in virtue's clothing

  • 30th Nov, 2009 at 9:21 AM
cleanskies
Cold, cold, wet, cold. I grew up on a smallholding, sleeping in the cheeseloft of a 300 year old cottage heated with woodburners* during the better years, in an unheated caravan for the worse (or, when the snow got thick, on the sofa in the living room, next to last night's fire). This back to the land game is an eternal romantic popular in the UK; there are children, I'm sure, doing the same right now, huddling up to their parents' copies of Winter in River Cottage, dreaming of someday being someplace where they can not be cold, cold, wet, cold.

I've been looking at how I could save energy, carbon, and money! Except, of course, that I can't. I could run my heating for fewer hours or at a lower setting. Except I'm already running it for two hours at 18, which is about the minimum. Any lower, and the damp cold begins to cling, and your house begins to fail at habitability and fall apart.

Insulation is going ahead, but it won't save me money. I've done the home energy calculators, which optimistically advised me that my saving per annum could be £113-117ish. This would require me insulating the loft, replacing three small single-glazed windows with double glazed windows, replacing the front door and either drylining or exterior coating my exterior walls (three sides of the property). It's obviously not going to save me money**, I'm unconvinced of the environmental benefits (everything involved will have a manufacture cost, after all) and in the end will come down to a purely selfish decision; something I do in order not to be cold, cold, wet, cold.

*We mostly used a stand of alder trees as fuel. They grow fast and chop easily, but the wood takes a long time to dry. We also burned coal and smokeless fuel, firelighters and other types of wood, including some things I'm sure you don't want to think about being chopped down and burned, like oak and yew.
**Please feel free to run my maths again, it's mildly amusing.

oh the excitement

  • 29th Nov, 2009 at 8:16 PM
hmmmm
In last night's epic rainstorm, water started coming through unexpected parts of the back door. I knew it needed some attention, but you know how it is. You're looking for decent weather, when you're not doing anything else, and a clear space of 4-6 hours. What are the chances?

I feel rotten, like a poor protector of the household. While I'm off messing around with -- well, work, mostly -- I'm slacking on the chores which keep the house safe. Well, I have a pile of items waiting to be deployed now -- putty, wood filler, exterior waterproof woodstain. Now I just need a break in the rain, and a few hours, in daylight, when I'm not doing anything else...

Tourist stuff this weekend, as visitors were in town; Oxford Castle Unlocked, the new Pitt Rivers, the Natural History Museum. The new Pitt Rivers is eerily similar to the old one, except for the amazing wow moment when you first enter the musuem and see that enormous totem pole. Even the key pieces (the mummy, the Papuan feather cloaks) are in the same place. The Natural History Musuem has some new insects upstairs; leaf-mimic caryatids, beautiful and bizarre. Oxford Castle Unlocked is somewhat gruesome and creepy; the tour guide lingered on the horrible history of torture, execution, plague and punishment. I was worried, but it seemed to be fine for a five-year-old.

The knees got a savage pummelling from a nice doctor who reports some inflammation but no obvious ligament damage. She suggests a wear-and-tear injury complicated by over-exercise and periods of inacivity, advises regular gentle exercise and ibuprofen to control pain and inflamation for a month and then further investigations if the problem is persisting. Which sounds fine to me (and pretty much what I was doing already).

moments between posts

  • 27th Nov, 2009 at 11:30 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 10:01 A man leant against the wall of his house, on the phone, body rigid with amused embarassment, accidentally locked myself out, can you...?
  • 10:05 Two boys on their way out for today, one suddenly turns and (with panache) bowls a tennis ball down the passage between the houses, howzat!
  • 11:27 Yesterday we were (mostly avoiding) sharing conference space with a dental conference. There were bowls of sweets on all the trade stands.
  • 18:21 Watching the winter lights lantern procession go by from hotel chocolat. Look! Say the children waving the lanterns, Hotel chcoclat!
  • 18:29 Modern art oxford's yard is smaller than I expected, but has winter pimms, world music, and a man with a hacksaw taping together pan pipes.
  • 18:50 Just walked past a wildly grinning camboy, camera strapped to his forehead like a cyclopean eye (or a cyclist with unusual head furniture
    ).

moments between posts

  • 24th Nov, 2009 at 11:30 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 17:10 Leaves in the gutters; leaves on the sofas. Behind glass, first of the christmas trees, ghost white like the feathers of a cheap turkey.

whereas I surround myself with...

