Bugger that for a lark, that's false advertising!
So anyway, this is going to be one of those amalgamation posts, because I don't exactly have one complete, coherent post in mind, but I do have lots of little interesting gobbets and chunks to toss you, so Sit. Stay. Read.
Does the name "Pavlov" ring a bell?
I have to mention to you a very cool site if you like classical music, which I do. If you don't, well, skip a bit.
ClassicCat.com is a very cool place indeed. It's just links to pages and pages of free classical music. Damn, how can you go wrong? Me, I can't decide what to download first. But don't worry, I'm making up for lost time by downloading everything I can find.
Wot, me greedy?
ed. If you don't like donkeys, then you might want to skip this bit, too.
I never knew this, but found out today that donkeys, those lovable old critters are also excellent guardians of the young. Donkeys will willingly guard the young of other species, be they goats, sheep, what have you. If a donkey is in a pasture with little ones and the group is attacked by a predator, most parents will flee the area, leaving the little 'uns to fend for themselves. Donkeys, however, will defend the little ones from predation, by whatever happens along.
Brilliant! I'm going to have to get the pasture finished and buy me a jenny before I get my goat herd, that's all there is to it.
ed. If you don't like work or very strange metaphors (or sailing ships) you might want to scroll on down.
Work. Bleugh. It's been...heh. Interesting. As in the Chinese curse. Detroit is in Michigan ("No!" I hear you say...hah.) at her grandmother's funeral, so VW and I are gamely struggling along. Yesterday was insane fun, for some reason we both took leave of our senses around about 1, and the rest of the day was a giggling snort-fest. Today, hoping to recapture that mood, I failed miserably. VW was up to her slender neck in piles of charts, the Butter Troll is preparing, we think, to go critical mass, which if you've seen BT you know that's a lot of mass I'm talking about, and it was Friday, so we were all tense and anxious to get out and get on with our weekend lives.
But, the good news is that P-Diddy, our new Director, actually has his head out of his ass and is using it. Outstanding! Things are changing. Slowly, but changing. I think of it as someone trying to turn an old three-masted sailing ship: before any turning happens there's a lot of running around and yelling and buckets of tar being knocked over and sheep chased out of the way, and people getting billhooks stuck in their eyes, and sails unspooling all over the place suffocating sailors and pushing them over the railings into the shark-infested ocean and the masts are all falling off before everything comes together like a well-oiled machine running way past it's RPM range with a dry oil pump, just seconds before it flings itself into a thousand red-hot pieces of shrapnel that goes scything through the air into the powder kegs that were stacked on the one wall, and the mountains of oily rags that were piled beside those powder kegs, and let's not forget the huge open cans of gasoline that someone forgot to seal up and store elsewhere.
Yeah, something like that.
ed. If you don't like birds, well, we're at the end of the post, so you can just sod off.
The red-tailed hawks have been out and about a great deal, and I just wanted to mention that seeing a Red-Tailed Hawk, fierce airborne predator that they are, sitting on a high-tension line in the middle of a pouring down rainstorm can be both the most sadly comical thing you could possibly imagine until you realise that it's STILL HUNTING, and is simply waiting for a rabbit to creep out of the field, or a big rat to leap out and run across the road between fields or, failing that, maybe a really dumb guy in a truck might stop and roll down the window to get a better view.
Nature really, REALLY scares me sometimes.
And now, some lyrics.
A SAILOR AIN'T A SAILOR (The Last Shanty)
Well, me father often told me, when I was just a lad,
A sailor's life was very hard, the food was always bad.
But now I've joined the Navy, I'm onboard a Man o' War
And now I found a sailor ain't a sailor any more.
Don't haul on the rope. Don't climb up the mast.
If you see a sailing ship it might be your last.
Just get your civvies ready for another run ashore.
A sailor ain't a sailor ain't a sailor any more.
We've nearly got a mess. He says we have it soft.
It wasn't like this in his day when he was up aloft.
We like our bunks and sleeping bags, but what's a hammock for?
Swinging from the deckhead or lying on the floor?
Well, they gave us an engine that first went up and down.
Then with more technology the engine went around.
We know of steam and diesel but what's a mainyard for?
A stoker ain't a stoker with a shovel any more.
Well, they gave us an Aldis lamp so we can do it right.
They gave us a radio we signal day and night.
We know our codes and ciphers, but what's a semaphore?
A bunting tosser doesn't toss the bunting any more.
Two cans of beer a day and that's your bleeding lot.
Now we get an extra one because they've stopped the tot.
So we'll put on our civvy clothes and find a pub ashore.
A sailor's still a sailor just like he was before.
Probably copyright to someone or other.