cat pillar

Ralph found this guy outside our front door so I whipped it up into a jar like the mean woman I am. Only until I could take a photo you understand. The photo doesn't show his exciting blue tail horn. He was only pretending to be dead but it's nice for him to show us his belly and armsies, look, holding onto a bit of soil. It was hard to find out what he is but I think he's a lime hawk moth, mimas tiliae. I put him back in the garden and although we have no lime tree he might be happy eating my tiny oak. I'm hoping though as his colour is quite grey he'll be heading off to pupate before he is too much of a chuggy.

This is what he should turn into...

Whilst I was out with my camera, here is a photo of one of the frogs that live in our barrel, it's gotten really big. Or it's a different one.

window shopping

With a week away from the computer I had a nice trawl around once I got home, it's pretty sad, I do appreciate that.

I found some tempting bits and pieces.

Here in the sale at topshop, some shoes I saw before but caught my eye again now I'm thinking of winter clothes. hadley and maurice.

These corduroy leggings are in new look, I tried them on today. I thought they would be great but no, they are funny, wrinkly all over really, as soon as you stop pulling them up. Oh.

I'd like to be able to wear these from river island but I probably wont. River island seems to have pretty snazzy stuff these days.

I'm trying to work these out...

I quite like these too, from new look...

mushroom for nails

I might have now found the nail varnish.

It's new from barry m, mushroom. I like the barry m even if it is a bit teeny, the nail stuff seems pretty good and actually lasts a decent amount of time.

Ralph, a man, was initially sceptical of my brown nails but after a day he looked at my hands and, unprompted, said "actually, your mushroom nails look nice".

t o a s t

It seems the guardian fashion statement email blog beat me to talking about toast. I was on holiday.

Before I went away I did my half yearly toast sale shop. I wrote before how I didn't like much of the summer stuff. There was a dress in the archive sale that I didn't recognise as having seen before but I was too slow.

I did get a chambray tunic, I have been looking for one for a while so I don't know why I was surprised to find one at toast, I think I just blocked out the summer catalogue. It is very nice, I'm angling to wear it every day. It's really wide but it suits it. I was a bit torn when it first arrived as the little tab at the bottom of the buttons has been repositioned and you can see the stitch marks where it had been, how dare they send me a faulty good. Actually though this is a good thing, it shows that actually mistakes can be rectified and that someone took the time to unpick and restitch. Something wasn't wasted. I wear it with one side of the collar turned in as straight high necklines without collars look a bit funny on me.

Also, I got the blue/black/white stripe espadrilles and the yellow suede babouche slippers. The slippers look a little like they are made from a chamois leather but I like them none the less. They did definitely look a brighter yellow in the photo.

New toast catalogue was waiting for me when I got home from holiday. I'm more inclined towards winter clothes so much happier with this. The styling in this catalogue is much more nicer than summer and there is one lady in particular in there who is so lovely I'm going to be practising my hair and makeup, like a teenager, just to try and look like her. I looked through again today and I'm not sure that there is too much I'd like to get yet but there may be more to come. There are a few bits though...

particularly like the batwing on the sweater, although I've been out of the habit of wearing jumpers. The cardigan is long. The grey tunic is corduroy and the printed one is wool. I like the print and the cuff detail on the dark shirt. The blue print one, I can't quite decide, the colour is beautiful as is the shape but the print from a distance is a little bit mumsy. I would really like these shoes, maybe I could grow up and they could replace my red patent ones with a bow as they are pretty much the same shape, just womanly.

There are also several harem trousers and churidar but I'm not sure about them. They are either black or fabric I'm not keen on, I have an aversion to viscose that I can't properly explain, it seems unearthly maybe?

Fingers crossed for more great stuff to come as there is a mostly fantastic colour pallet this time, a little edgy and off in a good way, more so in the knits. I do like the green 3 layer scarf a lot.

Also, the exciting glimps that there is going to be man toast. I'm looking forward to this, I think of ralph as a toast man. It could go either way and be absolutely great or rather bad. If it's good I hope that ralph will never need another clothing supplier ever. And I can look through the catalogue at the lovely photos of men in the wilderness carrying logs.

holiday

I have had my holiday. I went with ralph for a week to visit him on his residency in ramsgate, cool.

I rode my bike around after not having ridden for more than a year I think. After a day feeling really rubbish ralph did a bit of riding behind me and spotted that my back wheel had a proper wobble and was rubbing on a bit of the bike. That was what the goose noise was then. I just assumed I was having a hard time because I was crap and the brakes were a little wonky. A lovely man in a local bike shop straightened up my wheel for me and everything was much easier. After that I was like some kind of lightening flash. I only had a couple of instances of needing to stop from exploding lungs.

We were staying in a place called quex park and cycling about and into ramsgate where ralphs residency is. It's about 40 mins to cycle from one to the other, on quite quick countryside roads that's a fair way. At quex park there are lots of animals all over the place.