  • 23rd Nov, 2009 at 11:32 PM
artistatwork
Well, obviously I wasn't at Thought Bubble this weekend. I hear good things of it, though. Mostly about alcohol. Must be the difference in price per pint between London and Leeds.

Instead I was at home, doing a bit more gardening-for-pay, nursing my knee (it's improving, and at this rate may recover before I get to see a doctor) and trying out my new heated drying rack from Coopers of Stortford (the Innovations Catalogue's sensible big brother). It has of course been christened kitty paradise, and now its primary purpose (drying clothes) is secondary to providing a toasty perch for tiny kittens.

This week's strip, Epiphany on Queen Street, is (of course) not this week's strip at all, we're going to be in the catch-up zone for a while. It in fact dates from the second or third week in July of this year, and is therefore a Jeremy Dennis strip, not a Jeremy Day strip. More of this nonsense to follow. For now, though, a dubious realisation:


Epiphany on Queen Street (detail)
Epiphany on Queen Street (detail)
This one has philosophical issues.


why dubious? )

moments between posts

  • 23rd Nov, 2009 at 11:30 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 08:28 @jpstacey I've a xmas compilation by Nervous Testpilot/A Scholar and a Physician but even that is alltoofrquently unlistenable and bizarre.

moments between posts

  • 20th Nov, 2009 at 11:30 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 10:16 Our green box went flying in the high winds. The teenagers next door told us it was last seen blowing through traffic on iffley road.
  • 10:46 I?ve left the kitten and the roo,ba sharing the living room. Will Harlequin Day robot fighter strike again, or can they give peace a chance?
  • 11:01 She wears bright pink tights under opaque schoolish grey tights, each respectable step releases hints of outrageousness that lurk beneath.
  • 12:47 The shops are full of party clothes. A peacock scarf with devore velvet eyes; a grey dress with silver sequins falling down like rain.
  • 13:43 About to start composing a legend about combibos mince pies. It starts: Once, in a city square full of red and golden autumn leaves...

let's get ready to roomba!

  • 20th Nov, 2009 at 10:27 AM
Harlequin kitten
Terrifying moment of horror! I spotted Margaret Beckett (the black-and-white cat from down the way) on the back fence. She was being very still (as cats often are) and has a slightly strangled look naturally, and for a moment I thought (horror of horrors) that she'd somehow hung herself on my solar-powered fairy lights. I dashed downstairs in my dressing gown and ran out back -- at which point of course Margaret gave me her usual timid stare and darted away into next door's garden. I spent the next ten minutes up on a garden chair in my dressing gown checking and rehanging the fairy lights to eliminate any possibility of a dangling loops nevertheless; better safe than sorry. Neigbours probably think I'm mad.

Going in a bit late this morning as the day got extended a bit yesterday. Two days in a row eating at 9-10pm! Long hours but good work, and the odd ambivalence that brings.

My knee's improved after a week containing a lot less deskwork and sitting down. We'll see how it goes next week. I may have to do some further tweaking of my chair.

Visual notes: the 80s, Comiket, the blinds in the morning, kitten stalks the Dorset Knobs.

apparently the 80s ICA: Comiket
the blinds in the morning kitten stalks the dorset knobs

moments between posts

  • 18th Nov, 2009 at 11:30 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 09:29 There's a tree down on the towpath. Someone's already torn a bicycle-sized hole in the branches. I pick my way through twigs and birdsnests.
  • 09:57 Wind has swept leaves from the hedges. Through a gap, two magpies foraging in deep brown leaves, sideways glance of iridescent suspicion.
  • 18:12 In awe @j4 and her tree-tearing ways. Also at the amazing new automatic tellers in oxford post office. And at nearly but not losing my hat.

spambots are giving me advice!!!

  • 18th Nov, 2009 at 5:42 PM
okgreycomputer
There's a new spambot which I'm going to call Hi You. It sends a single line of advice and a link to a dodgy site in Russia. While the link is clearly useless (unless you hunt and study viruses I guess) the advice does often occasionally once in a blue moon hit the nail squarely on the thumb:

What if you try eating vegetables instead of fast food? Taking pills is easier!

