Shadow

Meg & I at the beach yesterday evening.

To swing a cat

Yes! For the first time in years, I can should I want to, put the car in the garage at night. I've purged, disposed and donated a countless amount of shit that we've accumulated in the place (read: chucked into any free corner).

I feel cleansed.

Mind, my family will make it their mission to fill it full of shit again by the end of the week I'm sure...

Common Darter

It's a beautiful day - blue, clear skies and hardly a breath of wind. A perfect day for a lunchtime run. These past few weeks have been 'neither nowt nor summint' and depressing, quite frankly, to run in. I grabbed this opportunity to get some sun on my back and went for a scarper.

The sweat is still drying, you'll be delighted to hear...

I have a fantastic 3.8 mile route that takes me through fields behind the office, around a nearby nature reserve lake, complete with otter family and back again. (28.3 minutes - average 7:38 minute/mile for the statistic geeks.)

It seems the local insect fauna feel the same way about the weather. If I disturbed one Common Darter, then I disturbed a hundred. Each second stride I took, another dragonfly would take flight. It was a beautiful thing to behold I tell you. They must have all hatched together sometime between now and yesterday afternoon as I ran then with no sight of them.

The critters are easy to photograph. This was taken with my cellphone. They're territorial beasts and will always land back in the center of their patch once they've chased any interlopers away. All it takes is a little patience.

Pretty little things, are they not?

The company of women

For all my flatulence, I've never been comfortable in the company of blokes. Football bemuses me, I'm bad at telling jokes and the daft, banal banter that gaggles of men under the influence of testosterone spout, serves no other purpose than to irk me. The enduring male friends that I do have (as opposed to pals), share this same character trait.

I pretend of course. Christ, I do it for a living. What is Psychiatry and leadership if not smoke and mirrors? I've memorised countless sporting cliches and learned enough about the offside rule to pull the wool over the eyes of all but the most ardent sports fan.

But no matter how hard I try, I just can't care about bloke stuff. I find the company of women much more comfortable to be within. I'm relaxed and infinitely more inclined to open up, chat and just be myself.

Women tend to discuss the kind of things I'm interested in you see. Which is primarily other people. This suits me down to the ground, as I don't have to talk about myself.

I save that for you, my dear reader.

The large geek collider

Last Wednesday, as I drove to work through the unremarkable, damp British nothingness, I witnessed something awesome. Such wonder, that I had to stop my car in a muddy ditch to experience as fully as I could.

Radio 4 was broadcasting live from the Large Hadron Collider as it was turned on for the first time.

I'm no sports fan. Quite why people get so exited about ball kicking is beyond me. But the next time I have to feign excitement at a sporting event, I'm going to repeat the air punches and GET IN's that I did when the LHC test was successful.

Better than England beating Germany in the world cup by a mile.

Watershed

Tomorrow morning Dominic will enter full time education. He'll take his first faltering steps upon the machine's conveyor belt. I've every confidence that he'll find his balance and prevail. When Meg went full time, we worried (needlessly), that her timid personality would get the better of her. Not so with Dom. Quite the opposite. The establishment should prepare itself for the onslaught that is our youngest progeny.

This marks a watershed moment for Miche & I. You see, for the past six years my wife has devoted herself entirely to our young. She gave up her work and all that goes with it. No small sacrifice.

I'd like to say that my grotesque salary has kept the wolves from the door during these single salary years. But that would be a lie. Miche's formidable management skills, self-discipline and relentless subjugation of her husband's excesses have left us debt free. Mortgage notwithstanding.

Later this month, Miche will receive her first salary payment in her new part time job. It will be met with a sigh of relief, a loosening of belts and a fucking good bottle of wine. I'm looking forward to testing the theory that a cheap bottle of Chablis is as good as an expensive one.

In lieu of a proper post

Next week will be quieter. So I will be unleashing multiple narrative posts on to an unsuspecting Internet. Brace yourself.

In the meantime, here's some spoils of exploring the grimier parts of Newcastle's Quayside early this morning;

Pretty little arachnid

Came across her the other day. Quite the beauty eh?

Still working...

...though I'm nearing completion of the three big projects I'm juggling right now.

Looking forward to some blogging.