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October 23, 2008

Here I go again. Once more, I'm going to try to sustain a blog... Let's see how it goes...

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Escapology

(J'ai réécrit cet article en Français ici)

We recently got a place in the countryside. So we're now splitting our time back and forth between the house out here and the flat back in Wapping.

And so that means the guinea pigs come back and forth with us too. At first they weren't so keen on the idea; previously the cat basket had been associated with trips to the vet and the ensuing prodding and poking, so they didn't take too kindly to it. But now, after only a couple of months, they've settled into the routine of going back and forth between two cages.

Given we moved into this house when it was still cold, their cage was in the sun room. I wouldn't call it so much as a conservatory; it's just a simple building attached to the back of the house with lots of windows, and heating and lighting - so ideal for the guinea pigs in winter when we wouldn't really be using the room anyway.

Also in there are the gerbils. They don't always come back and fo…

What's wrong with being comfortable?

I like a good sofa. A nice big sofa which is squishy enough to mould itself to my shape as I relax on it and yet not so soft as to let my back slip into a position that's going to cause me grief when I stand up.

I've been sitting on sofas for a lot of my adult life, and never once has someone suggested to me that I should try sitting on something less comfortable in order that I see what it feels like, and maybe expand my definition of comfort.

And yet, there seems to be an obsession with "getting outside ones comfort zone" as reason enough to do things wouldn't normally do - even to spend vast sums of money on them.

Some people thrive on a thrill. Those are the people who enjoy the adrenaline rush of jumping out of a plane, or sticking their hands above their head on a roller coaster and enjoying the feeling of being upside down flying through the air.

However, not everyone is wired that way.

I've been on roller coasters in the past, and they don't r…

The Theatre

Today I had an operation on my finger. Let's not get too carried away with the seriousness of the operation, it was something very simple and the length of the operation itself was measured in minutes rather than hours. It was only the second time I've ever had an operation; the previous one was to remove all my wisdom teeth and was done under a general anaesthetic.

And so today I was just having a local - more on that in a minute - which gave me an opportunity I may never get again - the chance to actually see inside an operating theatre and talk to the surgeon whilst he's poking around inside my finger.

My contact with the medical professional has been thankfully quite sporadic throughout my life. That's not due to any stereotypical male reluctance to go and see a doctor but simply due to good fortune meaning that serious medical conditions have thus far eluded me. It was the first time I'd had those arrows drawn on in marker that you see on the TV when the …

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