Pig Sty Avenue

FFS

You'll need to click on it to read the notice properly.

contax II camera front , originally uploaded by anselpixel . It seems highly likely that Robert Capa took those D Day photos with one of these. Probably, he would have been unable to afford a Leica. I know how that feels. Mind you, according to this review , the Contax II could rival a Leica.

Current usage of the word "awesome" on the Internet sounds a bit odd to my ears. This is a picture of an awesome phenomenon; a photo of someone's cat on Flickr, say, is NOT awesome, though it might be "quite good", "cute" or even "not bad", I would say. (But then, who am I to say what's right? Prescriptive grammar was buried with Fowler , unless you're a Daily Telegraph reader .) It's quite interesting, something you can actually follow happening linguistically. It's a bit like "bad" (meaning "good"), which came from AAVE . It was gradually replaced by the (initially) stronger "wicked", which has since come to mean little more than "nice" now. Heigh ho.

...I quite like it. Or do I? Bit kind of Daily Mail, isn't it? *sighs*

...too bloody right they should. "Full cost" classes actually work out about £25 a week - that would be for several hours of teaching. Good value for employers, I'd say, but a bit stiff if you're an Hungarian strawberry picker on the minimum wage.

...sort of. I have an image of some old codger, in a few decades time, telling his great grandchildren he can remember when light bulbs were so inefficient, they'd burn you. It made me think about Byron the Bulb . Which has made me decide to buy a copy of Against The Day when I get paid this month.

the civic party , originally uploaded by /pɪgstaɪævnjuː/ . With some students the other day, to the opening of Refugee Week in Newcastle. Good job we'd taken them, because otherwise only the civic party would have been in attendance, more or less. There were some speeches about "integration" and "toleration " and la di da di, and then the speech makers gave a marvellous example of integrating as they got into their little huddle around the dinner table. They got served ahead of my students, most of whom live off £32 a week, and live off crap from Netto, so needed a decent nosh.

I found this whilst prepping a lesson on morning routines. Cheered me up on a grumpy morning.

This morning, for the first time, Molly asked for and properly used her potty. Any parent will appreciate the significance of this moment. Very few times in a lifetime is it given to a person to look on a turd with such satisfaction and delight.

From B3TA.com

, originally uploaded by Komrade P. . I like the way the guy on the left is motion blurred. And the fact that he's white, as against the cluster of men to the right, and it's all held together by the guy in the middle... OK, maybe it could've been a tad sharper... wtf?

miss hooley doll in good french red box shame , originally uploaded by /pɪgstaɪævnjuː/ .

Forgetfullness yesterday meant no kidneys for breakfast. Instead, Molly and I had weetabix with maple syrup. Neither of us enjoyed it. [just now I've realised that my little girl shares her diminutive name with Mrs Bloom] My favourite bit has always been the "brothel scene", though I've not read it for years. I've just skimmed through a few pages this evening. What drug was that, then? The interweaving of reality and hallucination is beautifully done, but it's not quite like any such experience one's personally able to compare. Maybe it was absinthe ? I've never been there. But I am here, kind of. I'd like to put it on record, that my copy of Ulysses has a stamp in it saying PROPERTY OF DILKO ENGLISH BAKIRKOY BRANCH, however, I removed it in furtherance of an industrial dispute. Like many schools of English, Bakirkoy Dilko's staffroom would have a shelf or two where EFL teachers (a profession notorious for their here-today-gone-tomorr...

A Pub near Piazza Navona , originally uploaded by fonsico . I like this photo 'cos it shows what can be done with a very long exposure (28 seconds), indoors, on f16. Food for thought. Wish I'd taken it. If you're arsed, here's a link to the exif data.

...you might get the fucker. Last summer was touch and go so far as water went. "Make it rain" was a phrase much on our minds . This year we've got an additional tank holding about 300 gallons, and lots more 75 gallon drums. It's been raining hard all week, and now every single receptacle in the allotment is overflowing. If the rain stops tonight and stays stopped until October, we should be ok.

The GATH is frequented by many's a cat. Here's one I caught today. I'm regarding him as an "enemy combatant", and making him subject to a punishing regime.

Thanks to Monaxle for tipping me off about this story . It just leaves me wondering, What will physically happen to the allotments over the next seven years? And what kind of condition will they get them back in?