I think this one was actually meant for [info]oxfordslacker. I'm not much of a fast food fan, to be honest, and keep forgetting to take my pills.

Pay attention in order not to let yourself soak in this depression forever!

Wise words indeed, though you neglected to tell me what to pay attention to. I think it's probably equally important not to pay attention to some things. Perhaps you meant: pay attention to [nice things] and do not pay attention to [nasty things] in order not to let yourself soak in this depression forever?

How much money have you already spent on useless things?

Oh, masses. I bought a pair of jeggings on saturday! They are helping to keep my knees warmed and compressed though, so perhaps they're not (strictly speaking) useless. The glucosamine is probably open to debate. And the tiny green dolls shoe with a pompom on it that Harlequin decided to carry downstairs yesterday. She does love her tiny shiny things!

Sometimes the pain killer youre used to doesn't agree with your stomach

A timely warning. I'm trying to keep my painkiller consumption down, but I don't actually have ulcers yet. I'm sure I'll be fine. Also, well done for getting one apostrophe in there, but you really needed two.

In other news, my head is killing me. I got a migraine sparkle this morning, I wonder if the real thing is to follow? I thought I was done with all that.

The Chiropractorrrrr!

  • 16th Nov, 2009 at 11:12 PM
dontlooknow

The Chiropractorrrrr!
Originally uploaded by jinty.

Oh, I wish. We create the superheroes we want, right?

there might be a problem

  • 16th Nov, 2009 at 12:14 AM
headachey
I've not really been posting about it because, heck, boring, but there may be a bit of a problem with my knees. The symptoms (crepitus, locking and giving way, pain exacerbated by inactivity, walking on slopes or steps) are suggestive of something called various things but surely the most ironic is "runner's knee".

I don't run. Well, sometimes upstairs, or for the bus, or if I'm late. But I don't run. You know, because I have to be careful of my knees.

pain )

moments between posts

  • 15th Nov, 2009 at 11:30 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 10:53 Swiss cuisine includes rosti and steak, ravioli and trout mousse and an anxious swiss chef who gave us amuse-bouches of plum and parma ham.
  • 10:57 It was a very odd thing to find tucked in the corner of a huge redbrick booze barn full of big screens, steady drinkers and occasional dogs.

moments between posts

  • 14th Nov, 2009 at 11:30 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 15:19 Assembling and turning on a new light is one of the great pleasures'
  • 15:21 of a grey november day. That said, a moment between storms to strip out the dead morning glory wouldn't go amiss.
  • 20:59 Eating at the pub on Abingdon road with the big 'Swiss Cuisine' sign outside it. It's not just fondue! We're also having chocolate mousse.
  • 22:12 Drunken man pulls his shirt up to show his dining companion his nipples, then insults the chef by saying the mousse is like lemon soup. Eek.

moments between posts

  • 13th Nov, 2009 at 11:30 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 14:38 A young man feeds his friend a morsel of bread, on tip-toes, in the rain, on the streetcorner, both laughing so hard he can't aim straight.

moments between posts

  • 12th Nov, 2009 at 11:42 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 09:08 Walking alongside the river, grey coat open, showing my red/orange top. A robin, startled, starts to berate me; too close to his hawthorn!
  • 09:14 A small boat called disco volante; flutter of long-tailed tits; mumble of geese fluffed up for winter; muddy colours on moving water; gulls.
  • 14:12 Oops- abrupt silver tide of pensioners just as we're discussing which is most blatant: whale tails, arse antlers or the bumster pantflash?
  • 21:12 Combating crepitus of the knee with ibuprofen, elevation and stripy knee-warmers. May also apply kitten or microwavable triceratops later.

Eddie Campbell at Comica, part 2

  • 12th Nov, 2009 at 10:15 PM
contaminantalert
As promised, page two of the notes. I was increasingly distracted by the yarn-spinning by this stage, so it's a bit thinner. The gay bingo happens regularly at the ICA, and is (it seems) raucous enough to float up to the ?third ?fourth floor, and occasionally a call intruded a little. We had to leave via the back door to avoid it, later.

The interesting things here (to me) are Eddie talking about how he makes mistakes when talking that he can avoid when the narrative is confined within the frames of a comic; and that small, supposedly unimportant things can still make for legendary tales and astonishing stories.

In other news I've discovered what kitten for "stop eating the kangaroo paw flowers" is. You should point at the kitten and say "joob joob joob joob joob" in an outraged tone. No idea if it works for other cut flowers.


