And A Romantic One To Finish

Well, Sunday again, and not a word written. The good news is I have some concrete ideas ready to roll, but I have been somewhat distracted by the demands of job hunting. So, as is quickly becoming my norm, here's some nice pikchers.

The view across the back gardens of a quaint local village. Quite why (and how) I was in this back garden I cannot say. What would the Americans say? "I plead the Fifth."

Some kind of iris next to a pond. Hence the netting. Tho it gives is a "Matrix" feel, don't you think? Of all the flowers by the pond, this is The One. "Do you think that's water you're drinking?"

I believe this is a campanula, in one of those hues that gardeners insist on calling "blue" rather than "purple". I object on chromatic grounds, Yer Honour!

A Californian poppy with Forget-Me-Nots chasing. Perhaps they're pilot fish of some sort? I like the colour contrast, whatever they are.

Love-in-a-Mist. I have no idea why. I assume botanists smoke much of what they grow, and then name them. It makes me think of the deadly blooms in Jumanji.

Pink. Definitely.

My folks' back garden. Yes, yes, all arty and from ground level. It's amazing what the lens can do to upright things; those camapula are fine upstanding citizens normally.

An unusual post box, the first rural one I've seen embedded in a wall. I stopped the car suddenly, and narrowly avoided a remodelling of my tail section.

This is what the Boffins in Cambridge call "a chimney".

A couple of shifty-looking jackdaws...

... yes, they're definitely up to something.

So tell me... PICTURE 1 or...

... PICTURE 2? I'm divided.

Thistles! For Alistair and Gabrielle, who have been patiently waiting for me in Scotland for months. I'll be there soon, you two, honest injun!

A wild rose! Yes, a romantic one to finish.


Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009-2014
All photos are copyright © Indigo Roth, 2014

As Most Are Obvious

It's too hot here to write.

So, with apologies to Minnesota, who I'm told will be knee-deep in snow 'til August, here are some summery photos. I'm not even going to clutter them with words, as most are obvious.

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009-2014
All photos are copyright © Indigo Roth, 2014

No Distinguishing Features

I've felt recently that life does not contain enough intellectual rigour.

On a typical day, I rarely encounter much that requires me to rub more than a handful of brain cells together. I mean, do I walk to work or drive? Wear blue socks or black? Or order a Mighty Meaty pizza with jalapeños or a Pepperoni Passion with black olives? Or both? *

[ * I know, a total no-brainer.]

You see the problem. And it worries me. I don't want to lose my razor-keen mind; I may need it sometime.

Someone suggested that a white jigsaw might be the way to go. Have you seen those? One thousand similar-looking pieces, with no distinguishing features beyond edge pieces? I love jigsaws, have endless patience, and it would be a real brain-tickler of a challenge.

But no, I need more.

As you may know know, I'm an old hand at the Rubik's Cube. What could be more of a challenge than taking The Cube to the next level?

It's my own design, and I can't put it down.

I'm sticking close to the phone in case Parker Brothers call.


Thanks, Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009-2014

Making A Reasonable Argument

It's been a day of intrigue here in Cambridge.

King - our resident lion, connoisseur of zebras, and stealer of neckties - is an ambassador at the British Embassy. And occasionally he brings his work home with him.

This morning, I awoke to find him in my living room with the head of state for Antarctica, The Penguin Kaiser "Free Willy" Wilhelm.

(Worth a click to check out his uniform)

After some introductions, I expressed my surprise, as I felt sure Antarctica was a nationless continent. The little old rockhopper gave me the red-eye and declared in a heavy Germanic accent, that:

Ve are a new nation, ja? Many have staked a claim to ze continent, but who iz bedder to claim zovereignty than ze indigenous inhabitants?

This seemed an entirely reasonable argument. And as a penguin, he seemed entirely representative. He continued:

Ve vill soon take our place on ze vorld stage. Ve are an expanding nation, and at some point, ve vill need lebensraum!