Whilst I was there we had to move from the field ralph had been camping in because we were right on the path for the murder mystery tour. We found a nice hidden spot in the woods and gently cleared the big sticks and nettles and set up the tent. Alas, a phone call later, we find that this spot is now on the spot where they are hacking a path for the actors to run between the action. It was ok, they went around the tent. When we got back we found our lovely hidden campsite is now as if there has been a path established there for years and we look like wallies for putting our tent so close to a path. Honestly, there was not even a hint of being able to walk through there before, they cut drown trees and scraped the moss off the woodland floor. A little barbaric I thought seeing as we had been so careful not to break anything. Ralph put up a rope to stop thespians walking into the tent. Again, there was no path there that morning.

They were just doing the rehearsal on our last night so we didn't have to suffer too much murder. It was quite fun, odd, but fun to watch them going around practising, and over quite quickly. I guess we were the strange ones huddled under the trees in the rain, listening to radio 4 on a wind up radio, cooking cous cous and chorizo on a camping stove, right next to a path. Oh well. The director, I think, was a little rude, saying about how he guessed it was ok to work around us, how he'd just check the tent wasn't in the way of the actors, flashing the torch at us to check it was our lantern. I hope that bit of wood manages to get back to normal and the path is lost.

Whilst in ramsgate I walked around and really liked going to the seafront. The beach there is very nice with some good bits of sand and others with rock pools and lots of exciting seaweed. I didn't see too many creatures, some shrimps and a tiny crab. I really like the big cliffs and particularly this part where the chalk meets what I think might be a man made concrete cliff cunningly disguised by the inclusion of pockets for planting. Only about 5 different plants as far as I found but still good, I collected some seeds. I also found a waitrose.

Look, some sacred geometry! This, from the ground, is an interesting seaside garden with a little board explaining the plants and why they are good to grow here. From the cliff top it is a nonsence.

Here is some slightly more authentic geometry, more attractive I think...

I took this whilst sitting on the beach, on one of the concrete bits that goes out to sea, the sand was wet. I was doing my nails and I had found the brick pebble. Not posed but I like the picture, shows how I am both a glamorous lady and an outdoorsy pickerupper. This is when I met buster, a dog who had loads of fun ignoring his owners, they complained that he just made them look like idiots.

Ralph and I went on a great outing to visit the mudflats, the cycle was a bit hairy as drivers in kent seem not to have encountered bikes before, particularly the huge heavy works lorry that pretty much touched my handlebars. If only I hadn't been concentrating on not dying I could have noted the company and reported him for dangerous driving. I hope one day soon he realises that having the death of a person on his concious is not worth those few extra seconds he gained. In fact I wish the hand of god could come down and point that out to all drivers, (big booming voice here...) 'you can very easily kill a cyclist by your impatient, un-thought through passing, are you unable to visualise the consequences of your actions and see that you are deeply dangerous and do not deserve your humanity'. After this we took to a cycle path along the inner edge of the mudflats, through swathes of fennel. All the paths into the flats weren't bike friendly so we kept going, we were also looking for breakfast. Eventually we arrived in sandwich. It's pretty strange in sandwich, all roads lead back there, it was hard to get out again. We went off to see the roman fort but because english heritage charge £4.50 each we didn't go in and started off down a strange little track with a sign to river boats. We are still learning to use the ordnance survey properly, there looked like was a path that we could take to eventually take us back to the mud flats. We went across a level crossing. Terrifying.

Following this tack we took the saxon shore way.

The saxon shore way is for walking not cycling, but it was ok. Fields. We went through some with cows, at one point the water trough was right on the path and there was a awkward moment when we had to ask the cows to move. They really stare and are quite big.

The more fields we went through, the more we started to head in the wrong direction, we had expected a bridge. The fields got a bit more rugged.

We passed under a railway and saw a man in a boat, it started to rain and ralph asked him if there was a bridge soon, he said yes. When the rain stopped we looked it up on the map and it was about the same distance ahead as we had come. Onward. It got even more rugged.

 Looking out across on our side of the river there was nothing to see as far as the eye could. How strange.

We came to a strange looked after stretch with mown lawn and boat moorings, in behind was a neat garden with only the wild plants we'd been passing but neat mown paths through.

The map didn't say what this was, no house or anything as far as we could see. This was when the actor called about the path by our tent.

After this there was sheep and then it got all overgrown

Eventually we got to plucks gutter, which was where the boat man had said about, there was a pub. The pub was just about the nastiest, done up in the late 80's for the static caravan oldie crowd, pub I've seen. Whilst we were there there was a coach trip of horrible old folk listening to a tanned crooner with a backing track cd. This was about 4 in the afternoon in the middle of nowhere. Still, we had a coffee and a cider and a sit down before the cycle home.

Next day we found out from sarah at the residency that there was no bridges because there are no roads because this area was the wide expanse of water that separated the isle of thanet from the rest of kent. Wantsum.