Eddie Campbell at the ICA 2
Eddie Campbell at the ICA 2
He was talking about fraud and creative accountancy.

Eddie Campbell at Comica, part 1

  • 11th Nov, 2009 at 10:54 PM
shitshoveller
As [info]jinty mentioned, we went to the ICA to watch Eddie Campbell (Alec, Bacchus, From Hell) in conversation with Arnold Brown, two very different individuals combined to shed light on both; a brainchild trick of (Comica organiser) Paul Gravett, Eddie Campbell's The Man at the Crossroads, still striking out towards that crossover comics audience that will (eventually) be pretty much everyone, if he has his way.

A delightful surprise in the audience was Jean-Paul Jennequin, an old contact from the queerzine years, now handsomely bearded and a pillar of the establishment, running the queer comics drop-in at Angoulême. You must drop in if you come next year, he says. Hehn.

In the signing queue, a woman doing her dissertation on autobiographical comics buttonholes us and we talk in odd spikes of thoughts for a bit; representations of friends, honesty, the shock of finding stories that you thought were about you in other people's works. Corinne Pearlman (I saw her on the way in) tells me she mentioned me in a lecture about female cartoonists; or was it just a picture? I don't know. Apparently the filming went wrong on that talk so it won't go on the website. It's Dyke TV all over again, something about me fails to commit to film.

Eddie remembers me (the woman called Jeremy!) from Bristol and I slip him a tiny minicomic. I'd entirely forgotten Bristol; it was quite buried in the memory of seeing him talk at the last ever UKCAC.

Here's the first page of my notes from the talk. The really significant statements are as follows:

[on the advantage an autobigraphical cartoonist has when it comes to coping with strange and difficult experiences] "When I'm in a panic, I can usually stop and figure out what might be useful in here to somebody else."

[on his early days as an artist] "If you'd told me I wasn't a real artist I would have been crestfallen." -- to which Paul and others of his circle replied: "We never told you that."

Page two tomorrow, click to see it bigger.


Eddie Campbell at Comica
Eddie Campbell at Comica
Lecture notes with false colours Paul Gravett fashion sketch. Alas, I did not get a second look at his amazing shoes...

moments between posts

  • 10th Nov, 2009 at 11:30 PM
envelopegirl
This also happened today:

  • 09:23 When you own a kitten, not only is there no point crying over spilt milk, it becomes a cause for celebration.
  • 09:40 Love getting the number 16 to work. I checked on googlemaps; the route's no longer, and I get trees and rivers instead of shops and spires.
  • 13:12 In the post office queue. The floor is wipe-clean now, and the bureau de change has morphed into a terrifying biometrics booth.
  • 13:18 It's a bit quieter and less scary than it used to be, under the shiny black eyes of the cctv, but no faster. I shall be late back to work.
  • 13:29 Had to edit from 'a lot less scary' to 'a bit less scary' as still some tattooed nutjob was muttering and trying to tear up the barriers.

the comforts of clutter

  • 10th Nov, 2009 at 6:04 PM
boyskeepswinging
At this time of year I go into dormouse mode, and start lining my nest with things. Shiny things, gleamy things, dreamy things, pretty things, tasty things. Like most British mammals, I don't entirely hibernate, but I like to spend a lot of time in my cosy nest, and I like my cosy nest to be well-lined, like a winter coat.

I think that being surrounded by beautiful, interesting things, things that remind you of good times, mementos and souvenirs, gizmos and gadgets and bit and bobs is deeply soothing --especially when the weather gets grim and going out seems like less and less of an agreeable prospect. You feel set up, taken care of. There's no shortage of entertainment and interest.

This isn't to say that I bring everything home, or that everything I bring home I keep. There's a world of difference between despairing clutter and that excresecence of mindfulness, that fills the homes of people who love stuff.

It's time for late harvest now, time to look at all of those random things that have followed me home in spring and summer, and see what will stay, and what will be passed along. To ask of them the usual questions:

Is it beautiful?
Is it useful?
Does it make me happy?
Is it entirely itself?
Can it be used to make something else?
Will I actually get round to doing that?

And then some to keep, and some to pass on. Some to hold onto and some to let go. Until everything is in its place (more or less) and the whole happy round can start again.