Avascular necrosis

It started with a feeling of tendonitis, but got worse until I could barely walk. So off to the physiotherapist and he sent me for an x-ray and I have avascular necrosis. This is basically a shortage of blood to the bone, so the bone dies. The first thing they tried was to drill into the bone to see if the bloodflow would start again. No such luck - had to have a hip replacement. The pain is indescribable long after and I am still walking with a stick, but I like to say I'm the right side of being ill. Just got to build the body up. Starting to do more for myself again and started teaching myself to paint. It''s very relaxing as is learning about art and going to art galleries. You can get some good apps and kindle material on artists at reasonable prices. It was Escher that got me interested and there are some great surrealists out there. Have a look for a book called Illusion and one called Masters of deception. Why lot leave a comment about anything I've had to say?

Pleasant visit

Was doing a bit of painting and my dad mentioned the idea of going for a visit. It was ages since we'd been to Cragside country house so off we went. I was feeling a bit nervous because I wasn't sure how my leg would hold up' I'll tell you about that soon. The disabled bays were a good way away from the house but they had a cool little bus service. When you go in it strikes you just how rich these people were. But Lord Armstrong was an engineering genius. A river runs through the grounds and he used it to power everything from electric lights to rotisserie. The kitchen is huge and there are more rooms than anyone coupled hope to use. There is also, as you will expect some beautiful art works. Ill come back with some photos when I sort out the camera...

White Pen

I've seen this little beast mentioned many times and have wondered as to its fame. Then I happened upon a blue sky printed using a computer and I could not get anything to draw on it with, until I used my white pen. It took a few coats but gave a wonderful 3d cloud that looks like oil painting. Now I'm a fan and am after some other colours 

Opposite direction

Now pointing the other way

Live

Reporting live from the Laing! It's busy in here today and there are some dreadfully loud and bad mannered individual. I really don't want to know their business. Oh bigger I've left my walking stick downstairs. Anyway it's relaxing sitting here and this is my immediate vision

At last!

Finally got into the Laing. Was it worth it? Absolutely. It's an 18 and 19th Century exhibition. They have 6 John Martin's out. I've been a fan for ages but to be in the presence of greatness was mindblowing. Also have works by Hedley, Gainsborough and numerous others like Isabella with a basil pot. I'll let you find out the story. These works make your blood pump and the hair on the back of your neck stand up. I have included some copies but they can't do the originals justice. 

Cheer myself up

As the gallery was closed I headed for the bookshop to see what I could see. They had a monster of a book called Art : the definitive guide. At £30 it was a monster of a price as well. It is the most fascinating book on art I have ever seem and it is beautifully illustrated,

Oh dear

I'm afraid I must hang my head in shame. It seems that the gallery is closed on Mondays. Mind you that isn't what they put on their website, so I don't think I'll take total responsibility.

They are advertising a talk on Isabella with a Pot of Basil. This isn't usually my sort of thing but I'm very taken with the painting.

Worst swear word

Think of the worst swear word you use and apply it to inaccurate websites. Got to the town, parked and ready to go: straight towards darkness and locked doors! The Laing was closed. 

They might be inaccurate but not deliberately misleading. Got a video last night that was supposed to be a story of warring parents that deteriorated into total chaos and violence. Get that swear word ready-they didn't even say that. Gave up and started watching Goon

Laing art gallery

Brilliant. The Laing art gallery is open with a new exhibition!!! They are supposed to have The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. If you don't know of John Martin I recommend you look at his work. It is believed that he influenced how Hollywood films are made. Can't wait to go. I'll come back and babble on about it!

Stupidity

I promised stupidity so here we go...Living on a farm is a great adventure on your off-road bike. The trouble is adventure is facing the unknown.

I was riding gently through long grass on a field I'd not been to. It looked level. The first I knew otherwise the front wheel had dropped into a 3 foot ditch and I flew over the handlebars. Would you believe I didn't break my glasses but I did get whiplash and concussion. Then we.had to use the quad to pull the bike out. What a palaver!

