where art collides

Yesterday was St David’s day. It has no real significance outside of Wales other than, as a Welshman, I know it is synonymous with daffodils. This year has been different because of the dearth of these yellow blooms on view.

I’m not saying that everyone in Lincoln goes around wearing ‘daffs’ on March 1st but they have usually hit the hedgerows by now. As of today they have yet to flower.

An observation would be that they are late due to an unusually hard winter. One more akin to the way winters used to be. However one might ask why they have traditionally been worn on March 1st if winters of old were harsh and daffodils late flowering.

I don’t have the answer and am not really inclined to dig deeper.

Just watching the bowls on the telly before the Wales v Australia rugby match and note that the tournament is sponsored by Cooperative Funeralcare. Brilliantly blatant.

It’s basically telling its Saga membership viewers that they think there is a good probability that they are about to pop their corks quite soon and they’d like their cash thank you very much.

Do I book that holiday in Eastbourne or keep the cash for the funeral instead? Pass the gin Dora!

What do you do when yours is a lone voice in the wilderness?  When the rest of the family is in the other room watching the TV. When the kitchen seems a lonely place!

It’s a bit of an oasis, the kitchen. The desert is the hall and the room with the TV. I hesitate to call it the TV room. That would be surrender.  A cop out.  An acceptance that we have in the house an altar dedicated to mammon!

The noise of the fridge seems a lot more real than the distant sound of artificial applause on the TV.  In it everything is cool, unlike on the TV.

The house is noisy. I never hear the traffic on the road outside. Anne does but I don’t, and it is nothing to do with advancing age. Out the back I see the effect of the wind, blowing the leaves off the trees, and the noise of the rain falling on the conservatory roof. Loud but acceptable.

Not as intrusive as the TV.

With each additional child the noise levels in the house doubles. Now at 4 kids the noise has reached a certain high level of intensity.

The noise has died down. They must be watching a documentary! They are all in there watching the tv!

This clocks going back business is all very well but the artificial lie-in is just that. You lie in bed in the dark having woken up at your normal time, which is of course now an hour earlier than your normal time.

I can’t really drop back off to sleep so I lie there, wondering whether Anne is awake. I want to do something. Read a book or turn on the wireless set maybe. She gets annoyed if I talk to her because she believes that the extra hour is a real boon and should be taken advantage of. I don’t know if she is asleep or not.

There is a god-like element to the clocks being turned back. It feels as if we are controlling time. Life is a big illusion.

It’s beautiful sitting here in the car by the lake. There are five kayaks on the water, including Joe’s. It’s peaceful even though you can hear the traffic on the bypass.

The traffic is mostly hidden by the trees and bushes surrounding the lake. These are magnificently colourful at this time of year. It’s almost as if they were planted with autumn in mind.

It’s quite calming watching Joe. The pace of the kayak contrasts with that of the cars on the road. The two modes of transport represent different ages.

This also feels like a reflection of my week. Weekdays are a blur and the weekends need to provide a relaxing contrast. Unfortunately weekends also seem to go by in a blur.

The temperature is very pleasant. Even though it is warm I will light the fire this evening. The typical scenario is me sitting by the fire on my own reading or on the laptop whilst the others sit in front of the TV in another room. Yet another contrast.

We often hanker after the good old days. What we actually want are the benefits of modern society without the downsides.