I frowned, trying to remember this word. King stepped in and translated it for me as "living room".

A few minutes later, after a flurry of Teutonic curses, I had the house to myself again; King had exited with his colleague, to escort him back to his Embassy.

I'm a reasonable guy.

But nobody messes with my living room.


Indigo

Dedicated to my zookeeping matey Dazza Jordan
This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009-2014

Sharing A Brief Smile

Today is a beautiful Sunday.

Contrary to my usual behaviour, I think I'll go out and enjoy the sunshine. But I'd like to share a smile with you, albeit briefly, so I'll leave you with this bit of iconic fun.

This is definitely worth a click.

Enjoy your day.

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009-2014
You can see the original film poster here

An Outbreak Of Sea Fever

I'm must go down to the bins again, to the lonely bins by the shed,
Where a genius friend nails sky-tall tasks, a foil hat on his head,
While an engineer with square and tape, his briar pipe inching smoke,
Sees badgers jape in tights and cape, hiding things they've broke.

I must call in on Abbey soon, and bring her back for tea,
With sausage rolls and über-eclairs, plus a slice of 'za for me,
While a big black bear, his pinkie raised, and an elephant in a coat,
Scold a scoundrel lion in stolen tie, as he shares an anecdote.

I must be lucky in this life, to be right here right now,
Surrounded by the best of folk, and never knowing how,
For all I ask is a comfy seat, and the company of good friends,
And all the pizza I can eat, until this fine day ends.

Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009-2014
With apologies to John Masefield (1878 – 1967)

The Butler Didn't Do It

Sometimes, you get a break just when you need one.

It's October 2010. After some very stressful weeks getting important stuff done*, I was delighted to be invited to one of Bear's parties. He's just got engaged to his girlfriend Clarice, and I can think of no better reason to celebrate. Anyway, the pair of them love an excuse to dress up, so they decided to hold a murder-mystery party based on CLUEDO/CLUE.

[*Vague, I know.]

I just got back. Here's a picture of us, all dolled up.

(The picture's worth a click, there's tons of detail.)

From left to right:

Colonel Bear Mustard - The lad himself. Trust him to nab the best costume opportunity. But he carries it off magnificently, don't you think? The moustache was a nice touch; I can just see him sipping a gin and tonic in Poonah, India during the Reign of Victoria. And trust me, this fella can roar like a general.

Miss Clarice Peacock - Bear's beautiful fiancée. An American bear, originally from the deep woods in Augusta, Georgia. She'd not played the game before, so I explained that we were there to solve the murder of Doctor Black. For added realism, King provided a dead zebra, which he declared was Dr. Black-White, a close relative. I thought he'd never stop laughing.

Professor Indigo Plum - I dug out one of Uncle Idaho's old smoking jackets. I think he'd been smoking kippers in it. There was still one in the pocket, in fact. Luckily, there was time to dry clean it, else I'd never have got a date. On which subject...

Miss Abbey Scarlet - My lovely next door neighbour, and date for the evening. Blonde today, in a simple red t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Bare feet, as ever. Not exactly pulling out all the stops on the costume front, but every time she spoke to me I forgot my name.

Reverend Max Green - Taking time off from invading Bolivia in a submarine, Herr Doktor Tunguska brought his own murder weapons along. I salute him; when he method acts, this guy goes deep. Of course, the Reverend's attire is his own. He's diverse.

"Mrs" T-101 White - A late addition to the party. This decommissioned Terminator has been in the shed for a while, but agreed to cross-dress to play the cook and make up the boy/girl ratio. He rather liked the idea, actually, and already had his own pig-tailed wig. Worrying. The chef's apron was another late addition; we didn't want to frighten the horses.

We had a lot of fun.

And the butler didn't do it.

It turned out it was Max in the Lavatory with the Chainsaw.

Some things never change.


Indigo

This blog entry is protected by copyright © Indigo Roth, 2009-2014