America

Watched. Film called God Bless America. A man is sick of all the petty Jarred's in the world and decides to clean up. With a psychopathic teenager by his side he goes on a spree killing the selfish, rude and downright nasty. I'll not spoil it for you but it is worth a watch and most can probably relate to Frank.

Another pet hate

This is a brief one; cruelty to animals. There is no excuse. If you're training use treats not punishment. You'll be grateful later when that little animal comes up to you instead. Of cowering at your approach. Here's a picture of our dog, Becky

I'm proud to say she loves everyone and is so gentle.

This morning

God I wish I could sleep. Watched the most annoying film I've ever seen last night. It was basically about suicide bombers and was expectedly violent, which takes me on to one of my pet hates: arrogance. Between it and religion it has killed more people than is imaginable.

Wallington

Just had a trip to Wallington Hall. It really is a beautiful place. Given modern entry costs if you're near some sites you want to visit more than once it's worth joining. 

The National Trust has a new attitude to photos in a lot of places. Previously you weren't allowed to take photos, but now you can as long as the flash is off, but be prepared for people to wander through your shot, because I swear they don't even know where they are, let alone you!

Some more

Matisse was accused of doing things any child could do, and he answered very cheerfully, ‘Yes, but not what you could do.’ Allan Kaprow

Jarski, Rosemarie (2010-09-02). Funniest Thing You Never Said 2 (p. 364). Ebury Publishing. Kindle Edition.

Sculpture is the art of the hole and the lump. Auguste Rodin

 We sculptors are generally less nervy than painters because we get a chance to hammer out our neuroses. Henry Moore

He didn’t like heads, did he? John Prescott, opening an exhibition of Henry Moore’s sculptures
To be a sculptor you need to be one part artist and nine parts navvy. John Skeaping

For Alberto Giacometti, to sculpt is to take the fat off space. Jean-Paul Sartre

I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free. Michelangelo Buonarroti

Jarski, Rosemarie (2010-09-02). Funniest Thing You Never Said 2 (p. 366). Ebury Publishing. Kindle Edition.

This made me smile

I believe that if life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade... And try to find somebody whose life has given them vodka, and have a party.

Ron White

I don't even like vodka. I used to like Tequila, but I gave myself alcohol poisoning and was off school for a week!

Heating

Well, at least least last night I got some sleep but not  enough, it still resulted in the overconsumption of biscuits! We used to have a shop that sold gifty type things, but it went bottoms up. It had no gas so it had a lovelt flame effect electric heater, with a remote control! It's a shame but it had to go somewhere and I had my eye on that heater from the moment we knew we were closing because in my bedroom if you have a glass of water on your sidestand you can bet it'll be frozen by morning. Now there it is in pride of place and I'm not going to freeze my wotsits off!

Cottages

I've been on for ages with my cottage picture, only to find that it looks far too small compared to everything, but not small enough to pretend it's a gnome house. I'm going to use multi media (cheat) by scanning in the picture, removing the house and putting a lovely little cottage in that I can find somewhere on the internet. It isn't really cheatin because art is digital now anyway isn't it and it seems such a shame to dump it...

Awake

That was a weird night. If you read my previous post you'll know why. Well things have improved with the sunshine, but the attempt I made with my painting is going to take some fixing. 

I have spoken about visual art, but what about written. My favourite books are Three Men in a Boat and Zen Art for Meditation. I have first editions of each,an 1884 of boat andother copies of.each in czse something happens to one of them. I also have a copy of Boat on my Kindle. It sounds zodd I know but they usually make me feel jolly. You should polick up some copies...

Vermeer

Lying here unable to sleep as usual. I have depression you se and sometimes it makes things move that really ought to be still and sometimes there are things that aren't there at all. Have you ever had the feeling there's someone under the bed? Could you sleep? No? My mind turns to two paintings by Vermeer (painted the Girl in the Pearl Earring). I'm thinking of the Geographer and the Astronomer. They remind me of the Iron Maiden album Seventh Son of a Seventh Son. Or maybe it's just my state of mind. I'm sure it'll be different at dawn,,,

Photo tinkering

I got a lovely little app for my phone that I've been playing wit. It twists your photo into a vortex. Got a bit of a fright with this one because there wasn't a castle in the original photo!

