"My Gears Are Starting To Tremble", by Eskmo.
I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes. I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over. I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong. And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions. I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely. It's what we do.
Friday, 10 December 2010
Tuesday, 7 December 2010
She said "No you cannot see, Oh no you cannot see- my naked body."
This song, this song in particular, reminds me of summer evenings, sitting on the porch of the little yellow house, watching the sun setting, with a plate of food, a bottle of beer, a couple of good friends, all of us lazing, dreaming, and Leonard Cohen singing in the candle-lit house behind us.
Saturday, 4 December 2010
Wednesday, 1 December 2010
An Observation on Earthmovers
Earthmovers, bulldozers, diggers, they're often referred to in a somewhat negative way, earth-rippers, despoilers of the planet.
But on my way home from work today, a different side of the heavy plant story occurred to me, when I saw this...
And this...
Yes, when the men in hard-hats and steel-toed boots leave the site, the laughter and swearing's fading, engines are hushed, it's then, and only then, that you'll see the protective, nurturing instincts of a mother excavator.
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