This is our route, I think from next to the castle which looks to be the roman fort to the road at where it says east stourmouth. I think it's 7 miles.

I'm home now and I miss the good fish and chips you can get from ossie's.

cultured

Firstly, here is our kombucha. Its a kind of bacteria yeasty thing that lives in tea and makes you a drink to make you better. Ralph's friend sophie sent it to us from japan and we have been looking after it. I tried it last night and I think it could have stayed for longer as it's still quite sweet, it's very nice and have started a new batch. The mother kombucha has made a baby kombucha and soon when we have more we can follow the tradition and send them off to people. Unsuspecting people, like an odd stinky chain letter.


Secondly, a while back we went to see some talks at the south bank as part of the literary festival. Jeanette winterson and slavov zizek. I really have left it far to long to accurately comment on the talks so forgive any broad statements I may make. Rubbish, defeats the point really.

Here is a photo of the mostly numpties that are the audience at the zizek talk. It became apparent very quickly that the people around us had come along to hear some quirky guy talk, who they'd heard was good. There was tittering the whole way through, every time he said a crude word or used flippant comments to emphasise points. Little laughs and chuckles to your party. It's so frustrating when people seem incapable of grasping the serious nature of a point made in this way. Afterwards ralph and I had a lengthy discussion about this and I think the conclusion we came to was a scenario similar to the way that art is both engaged with and embarked upon. A kind of barrier is set up so that the laugh at the comment can stand in for a consideration of that point. Afterwards the feel of the talk could be described to all ones friends and we can all say what a great speaker the man is. People were singing along and swaying in time with the sound of music clips he showed, maybe they were singing along in order to fully appreciate each word that was said. I think that the laughter also masks a desire to not have to try to fully take on board ideas that could warrant some kind of opinion or thought.

So here is the talk, I went off to find it and it's on the literary festival site.



In searching about I came to this, what seems to be a blog solely devoted to not really talking about anything, just acknowledging that some things exist, and that we are really cleaver to know that they are there. Oh you know it's there too? Oh great, isn't it great? It's quite a long piece on the zizek talk but with all those words it manages to say nothing apart from "the sound of music".


loserville slavoj-zizek-trendy-wendy-or-das-real-ding

You can also read about some people going to get their hair done in bethnal green and some signs found in the exotic countryside.

In this picture zizek is demonstrating what to do to the person sitting next to you who is singing 'the hills are alive'. Ha ha ha, I made a joke!

Ok, back to being serious, jeanette winterson.

Mostly the audience was women, seeming either 'women of a certain age', or women in their early 20s. They were, going on the questions asked, mostly what I would describe as being "total wetsies". I believe I coined this phrase on the trot out of the hall after an uncomfortable wait for anyone with any real ideas to ask a proper question. I know I didn't as I haven't read most of her work, I've heard her talking on the radio and found her to be insightful (and we were totally on a culture stint that week). But, although I had some thoughts and disagreements with some of what she said, they were not really issues to question her on, mostly a differing veiwpoint I'm happy to hold. But people just talked rubbish, how can one find time in this challenging multi media world to set aside a few minutes to write, I mean I try to but I'm so busy? I cried a little when you described sitting on the library steps. Do you love your mum? A guy, and then I think his friend next to him, tried to ask about the theoretical interpretations that can arise from considering her writing from a queer perspective. He was really serious, I think an academic or someone studying, and she really just dismissed his question out of hand. Her argument was, I think, that any king of theorising about literature was harmful or at least pointless as people just write what they write and they are good stories. But she was really forceful about this and even when the second guy tried to ask again about this, very thoughtfully, she didn't engage with his point, and really put he foot down on him.

I didn't like her talk. I found it to be too knowing and smug. I had heard little soundbites, taken exactly, in an interview on the radio that week, and I felt a bit cheated to be hearing them again, in the talk we had paid to go to. I do not agree with her view that art is, but shouldn't be elitist, that things should be nicely given to the public. I found her view of the arts to be limited, as you expect to hear in popular culture "literature, poetry, music, theatre, painting". It's almost cringe worthy when someone states "painting" and I think it really does endorse the narrow view of, I don't even know what to call it, visual arts doesn't seem to really cut it either, art. I was disappointed. I thought she was sexist towards men and very self congratulatory with her audience of cooing, pseudo-serious women who she had helped to a feeling of empowerment. Again it seems people can't manage by themselves.

I really did enjoy reading sexing the cherry, I do not read much at all so I'm not well versed at talking about literature. I might sound very simplistic here whilst I work out my thoughts. I liked the historical-fantastical, how the impossible was taken as given. I liked the way time seemed to be isolated moments (in my mind I have a star map). Hmmm, I'm trying to remember now why I found it so interesting. I think maybe it has the same hue as the last gormenghast book. I might have to come back to this. Anyway, I have to say the oranges are not the only fruit does not really appeal to me.