No Carbs

This diet is going to be the death of me- low carbs, bread with bits in, no bloody biscuits. Still I potter on and am trying to get back into writing for magazines, but it's proving difficult, even though I did it for years. If it wasn't for these showers of bastards that call themselves servants of the people we wouldn't be in this mess. Have a look at a John Martin picture, mainly because I like him but because I'd like to stick the MPs there-

Silver ship

I went to Sunderland museum and art gallery, which has a strong connection with ships. There was a model silver ship, designed to hold the eating utensils and salt and pepper etc. Unbelievable!

Magnifier

I'm testing a compact digital camera for the magazine. A great little Olympus. Ideal for the outdoors or for taking snaps while just pottering about. It's drop proof, waterproof, freeze proof and has a GPS. 

The amazing thing though is it has this macro magnifying ability. If you put this close to something and zoom in. The item being snapped is magnified hugely without any loss of quality.  I have the catalogues of art available in the North East of England. As you can imagine there are a lot of small pictures. So I tried the camera and it produced an image large enough and good enough to use as a print in your house! In England it's called the Olympus TG 2. It's worth checking out....

Tea

Let me first say that I am not a fan of tea; I am a coffee addict, but I loved this poem on the back of a menu in a tea room at an art gallery.

From computers to country boy

            I have always considered myself to be a bit of a country boy, growing up in a rural village; the surrounding fields and woodlands were my playground when I was a child. Unfortunately the rural village has become a small town and I have long since left it behind. My next home was also what I would call rural – it was right next door to a farm and the tractors would often be seen and heard moving up and down the street on their various errands. Oh yes I was a country boy.

            Well as all things in nature change, so did my life and personal habitat, through a series of unfortunate events that are not necessary for the telling of this story. I found myself in my father’s house, a farm cottage in rural Northumberland. I very quickly had my preconceptions of my countryside heritage challenged. The relative isolation caught me completely off guard. Gone were the noisy neighbours and the sound of speeding cars and trucks; this was quiet with a capital Q.

            Gone was my leisurely stroll to the local pub; I now had to rely on a lift to get my refreshment; though this was no great loss, because the country pub (my new local) was to be a friendly and welcoming place. A log stove burning in the corner, fighting off the winter chill and providing an ideal platform for the roasting of chestnuts as we move towards Christmas. The same friendly faces and happy banter provide the perfect accompaniment to the odd pint.

            The friendly hospitality can also be found on the farm. The people living around us always say hello and enquire after everyone’s health. When summer comes around there are a good number of barbecues to be invited to, where the food and drink flows freely. After the dishes are cleared away it is time to sit, chat, reflect and wait for the bats to come out on their nightly rounds. There are a number living under the stone lintel of the farm cottage, and as if an alarm has sounded they emerge one after another in pursuit of their prey.

            The farm cat, in a wonderful display of hopeful futility tries to catch the bats as they zip past him. His method is simple, and wholly unsuccessful. He jumps, turns himself on his back in midair, waves his paws about and lands back on his feet, with an expression that says simply “what did I do?” The same cat could often be found lying inside the bird table. It is possible to imagine him lying there, mouth agape, waiting for an unfortunate bird to fly into his jaws. Of course it never happened, but the image will stay with me for some time.

            As the bats flit about it begins to get dark. This is another thing that catches me by surprise; just how dark it gets. I was used to the orange glow of sodium vapour lamps; out here it is only the glow of the moon and the brightness of the stars that break up the night sky. An owl hoots close by and there on the chimney top is the silhouette of a tawny owl; standing alert, watching, taking little notice of we people. This is its time – its habitat, we are only observers.

            Darkness moves in and it is time to call it a night and head for bed. A light rustling and a confused “moo” seems to come from nearby. That seems really close to be one of the farm cattle I think as I half drift off to sleep. I thought I must have been hearing things. However the next morning the evidence suggested otherwise. Right in the middle of the lawn was a huge cow pat. None of the garden furniture was disturbed, the bird table remained upright and all was well in the garden, except for the one little gift.

