Among the trees I have lain and passed my golden days
Among the trees I have spent my summers in a haze
Of lazy afternoons, watching all the rain, as it patterns the
verandah, then disappears again.....Come the sun
Some days start a bit weirder than others, I guess.
Being a teacher I am used to laying awake at about three o'clock in the morning whilst a gang of skeletons are making hey in the wardrobe no doubt looking for a tin opener for the Watney's Party 7 that continues to be passed around from party to party and no doubt will be for the rest of eternity. This morning, however, it was between the hours of four and five-thirty that I lay awake and wondered, not for the first time, where it all went so wrong. All those dreams of youth et al, ad nauseum . . . However, after getting a few more hours of fitful sleep, I finally woke up to a nice hot cup of tea that Mrs Dave thoughtfully brought me. After a few articles from Stuart Maconie's new book (Never Mind the Quantocks), I decided to get up and have a bath.
So there I was, lying on the bathroom floor completing my "reps" - exercise jargon for the amount of times you have to do something painful in the optimistic belief that it's doing you some good. Having already completed a series of standing-on-my-left-foot-only-and-bending-my-knee-and-holding-for 10 seconds (10 reps), I was now lying on the bathroom floor at a jaunty 45°angle with the bath filling up with hot water and Epsom Salts. I had a tight rubberised band around my knees and was attempting to lift my knees whilst keeping my ankles together. Idly interested parties may assume that my Physiotherapist may have a wicked sense of humour. Whilst trying to hold this pose for the aforesaid ten reps, from the bathroom stereo* the mournful sound of Eric Clapton singing, "Dear Lord, give me the strength to carry on". This is the usual absurdity of everyday life. You can't make this stuff up.
bête noire, my broken left foot. In fact yesterday I went out for a brief walk in some woods up around Martlesham. It was an opportunity to get out in the fresh air, which is something that a few youngsters need to do according to a recent radio report. Look at the cover of this bok I saw recently in Waterstones - Nature Defecit Disorder!! Whatever next? Anyway, it was also an opportunity to mess about with a new camera app on my iPhone. Now, I have never been much of a photographer and only use cameras to keep a record of where I've been or anything that takes my fancy. Usually unusual trees. I leave all the clever and arty stuff to real photographers like Mike Chisholm - a man who knows all about lenses and apertures and such-like.
During the week I had heard rumblings and grumblings about Instagram but had been too tired or disinterested until yesterday to find out why this useful little app was being discussed on Radio 4 and taking up newspaper space. Instagram is a phone app that allows you to apply various filters to your snaps (that's what they are). See the previous post for an example. They are just a bit of fun for snappers. I've used Instagram for most of the last year - not that I take many photos, though. I was certainly surprised - like most people seem to be - that MyFace had paid the ridiculous sum of a billion dollars for a small app that is free to download and use. The creators had never, up until now, made any money from it - they must be laughing all the way to the bank. A few years developing a bit of software in a completely altruistic way has allowed them to join that ever-growing club of young slacker millionaires. Good for them, I say, but I can't for the life of me work out how money will be made from it. Surely they can't start charging for it?
Despite having walked in this wood often over the last twenty-odd years, I still managed to get a bit disoriented so out came the old iPhone as I wasn't carrying an old fashioned compass. Switch on the compass app and voilà there we are - head West and back to the car, dodging the hailstones. I must write about how useful the iPhone has become. Despite my usual fustian, technophobe approach to modernity, it's fast becoming one of the most important pieces of everyday kit. This is all despite the fact the I hardly ever get calls on it - it seems to be everything but a phone. Unfortunately, not a hat.
Still, more about such things another time.