In a break from tradition that will doubtless infuriate certain people (hi, Jesse), this week we give you … Friday Pier Blogging!
That there is South Parade Pier, a fine example of a twice-rebuilt Victorian-era English seafront pier and no mistake, guv’nor. Probably most famous (outside of the local area) for being the very same pier that burnt down during the filming of The Who’s rock opera movie, ‘Tommy’.
You get that picture for two reasons. First and foremost, I went out on my bike yesterday during my afternoon off and was astonished to find it was still warm enough to be out cycling in shorts and a thin shirt despite it being midway through October – plus it looked all pretty in the sunlight, without the usual horde of lobster-tanned tourists that surround it in the holiday season.
Secondly, there’s been little excitement in the plant department recently – no new acquisitions, and little growth due to the encroaching autumn. So I’ll have to find other things starting with ‘p’ to take pistures of for a little while, at least until the Christmas Cacti go into flower (if they do so this year). Suggestions for ‘p’-word things for me to show-and-tell more than welcome – we aim to please. 🙂
It’s not been the most exciting of weeks, to tell the truth. No new books or magazines to report as the new Vector hasn’t yet arrived, thanks to the vaguaries of the local postal service – two miles from a major sorting office, and I still get things days late. Then again, the Royal Mail are on their yearly seasonal temp recruitment drive, which means that the library is flooded with people trying to apply for delivery jobs online. Some of whom (I kid you not) cannot read or write, and have only come down to apply so that they can tell their benefits advisors that they are ‘actively looking for work’. (If that sounds a little harsh, well, tough. It’s been one of those days.)The only major event of the week was probably Bruce Sterling emailing me to thank me for the tip-off on the ‘warning signs for the future’ that I found via George Dvorsky. Because, after all, it’s not every day that a world famous author and visionary drops you an email to say thanks. So, you’ll forgive me for wearing my chufty badge* this evening, I hope.Other than that, it’s been the usual grind of working, blogging, and of course working on my story. While thinking about my progress so far at work today, I came to the conclusion that the opening is a bit slow (needs more conflict, more quickly), but I’m going to leave any alterations until I’ve actually got all the way through the first draft. There’ll be no work on it tonight, of course, because it’s curry-and-pub night. I’ve had a hard week at work, and I’ve earned it. I hope you lot are all having a relaxing evening in whatever way you prefer, too.
To send you off on your weekend, here’s another bit of random sloganeering that I found down at the seafront:
Not sure if I agree with the sentiment, but there you go. Thanks for dropping by!
* “wearing your chufty badge”: regional slang term for ‘looking obviously pleased with oneself’, for instance the obvious grinning-for-no-reason look that couples get in the early weeks of a relationship. The phrase can be actualised by actually making a chufty badge, as follows: get a crimp-top from a drinks bottle, and hold to the outside of your shirt; then get a two pence piece, pass it behind the shirt, and press into the bottle-top, trapping the fabric of the shirt in between the two. Presto! Chufty badge.