peteashtondotcom

Second batch of Xmas photos for your enjoyment.
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I took a fair few photos over the Xmas period, as you do, and some of them might be of interest to people outside my family! Here’s the first lot…
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When I collected my kitchen stuff from storage in October I was somewhat struck by the paucity of my crockery, in that I had very little. Four plates and a bowl, in fact. Two of the plates I’d bought from a charity shop in Selly Oak in 1995, another I’d taken (along with numerous other bits and bobs) from a house when moving out in 1997 and he fourth I have no idea. The many years of moving house on average once a year had taken their toll.

In so happened that my step mother used to run a B&B (in fact that’s how my dad met her, but that’s another story (and not a bad one as it happens, but I digress)) and recently decided to clear out a load of stuff from that era. And so I found myself offered a load of china, more than I’ve ever owned, in one fell swoop. Not only plates but two, count them, two tea pots (with jug!), and all in that lovely B&B white/blue style.

At my current rate this should last me until 2012.

Well, after the five day marathon of employment I’ve had a good night’s sleep, got up at 9.00am and feel fairly good. And I got my only Xmas card this morning, which is one more than I was expecting, but then none of my friends know where I live thanks to my transitory year and the joys of electronic communication. Plus I don’t really go for this Xmas card malarkey.

I stopped giving cards sometime around, ooh, 1987 at school. I can’t remember the exact reason but I remember thinking that whole routine of giving everybody in your year a card, regardless of whether you liked them or not, was kinda stupid and one year I just plain forgot to get around to doing it. Since then no-one has ever received a plain Xmas card from me. Oh, I might have sent the odd one to Grandma or in lieu of a present but none of this mass mailing guff. And guess what, I still have friends. Odd that.

The same goes for cards generally. Chalk it up to having worked in a card shop for a bit (and selling cards in the bookshops), seeing the stretching eternity of blandness that constitutes that industry. Fact is, they’re all shit and I can’t bring myself to give something shit to someone I like. I’ll acknowledge that taken out of the context of the shop and marked with a personal message said card can take on a unique personality, but I’ve seen too much of the whole to take solace in the individual. And yes, there are nice cards out there, somewhere, but they’re so bloody expensive.

When I was younger I used to make cards for people. That sentence sounds really sad but some of the best cards I’ve received have been hand made, mainly from cartoonists (who have that skill and often the sense of humour to go with it) but also from non-artist’s like myself. Possibly the best card I ever got was a Valentines card from a girlfriend - a plain piece of red card folded over. Magic.

I don’t have a problem with people giving me cards, though I never know quite what to do with them after the event. During my bin-man job I was emptying someone’s recycling box and found a big wadge of birthday cards in there. There was about £30.00’s worth in this one inch thick bundle, which seemed a bit of a waste, though at least it was being recycled.

This isn’t something that really bugs me - it’s just that having been outside the card-giving circuit for so long I find the whole thing slightly odd. £2.00 (more of less) for a piece of mass produced printed card with my name scrawled at the top and someone elses at the bottom. I’d rather have a pint and a chat.

Now it’s off to try and fix the garden fence (which as mysteriously fallen down though I haven’t noticed much wind of late) before wrapping Xmas pressies and heading off for five days of family Xmas joy.

Enjoy yours!

Wow, a week without posting. Even with my current blogapathy (if you didn’t notice it then I’m obviously just being self conscious about it) that’s pretty bad.

Fact is I’ve been working for the first time since quitting the airport job a month back and while the job isn’t so bad (stock picking food for M&S in a cold storage warehouse) and only lasts a week, it’s in fucking Thatcham, between Newbury and Reading. Yes, I’m still living in Birmingham. I get picked up from the centre of town at 8.00am, work from 10 to 6 and get dropped off again at a little after eight. Add on my bus journey to and from home and I’m away for a little under 14 hours a day, every day since Friday. The pay is reasonably good (should net £345 before tax for five days brainless work) and tomorrow is the last day but right now I’m fucked. Six hours a day traveling is not good, especially as I find is really hard to get comfortable on coach seats. Moan moan, bloody moan. All ends tomorrow, then Xmas joy (major family stuff for nearly a week!) , then a nice short period of no-work, then back on the temp wagon again.

Here’s a question. I know I’ve got a small band of loyal readers out there. What do you want me to write about? Do you want tales of surreal temp work? The minutiae of my daily life? Strident but ill-thought-out opinions? Diatribes on the role of the outsider-non-artist railing against but dependent upon modern consumerist society? More of those tutorial thingies I started dabbling in? More photos? Brutally honest dark moments of the soul?

This is kinda important to me as I’ve been losing my way with this blog since moving to Birmingham. Actually, since stopping the Farmblog really. I’ve toyed with splitting it into multiple blogs, stripping it down to an LMG style linklog, starting up a new, anonymous diary blog somewhere or even just scrapping the whole thing and starting again, but I think the best thing to do is just keep going only with a better focus on what I’m doing this for.

When I read a non-specific mish-mash blog like my own I tend to read it selectively. skimming through some posts (for example ones on poetry) and dwelling on others (for example ones on music) and I imagine people do the same with mine. So, please let me know what aspects of this blog you actually read, either in the comments or, if you prefer, by email.

Thanks. (And sorry for rambling. I’m very tired…)

A few years ago the Evolution Control Committee had, amongst their wonderful audio archive, a load of full length radio shows hosted by one Grootnik P Bargelights. Having brief access to broadband around that time I downloaded all 21 of these two hour shows, stuffed them onto a couple of CDRs and quite enjoyed them.

GPB is a strange beast. Imagine, if you will, a cross between a Muppet and Wolfman Jack, only with a love of the so-bad-it’s-good, thrift store field of music, without the irony, delivered deadpan. Now listen to one of them.

Oh, sorry, you can’t. Understandably the ECC haven’t kept the 800MB of mp3s on their site as I discovered when I wanted to link to them a while back. A shame, as these radio shows kept me seriously entertained while on the farm. But wait! My wonderful hosting company recently upgraded my account at no extra cost and I’ve got 100MB just sitting there waiting for me to fill it with some exciting new project or other. Hmm…

So, in for the next couple of months I’ll be uploading 2-3 Grootnik P Bargelights shows every Monday for you to download and enjoy at your leisure.

(This is sadly all over now. If anyone has 800meg free and wants to host the files do get in touch)

Photos of no real importance.
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