‘Tis the season

1 lg display 2 fikkisimo 3 almira sadar 3 AuAgmetalcraft 4 aride desk lamp 5 Chandelier-5-Petit-LuXiole

No, not Christmas. I wouldn’t mention that to you in August, I wouldn’t be that cruel. Besides, AlaraApothecary: we worship God, not mammon 🙂 No, it’s the season for the interior design shows in London, and for the first time in aeons, I might not attend due to work pressures. Quelle horreur! Is Decorex even Decorex if I am not in attendance? Answers on a postage stamp please. I will be covering the most interesting new designs/designers though, so you won’t have to miss out altogether. I love the crazy onion lamp in particular. AlaraApothecary: we plough through design detritus so you don’t have to.

My only consolation is that I have finally started designing again; I’m even painting in my sleep which is as cool as it sounds. My dream paintings are better and easier to paint than my reality ones, sob. I’ve also been hanging with a particularly amazing group of people so I’m as happy as a sandboy. If only they would iron out some itsy-bitsy little quirks…… All I will say at the moment Notorious.M, is that no matter what you have been left to believe by the other crazy people, treating your domestic pharmaceuticals as though your bathroom cabinet is a lab is NOT normal. And don’t even start me off about the Romanian mouse incident! Ye gods and little fishes, I’m speed-dialling PETA. And before you think you’re getting off lightly Kathy, chlorine is not a scent. Lay off the bleach and bake lots more Brownies – these are simple rules, you should have no trouble remembering them. Brownies, divine; Bleach, not so wooftastic, as Lise would say. Have a fab and groovy week, y’all.

(Photos: Lights by LG display; Fikkisimo concrete furniture; Almira Sadar pouffes: AuAgmetal teapot; Aride lamp desk; Petit-Luxiole chandelier)

Save

/by

O give me a home

1  3 2 54

Andrea's Kitchen

7 8

I’m sorry I dropped out of circulation for a while there. I was moving home: yes, that nice, restful exercise. Just the thing to bring my stress levels down. I returned from Jersey on a Thursday and had to find a new home, arrange movers and packers, and move by the next week’s Saturday. Intense? You bet!

Eventually I entered a sort of Zen-zone. The wardrobes don’t fit up the stairs in the new house? No problemo, give them to the movers and put your 40 million items of clothing on the bed in the spare room. I currently do not possess a fridge, freezer or washing machine and I’m too busy to even worry about it. I’m all set to cope with the apocalypse, for reals. Exaggerate? Moi? I wish! Scientists, kindly pull your fingers out and sort out teleportation already. You guys and gals are champion slackers 🙂

These are the pictures from my new home. Just kidding! Still, I am very happy with the house, and I’ve put in these images to brighten up your day. Have a terrific day.

Save

/by

The sublime to the ridiculous

aa1

Back in sunny London – hurrah and huzzah! I have had a million things to sort out, hence my absence from the blogosphere, but I’m Baaaack. I am appalled at the way people have been taking liberties while I’ve been distracted. Rich people have been indulging their usual taste-deficient ways, they really need to be stopped. From Mr Green’s taste-free mega-yacht to art auctions, the world is going to hell in a handbasket. Exhibit A- the bed in the above pictiure. For the girl ( I hope!) whose parents have everything but taste. Exhibit B- The Jeff Koons sculpture. Now, I have my issues with some modern art but I like these sculptures, they make me smile. However, less funny or perhaps even funnier, depending on how you look at it, is that the above sculpture recently sold for $59 million. I am constantly amazed by what people would rather have than cash. 59,000,000 smackeroos. You need to imagine paying for it in $20 bills and you see how insane it is. You hand over a container-load of $20 bills and then leave with that sculpture under your arm. It’s the best Dadaist joke that never was. When you imagine how many clinics you could build in the developing world for that money, or how many children you could educate, it doesn’t seem all that funny after all. God shows what He thinks of money through the people He chooses to give it to (says the penniless, bitter entrepeneur 🙂 )

Here on the other hand are some beautiful items made by talented designers, all exhibited in the most recent design shows.

a4a5a3

I was having a whinge-fest about places I’ve lived in with some friends. One is a newly-arrived expat from Kenya. She’s refusing to believe winter will arrive, having seen what passes for summer in England. Total denial. ( Don’t even start me off about Egypt 🙂 Sorry, couldn’t resist). Anyway, it reminded me of one of my favourite poems. Dear angry Orcadians, please don’t write in. I’m sure the Orkneys is now chock-a-block with pulled pork and avocados and 64 genders, just like the rest of the world. More fool you! Y’all have a lovely week now.

Bloody Orkney (Captain Hamish Blair)

This bloody town’s a bloody cuss
No bloody trains, no bloody bus,
And no one cares for bloody us
In bloody Orkney.

The bloody roads are bloody bad,
The bloody folks are bloody mad,
They’d make the brightest bloody sad,
In bloody Orkney.

All bloody clouds, and bloody rains,
No bloody kerbs, no bloody drains,
The Council’s got no bloody brains,
In bloody Orkney.

Everything’s so bloody dear,
A bloody bob, for bloody beer,
And is it good? – no bloody fear,
In bloody Orkney.

The bloody ‘flicks’ are bloody old,
The bloody seats are bloody cold,
You can’t get in for bloody gold
In bloody Orkney.

The bloody dances make you smile,
The bloody band is bloody vile,
It only cramps your bloody style,
In bloody Orkney.

