Monday, 23 February 2009

helluvaweek

on the lighter side, have worked out where the hair is going.



moustache time again?

Sunday, 22 February 2009

more sad

Is there for honest Poverty
That hings his head, an' a' that;
The coward slave-we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, an' a' that.
Our toils obscure an' a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The Man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an' a that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine;
A Man's a Man for a' that:
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, an' a' that;
The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that;
Tho' hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that:
For a' that, an' a' that,
His ribband, star, an' a' that:
The man o' independent mind
He looks an' laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an' a' that;
But an honest man's abon his might,
Gude faith, he maunna fa' that!
For a' that, an' a' that,
Their dignities an' a' that;
The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may,
(As come it will for a' that,)
That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth,
Shall bear the gree, an' a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
It's coming yet for a' that,
That Man to Man, the world o'er,
Shall brothers be for a' that.

Friday, 13 February 2009

sad

After a long battle with ilness, my Mum's dog Nina had to be put down today. A lovely, daft, lazy labrador and she'll be sorely missed.

age?

managed to leave the house this morning without my rucsac. first time in 13 years of bike commuting.
i don't allow for contingency in my morning routine.

0805 rise
0806 start reading on bog
0820 finish chapter, put down book
0821 switch on radio scotland
0822 start dressing and pack rucsac
0830 leave house
0837 board train

if anything goes wrong in this tight schedule there's trouble.

trouble arrived.

realised about 500m from the train station and 1000m from home. bag contains shirt, undercrackers, socks, keys, phone, wallet tools and train tickets. thank fuck we've got rid of the yale lock...

swear-sprint-grab-swear-sprint-swear-train-phew!

EDIT: yes, i know the worst that could have happened here was being an hour late for work, but you don't know how time bound i am...

Wednesday, 4 February 2009