            The constant contact with livestock and the abundance of wildlife has been a continual source of entertainment and joy, but there was to be a new arrival. A goat was found running down the middle of a busy road in Newcastle upon Tyne. Quite how the beast came to be running down the road remains a mystery. There was some speculation that it was to be used in some sacrificial ceremony, but the truth will probably never be known.

            Anyway, through someone who knew someone, the goat came to the farm. It was put into the small field just behind the cottage, with a little shelter. This goat had other plans though – it simply would not stay where it was put. It wanted to be around people. Escaping on a nightly basis it would make its way down to the back door of the cottage and demand to be petted like a dog. I once made the mistake of  leaving the doors open and the goat roaming free, while I went to get something from the house. On my way back out I was faced with a goat standing expectantly in the living room. I eventually managed to encourage the animal outside, but it demanded attention, gently butting my leg until I stroked it. I couldn’t help but wonder if this happened anywhere else, and how fortunate I was to be there. Eventually the goat was to move on to another farm because of its mischievous behaviour, and by latest information she is perfectly happy in her new home.

            Wild visitors have also played a large part in my countryside education. The cats are let out to roam the farm on an evening, and one evening one of them was paying unusual interest towards the bin. There was a squeaking sound and the cat would jump back, then move forward again, head down, investigating something. Curiosity as to what could be making the cat behave like that made me investigate. There, trapped between our cat and the cottage wall was a young rabbit. The cat was intrigued by it, but needless to say the interest in being friends was not mutual. After some gentle encouragement, the cat was moved away and the rabbit made good its escape.

            Hedgehogs are also regular visitors during the summer. Sitting quietly in the garden there will be a snuffling, snorting noise as the little creatures make their rounds of the garden. The cat food left outside for them was not good enough for one brave visitor, who decided the food bowls inside the house were far more appealing. Snorting and snuffling it took the bemused cat’s food from right under its nose.

            I may have had a basic idea of countryside life as a child, but it was not preparation for the reality of truly rural life. The camaraderie, the constant surprises, the wonderful wildlife, the peace and tranquillity and the fantastic surroundings are all to be appreciated. When I get closer to home, as the road narrows and the hedges seem to move in, and the majestic trees spread their branches, I begin to relax and feel that I have returned to civilisation, rather than having left it.

Art obsession

When I was a kid I was hopeless art and nothing's really changed. Except that my obsession with other people's work had urged me to learn. I also didn't think you could learn, I thought it was one of those things you were just good at, until I read an interview with a famous artist who said something along the lines of everyone is an artist when they are children, we just stop doing it. Does good art inspire you to paint or does it put you off?

Just painting is hard enough but making it look like two things at once? I wouldn't know where to start.

 

 

 I've been to a couple of art galleries in the past week and a few paintings have caught my attention:

These are from top to bottom Penitent and Charity by  William-Adolphe Bouguereau

 

They just raise such empathy and pathos.

 

I'm going to cause a controversy here, I really don't think that modern art is capable of working on that level and don't think it takes as much skill. My own personal view is that much art shoudn't even be referred to as art; it takes neither skill nor imagination. Please remember this is just my own personal view and I don't seek to force it on anyone else!

 

Having said that I don't like all art becauseit's old. When I visited the Louvre they had some fantastic - take your breath away paintings.I walked around the corner and there was a huge gathering of people around one painting; the Mona Lisa.





I looked closely, far away and from every angle but I just didn't get, I could and can not figure out what the hype is. I'm a lover of landscapes,especially those with a road or path that leads off into the distance and promises new sights and new adventure.

Even when you're not at work, you're working

I quickly found out that a range is never 'off duty' but always being asked for favours, like building fences or cutting trees down. I seemed to find a huge amount of injured animals that were carefully transported to vets and private sanctuary. One year I lost count of the number of hedgehogs I found. We did have some healthy little ones to the garden and they got fed and watered. An article on the little creature found me published for the first time. I've incuded it below. I hope you like it!

