ramblin’ – Page 14 – EXCUSES AND HALF TRUTHS

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 16

We are In The North, well and truly over the border into Danelaw. Warkworth, a pretty village with an imposing castle up on the hill. From here, the fishing port of Amble is an—amble along the coast walk. Northumberland is a happy place for us, a point of peace and joy where we can rediscover ourselves, reenergise and reset for the coming summer. Much fish will be eaten. Much ale will be drunk. Time to get salty air in our lungs and the soft light of the north-east in our souls.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 15

A brief schedule update before we start. TLC and I will be away next week, so there’s a possibility Chapter 16 may be delayed, running short, or both. The fact we will be in the wilds and away from people during the week of Royalist Foolishness is entirely coincidental. Enjoy your bunting and coronation chicken samosas if you choose to celebrate. We’ll be up a hill somewhere, plotting the inevitable demise of the parasitic monarchy.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 14

The blossoms are finally on the apple and cherry trees at the bottom end of the garden, and the acers are unfurling their fractal leaves in shades of cream and crimson. We are making plans for the copse end of the grounds, which goes through periods of focus and neglect. It’ll never be done, but then that’s the joy and pain of a garden. Change is the only constant.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 13

We spent Easter in and out of garden centres, planting up our purchases, digging and tidying and clearing. Under clean blue skies dotted with swooping red kites, serenaded by the occasional sparrow, it felt good to be out in the sunshine. Of course, exercise has a cost, and we paid for it on Easter Monday, muscles groaning and bones twanging, our bodies singing a song with the refrain ‘you overdid it, you silly old sods.’

And the busy time in the garden is only just starting. Oh well. It’s more fun than going to the gym.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 12

Easter? EASTER? What is this foolishness? At what point did I doze off on the sofa for five minutes to wake and find the year is a quarter over and we’re into Eggmas?

Obviously, the very nature of a weekly newsletter is to track the seasons—it’s a good way to mine the information catacombs for content. Keep it a bit topical, make it look less like you’ve just instructed GPT-4 to scrape up some links and toss in a bit of context ‘in the style of.’

Incidentally, tried that. Did not work. You’re stuck with the real-life second-rate version of Rob while the engineers try to spin up a less prone-to-surrealist-outbursts host.

This week—nothing about eggs, rabbits, Palestinian freedom fighters from two thousand some years ago or murderous woodworking. We’ll save all that for Whitsun.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 11

This week: short things, fake bands and two things which end up buried. Must crack on, busy weekend, got a lady to spoil.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 10

There’s a vicious scrape on the back of my right hand. We bought a new aluminium growhouse for seeds and seedlings, which arrived last week. It’s very smart but of course, I have to put it together. Big boy Meccano. Fiddly but fun. Less so when you run the sharp edge of one of the struts across your paw while getting it out of its box. Not the best of starts.

Still, the gouge is healing nicely—recovery would be quicker if it wasn’t in a place where I can’t help but fiddle with it. And the growhouse is only half built. It’ll be worth it in the end. The best projects need a small injection of work, swearing and a smear of blood-sacrifice to the gods of construction.

Also, I look double-hard now.

In this chapter—ruminations on snacks and leftovers and more than the usual amount of whinging about getting old.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 9

I am the worst haggler in the world. The traders in the Moroccan souks would have a field day with me. A lamb amongst lions. So when I was forced by the threat of a big rate hike to call my broadband supplier and negotiate a better deal, panic was my default setting. Hate phones. Hate haggling. What could go right?

People, with the upcoming bill-bump coming in April, now is the time to give your supplier a ring. If Virgin were anything to go by, they want you to call. Hell, while I was on hold they were already offering discounts. Twenty minutes of idle chat and no pressure cut my bills by 25% for the year. I’d feel proud if I didn’t honestly believe I had nothing to do with it but pick up the phone.

There’s probably a lesson here about embracing your fear and doing it anyway, but it would be crass and trite of me to do anything so obvious. I’ll take the smug points for making a positive contribution to the household budget, though.

This week: tots! Getting your tweak off! And let’s all enjoy the life and times of Big Larry.

Featured image via Dominic Wade.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 8

There’s something about this time of year which makes you want to just—get past it. If the only events to look forward to are Valentine’s Day and an excuse to have pancakes for tea, we could be excused for hibernating until National Peanut Butter Lover’s Day*. But there are quiet pleasures to be had. We planted a load of bulbs in our front border in the autumn, and now they’re poking their questing noses above ground sniffing for fresh air. Days are slowly lengthening, there are buds on the trees. I bought a few packets of seeds at the weekend for early planting. Cucumbers, radishes, might even see about some tomatoes. I can feel the motor of the world starting to run again.

In this chapter, which promises to be much less angry than last week—the crossroads, the dance, and the house which is a computer. Oh, and tea, because there’s always time for tea.

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.

Featured image is part of the collection of concept art for Disney’s Robin Hood, by Ken Anderson. More here.

* 1st March.

The Swipe Volume 1 Chapter 7

I had an invite this week to a potential college reunion, which has led to all sorts of conflicted ruminations. There are some friends from the course I’d like to see again, and others who I’ve unwittingly collaborated with professionally. The strangest thing is, folks are popping up on the inevitable WhatsApp group whose names and faces I honestly don’t recognise. That’s what 35 years will do for you, I guess. Images of Gross Pointe Blank are swimming around my head. Can you—should you—ever go back?

Food for thought while we consider the business of the day. In this chapter: Bond! Miyazaki! Buzz Aldrin! And an Outro which may (at the time of writing) not feature a major musical figure who’s died!

Wherever you are, whenever you are, however you are, welcome to The Swipe.