my big priority and if she's a drain on my time then I hope you'll all forgive me.

And if you don't.

Tough shit!

: )


Tunes: Iron Maiden: Live at Donnington