...I think politicians call it. I'm not quite sure what the technical term is for stealing a watch from someone's wrist, but however you name it, somebody in this crowd will be the toast of Alabania's petty criminal world just now. Well done! The crucial moment comes between 50 seconds to 1 minute into the video, (that's with 3.07 left to run). Now you see it, now you don't. Blinder.

I followed the advice on PFAF , and gave them a few weeks in the bottom of the fridge, in the seed tray, wrapped in a carrier bag. I took them out a few weeks ago, and left them on a bench at the allotment... And this afternoon there's a seedling popping through. I think I'll plant these in the-garden-at-the-house, or "the g.a.t.h", as I propose to call that particular work-in-progress.

telephoning a glacier , originally uploaded by /pɪgstaɪævnjuː/ . I read about this in the Guardian on my way home from work the other day. You can hear the glacier crackling if you ring 07758225698 . The report says only one person at a time can get through, but I've got through straightaway several times now, so either that information's wrong or no one's arsed - which seems unlikely. Speaking of The Grauniad: it's in a rather self-congratulating mood this morning . Well, fair play, really: with it's manifold faults and occasional absurdities, it's the only proper newspaper left in the country. The Independent's always been a numpties rag, and the decline of The Times in the last 20-odd years has been shocking. Don't even get me started on The Telegraph or the tabloids. Doubtless it says something: a trust fund taking the decisions, rather than capitalist nut-jobs. This blog links to the old Grauniad a lot, doesn't it? Hmm. I'm ...

create your own visited country map

This article intrigued me, and it's been much on my mind. After a couple of hours double digging, I generally slake my thirst with a glass of cider on the back step, and contemplate the garden's potential. Germaine's right about the Chelsea flower show aesthetic, from what I've seen on telly. And gardens generally are twee affairs, with poxy annual borders, plants you buy in plugs from B&Q, the only point being their colourfulness. And it's all so two dimensional: stuff you look down on. Some opening ideas: it must be three dimensional; it must be an intriguing place for Molly to play in; each item in it must have a story attached; it should be attractive to wildlife. Cardoons and teasel will add height... This is a work-in-progress now. And it will remain so. That's the point.

These nice people asked to use one of my photos as a banner for the news bit of their website. Naturally, I was dead chuffed and said "yes". That was last year's pin board at the allotment. This year's, as you can see, is much better organised, but not as photogenic, perhaps. There's a lesson there, somewhere.

new car , originally uploaded by /pɪgstaɪævnjuː/ . Cars are her latest thing.

Well, it's not quite double digging, as defined by the BBC . I'm doing serious work on our garden-at-home, (as opposed to the allotment, aka simply "the garden" - it's confusing, I know, but round our way we refer to allotments as gardens; and the garden at home can appear as an afterthought). Anyhow, we moved to this house in February, and I've cleared a skipful of rubbish and am now getting the garden right. These houses were built in the 30s. We've heard that one family lived here for at least two generations, and you can tell from the state of the topsoil, the foundations of a small greenhouse, and the remains of a potting shed, that it was once well-gardened. Unfortunately, recent occupants have been skanks, whose approach to the garden was to let the weeds grow and have the fuckers strimmed if anyone complained about the jungle. This has left a thick crust of weeds on top of the excellent soil. Also, somehow, this crust has formed over a very ...

molly and me , originally uploaded by /pɪgstaɪævnjuː/ . The phone arrived. As you can see, Molly is reserving judgement, whilst I'm sold already.

More later.

... canadensis ? The email from the seed company says Pedicularis procera . The seed packet has gotten a soaking and the printing's now unclear. I had thought it was P. groenlandica... We won't know now until it grows. And there's the thing. I pricked out 45 seedlings today into modules, but the crack seems to be that these lads are parasitic, and therefore maybe they should be planted with grass...? Which goes against every gardening instinct. However....

Let me on! \ Let me off! , originally uploaded by BenGoode . I'm getting a new phone - it should arrive tomorrow. Really, it's more like a compact camera with a phone stuck on to it. The photographer who took this one has several more in his stream. Looks like it can do what I want, which is back into the dodgy territory of street photography. Well, I say "street", I mean "pub" really.