Everything You Vaguely Knew About Owls And Some Things You didn't Know Because You Were Too Afraid To Be Bored

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Let's be fair here. The Secret Life of the Owl by John Lewis-Stempel is not the sort of book I'd normally read. I've made my view on this blog before that basically I'm ambivalent towards animals other than dogs of which I've a childhood phobia.

That said having finished this mercifully slim book I'm surprised by how much I've actively disliked it.

Basically the book is split into three sections. The first is basically a compendium of facts about owls. Did you know Owls have a particular way they process food? (Vaguely I actually did). Did you know Pablo Picasso kept an owl? (No I did not....and I don't care). Do you want some poetry featuring owls? (NO!.....But it's there anyway).

So we get fact on fact on owl fact ploughed into us.

Then comes section two. Short pieces on owls that live in Britain and those that visit. I wonder if this is how The Observer Book on Owls would have worked. It also seems, given the writer is a nature writer, remarkably impersonal.

Finally we get to the first section. Which seemed just a longer version of the first bit for owl based info.

Only in the short couple of pages of the epilogue do we get an idea of how this book should have been written. In it he describes a personal encounter with an owl. It made me realise that he should have followed the manner of Robert Macfarlane or Jean Sprackland of having a personal based challenge, say seeking all the owls in Britain, discussing them whilst interspersing them with owl facts.

Now that would have been a wiser move.

Until the next time.

Like Finding Something Valuable On A Beach

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

If we're talking about a normal sized book, then as a rule it takes me much longer than a day to finish it. Normally three factors come into play. I have the time, I have no other distractions and I want to go on.

Well yesterday those factors came to me. Helped along by some pretty miserable weather and in terms of rugby most Welsh people having Georgia on their mind (the team they were playing against).

So the book I read and completed in a day was Strands by Jean Sprackland. A book about the things she discovers on the same stretch of beach during a year(Ainsdale Sands between Blackpool and Liverpool).

And what she discovers could be various, literally from antique porcelain to Prozac, animal (not vegetable) mineral and man-made almost all flotsam of life seem to be washed on the shores.

This book did not inspire me to wander Barry Island grab whatever from the sand, search for details of what I collected through the year and write about it. Regular readers will know that aside from gazing at the views I'm not a beach body....and I don't have one either.

But whilst it didn't give me the enthusiasm to follow her. What Strands did do was to remind me of what a book does at it's best better than any other art forms. It takes a seemingly dull subject and thanks to the voice of the writer transforms it to something really special. For yes dear reader I loved this book. If it wasn't borrowed from the library I would have put it on a bookshelf marked "quiet little gem".

It's worth a read. For then you can savour the taste of what true writing is all about.

Until the next time.

An Hour To Kill With Nothing To Do....Let's Chat

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

On afternoon/evening shift today. Need to leave at 12:30. I start getting ready for work at twelve. So I have an hour. Nothing to do which can be finished sooo.....I'm online.

When I was at work yesterday had a quick look at the local Bridgend paper. It mentioned one thing about the Carwyn Jones/Carl Sargeant situation I was unaware of. You may remember on Saturday I mentioned that my wife saw a police presence around Carwyn Jones' house the previous day? Well it appears someone put a graffiti message on his house. You can only imagine what it was. But obviously it wasn't pleasant.

As my wife said this morning. He must be constantly asking the question to himself why he gave those TV interviews on Monday?

Also it appears that Bridgend council and the traders have done some sort of deal with regard to Bridgend Indoor Market (which I've discussed about for over a year now). The trouble with the deal is that it does not address the one issue that could help solve the stallholders' problems. The problem is not the state of the market but the state of the town. Until Bridgend Town becomes more attractive again it's decline will continue and less people will go there. The Council needs to act. But you know it won't. And if it does it'll be moving even more in the wrong direction if past experience is anything to go by.

Latest book I got from the library is:



Quite looking forward to reading this. Am disappointed with the current library book I'm reading. But I'll chat about that when I've finished it.

It's half eleven. I give you lunch. A cup of tea with a chicken and too much pickle sandwich.

I Know You're Salivating

Of late I've been having a lot more pickle with everything. Don't really know why except it's probably because I'm old.

Whether is bright out there. Let me tell when you're working shifts there are few more depressing sights than a bright day. For that means people will be enjoying themselves when you're at work!

Ah well. The hour of dour is at end. Time to get ready for work.

Until the next time.