I know I’ve said this before but: “I don’t remember people.” It’s not ’cause I don’t like particular people; it’s not ’cause particular people aren’t memorable; it’s not ’cause I can’t talk to particular people. I just don’t remember people.
Folk I meet while walking, anglers, dog walkers or other walkers, often greet me as if they recognise me, they probably do. In order to not appear totally oafish I tend to meet everyone with a nod, a smile and a cheery “Hi”, as if I know them.
Folk I’ve known and spoken with for yonken are the exception* and possession of a dog also ups your chances of recognition. Names: that’s another of my many failings.
*Not invariably – as related elsewhere, I once blanked my brother.
Apropos nothing at all
Aside: Why is ‘I’ the only pronoun that’s always capitalised in English? Indeed it’s the only non-proper noun that is; correct me if I’m wrong.
Mondegreen: A mondegreen is a mishearing or misinterpretation of a phrase as a result of near-homophony, in a way that gives it a new meaning (wiki). Continue reading →
Winterfylleð* was the Old English name for the month which became October. It apparently means winter filling or possibly winter full moon. It was nicked by J.R.R. Tolkien† for use in Lord of the Rings.
*ð was pronounced very like ‘th’ so it was winterfilth †Tolkien‘s biography, for the interested.
I read a lot of books, not so many now – t’internet takes up an awful lot of my attention. I recall waaaaay back in Sheffield Central Library picking a book and being scorned by my father: “What do you want that for? Elves and dwarves‡ are kids stuff.” It was, of course, The Hobbit, or There and Back Again. That probably marks the beginning of my lifelong fascination with science fiction and especially with fantasy. ‡or is it dwarfs?
More on my reading matter later.
Meanwhile to carry on in October in this two thousand and sixteenth year of the Common Era:
Sunday 9th October 2016
Colours of autumn
I love skies so here’s a couple. The first is a view of the pond with a patch of blue above. In the second there’s rather more sky but considerably less blue; it’s taken looking almost due south from ‘Lady Lee Bridge’ on the canal.
Did I mention the alder beetle? Once thought to be extinct in UK, plentiful round here.
Trees on Shireoaks Woodlands are really turning on the autumn colour.
Given the hour and clear sky I always try to get a shot of the moon. Continue reading →
A bit (a little bit (a very little bit)) more catch up.
Continuing with just pics. Mouse over for captions, click to embiggen.
By the way: a lot of my walks I record using “map my walkLINK” you can join for nowt and then see where I’ve been. I’ll link when I remember – click on ‘MMW’ (I often forget to turn it off, so there’s a lot of wazzocking around at my flat after I’m home)
Another of those panorama shots of the pond. Getting fed up with ’em yet? Tough!
Starlings are really underrated, they’re beautiful birds.
Think this is a pair of great crested grebes. (As opposed to just two hanging about together) Continue reading →
Did I mention that I’ve bought one of those things to cut cheese consisting of a small slab of marble with a wire?
Here ’tis – with some Extra Mature Cheddar on half a Tuc biccie. I usually pig out on Stilton but my local M&S food recently had a fridge breakdown and (horrors!)chucked a load of cheese away. Isn’t that a bit daft? Cheese is basically rotten milk – all M&S’s is sealed so how could it go off(er)? In passing why does cheese have a ‘BEST BEFORE’ date? Continue reading →
Thirteen is, to Westerners at least, an unlucky number.Let me google that for you I always thought that the only reason was the presence, as the thirteenth to arrive, of Judas Iscariot at the ‘last supper’. Like so many things bible related though this turns out to be only part of the story. A lot of the reasoning lies with the idea, prevalent from Babylonian times at least, that twelve was a ‘perfect’ number. Think of twelve months in a year and twice twelve hours in a day – inherited from the Babylonians. So adding one to perfection could only mar it.
Apparently there was a similar thirteenth visitor at a Norse God’s feast: Loki the trickster.
Apollo 13 – say no more!
Fear of the number thirteen has its own name: Triskaidekaphobia. Friday 13th is a whole other kettle of fish.
On with the pics. Please click on ’em or visit the linked Flickr page to see ’em bigger. Continue reading →