It’s gone windy outside. I mean at the moment, while I’m writing; not that it was windy earlier and now it’s passed. Damn windy it is. Anyway that’s the weather.
Anna and I are currently indulging the final pieces of administration for The Meifod Claw, and as admin is the world’s least favourite hobby we thought we’d take our time getting through it. I would like to point an accusatory finger towards ebook readers for this but I don’t want to enrage/provoke sympathy (delete where you consider reasonable).
We’re trying to work on a self cleansing ebook that you can leave on the toilet. The technology centre thinks it might even been able to have the device turn up at the corners during its stay on the cistern, just like the real thing.
I don’t know about any of it if I’m honest, and I stand by myself in the corner, still of the opinion that watching someone read an ebook makes it look like ninety percent brail.
If you’re looking for more hedgehog news… well it’s not quite ready, but I’m off to get it straight from the tall man’s mouth in a little bit. Unless they’ve been released, which I’m beginning to doubt that they ever will be; either that or they’re enjoying the shredded newspaper too much to climb out and be on their way. I’m sure it’ll all turn out to be above board though. Lets all agree on that.
Over on the jukebox things are taking another turn for spring. Neil Young is now left to gather dust like he likes it, over in the silent corner with Nick Drake. Nick doesn’t like to come out much anyway, not if there’s a crowd of rock CD’s around the amp. I wonder if he’s got around to making that album with John Martyn in heaven? Or do they have to wait for Danny Thompson? There’s so little you can know in life, that’s why I just reach for the Acid Jazz CD’s instead. No idea why.
Tomorrow I’ll be recording a couple of artists for a future episode of Cave Mind. After they’ve waxed, and before the conversation wanes, I’m thinking that as a little treat I’ll have them review and rebuke some seventies vinyl covers. Perhaps don’t tune in for that if you’re a fan of Camel. Or the arts; we’ll see…
Before I go, and while we’re thinking about treats, I’ll leave you with this thought that was passed on to me by an uncle many moons back.
The yard is greater than the metre in all regards but length. Feel free to get back to me on that one, and feel freer to be brief about it. Only kidding, you can pretend that it’s a text. Do spell it properly though, and use real grammar from the real world. I have to ask that.
The fact of the matter, the lamb’s getting fatter…
JW Bowe xx
PS!
I asked my hedgehog guy about the Tic Tac’s… I’ll keep trying. In the meantime Anna urges me to say that you probably shouldn’t go trying to find out for yourself.
Back when graft was Graft labourers would often turn to iron. It wasn’t spontaneous but when it came on it was quick. That chap has been trying to swing that hammer since the mid 1850’s. He ain’t ever giving in. I don’t know why the other one turned. It must have been out of sympathy because he didn’t seem to be working very hard.
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