No bloody sport, no bloody games,
No bloody fun, the bloody dames
Won’t even give their bloody names
In bloody Orkney.

Best bloody place is bloody bed,
With bloody ice on bloody head,
You might as well be bloody dead,
In bloody Orkney

 

 

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

/by

Samuel Johnson? Pah!

index index2 index3 index4

 

imagesindex

So here I am in Jersey once again – for the last time. Yippee! Now, you may be wondering what poor Jersey has done to deserve this, seeing that loads of people come here on holiday and have a lovely time. Dear Jersey, it’s not you, it’s me.

When you speak with someone who travels abroad a lot for their work, it always sounds so glamorous and fun but they seem so blasé  about it. Trust me, it’s because it’s a pain in the patoot. To begin with, I spent 2 hours sitting on the tarmac at Gatwick as the planes queued up to leave. The computer assigning the crews to push off the planes had broken down, blah de de blah blah. See how boring that is already? Welcome to my world. No, we couldn’t get off the plane to go back to the terminal, no, they couldn’t serve any drinks or food whilst on the ground, Airport Authority regulations, but we could have water if we wanted it. Whoop de doo. Then the couple next to me ( I had the window seat, exit door) started with the PDAs and I thought, “What fresh hell is this?” Luckily they were a) really nice, and b) managed to restrain  themselves so I resisted the urge to rip open the emergency door and throw myself on the tarmac. Nevertheless, following the debacle of the last trip to Guernsey (8-hour delay, anyone?) I had already turned down all offers of working abroad and this latest jamboree totally solidified that decision. I am so sick of living out of a suitcase, I can’t even begin to tell you. Even the fab views from my hotel room (see above), has not made a dent in my horror at the prospect of future trips.

Luckily, I had a brainful of poetry to amuse myself with or I would have lost it on the plane due to a potent mix of hypoglycaemia and sheer boredom. Fill your head with poetry, you never know when you’ll need it. An example of a  poem that kept me going:

This sketch has been composed to tell, the miracle about the cell.

Relating to a special trick,

It performs in arithmetic.

So gaze upon its humble size, and think how, when it multiplies,

It solves with effortless precision,

A major problem in division.

When a man is tired of Gatwick, it’s a sign of excellent taste. And the pictures of the Gatwick Airport? Boring, aren’t they? That was my view for 2 hours; why should I suffer alone? To quote Ogden Nash in Seaside mode:

You can share my jellyfish,

I am not sellyfish. 🙂

Have a peaceful, landlubbing week.

Save

Save

Save

/by

It’s true! Or is it?

7 2 3 4 5 6

It’s Monday and it’s my solemn mission to give my readers a headache. I’ve been musing about the content of this particular blog over the last few weeks. Being a pharmacist, I’m used to reading any number of spurious claims made by scientists in a bid to big up their research and attract funding– Cancer will be cured in 5 years, 10 years, 15 years etc etc. The latest article I read claimed in its headline that scientists could now explain NDEs ( near-death experiences: lights, floating, the tunnel, finding yourself in paradise or being dragged off to hell by scary monsters etc etc).  Do I need to tell you that having read the actual text, scientists have zero clue about NDEs? Of course not. What they can  do is trigger some aspects of it, not all, in some people, not all,  through oxygen deprivation in the lungs and the brain. They’ve been able to do that since the 80s, so epic fail all round. Another non-story.

It made me think of all the other ‘facts’ we believe in good faith, the belief in which can have serious consequences for us:

  • No two fingerprints are the same. Really? Who checked all 10 x 7 billion on earth. The odds may be small but is it absolute zero? Would you bet your murder trial on it? Exactly! Anyway, Paul Simon says he’s checked and they’re all the same, so there 🙂
  • No two snowflakes are identical. Really? Maternal (monozygotic) twins are identical in all respects, down to their DNA. It is now claimed that you can tell them apart by searching for mutations in their DNA but you would have to run their entire genomes, all 3.2 billion base pairs, and examine each base pair, hoping to find a mutation that coincides with your sample. Of course, every cell in the human body is in a state of change, so is the genome sample from last month identical to one you run this month?Er, dunno. Monozygotic twins do have non-identical fingerprints, or so we are assured. Please see above……
  • If a system as complex as a human being can be replicated exactly, is it really true that something as relatively simple as crystallised water molecules is never, ever replicated? There are approximately one billion snowflakes in each cubic foot of snow alone. Now think of Antarctica…… Of course, what scientists actually say is that it’s improbable that two snowflakes would be identical. What we hear is that two snowflakes can never be identical
  • Gravity. Proven constant force? Er, no. No one knows how it works, and it’s not constant across the earth. I have to admit that the fluctuations are very slight, but they are there and are measurable. No one knows if it has been constant all through earth’s existence. I like to think of Tyrannosauri Rex and Bronchosauri free-wheeling in the sky. What a trip.It is thought to be due to particles/waves called gravitons which as of now are hypothetical and have never been measured or observed. Gravity is inferred by its effects. So, if you see a group of young men preening and posturing and generally making asses of themselves, you can infer that there is a spectacularly beautiful woman nearby. Gravity and gravitons made flesh. AlaraApothecary: we explain science in ways that make sense 🙂 And the OS contour map? I included it because contour maps have always reminded me of fingerprints and I love the crazy swirls. As the Billster said:

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Keep questioning everything, and never drink the Kool-Aid. Simple rules to live by. Have a fantabulous week.

Save

Save

/by