 

 

 

The summer barbecue is just finished; the dishes cleared away and the coals giving off a warm glow. It doesn’t feel quite time to go into the house though; the mild breeze encourages a few more minutes of just sitting in peace. A snuffling, snorting, scrabbling sound comes from the corner of the garden. This is most likely the local “erchin” starting its nocturnal investigations.

            “Erchin” is just one of the many names for what is probably Britain’s most commonly seen mammal; the hedgehog. The scientific name: Erinaceus europaeus translates quite simply as European Hedgehog, and was first used by Pliny the Elder. This name is from the Greek for hedgehog: “cher”, which is from Indo-European “ĝhēr”, meaning a spiny creature. This is where the word “urchin” has its origins. In the sixteenth century it was applied to people because of their ragged appearance or the sharpness of their wit. Names related to urchin include “erchin”; “hirchen”; “hurchaeon” and “urcheon”.

The relationship between people and hedgehogs has been ambivalent over the years. To some it is a welcome garden visitor, to others a carnivorous pest, and to some a bearer of bad omen. Various attributes have been attached to this little mammal, some true, some unexplained, and many wildly superstitious. One thing remains constant though; it is a well known companion.

            As the name suggests their habitat is generally the hedgerow; something of which Northumberland can boast a proportionately large amount; though in Britain they may be found almost everywhere, except some Scottish Islands. They tend not to be found in wet areas or pine forests. Also uplands and mountains are not popular because there is a shortage of nesting sites and food supplies. Hedgehogs have also adapted their lifestyle for urban survival. They make good use of cemeteries, railway land, parkland, and of course gardens.

            Adults are about twenty-five centimetres long and can weigh up to a kilogramme. Males are usually heavier than females, but size and weight vary considerably between individuals. The most obvious characteristic is of course the spiny back, the rest of the animal remains largely invisible, because of its tendency to roll into a ball when approached. A closer look will reveal a fairly unremarkable body. Each foot has five toes, bearing strong claws. The tail is short and inconspicuous, while the snout is long and pointed with a black nose. It does have rather large ears, but they do not protrude far from the fur around the head. The spines on the back are hairs that have developed into the strong, but light covering that is so well known.

            There are several colloquial names that have been applied to the hedgehog; including “hedge-pig”; “furze-a-boar”; “hag hog”; “porkpoint”; and “furzehog”. The connection with the hog is probably because of the method that the animal employs while searching for food. It snuffles and snorts about (very loudly), head down, making steady progress on its route. This suggests that it is smell that plays the largest part in its search for food, although hearing is probably also involved.

            Beetles and caterpillars form a large part of the diet, though other ground living invertebrates may also be consumed; such as spiders, earthworms, slugs and earwigs. Unfortunately, they will also take bird eggs, which is a concern in some areas of bird conservation, such as the the Uists; islands to the west of the Scottish mainland, which are home to many rare wading birds. The solution to the problem has not been agreed as to whether a cull is needed, or if relocation of hedgehogs is practical.

They do also sometimes eat fruit and there is an old notion that they roll over onto apples to impale them on their spiny backs, to be carried away for later. This idea is attributed to claims of Pliny the Elder but is given little acceptance in reality. Hedgehogs are not known to store food, and such acrobatics to gather it are unlikely.

            Hedgehogs are also credited with the questionable ability of eating adders, and that they are immune to the snake’s venom. This has led to mythology that the animal is a killer of the evil serpent and is therefore a warrior for good. It is also, paradoxically, seen as a symbol of avarice and gluttony; probably because of the hog-like behaviour shown when searching for food. Presumably because of its spines, it has also been taken as a sign of wrath. It was believed that they could fire their spines out like arrows. This myth most likely arose from the fact that when the spines are erected old spines fall out; as spines are gradually replaced approximately every eighteen months.

A belief making the animal unpopular with farmers was that a hedgehog would suckle from a lactating cow. However this also seems unlikely as the cow would probably take unkindly to the sharp teeth, even if the hedgehog could gain access to the udder. They are usually welcome to the garden though, as they are natural pest controllers as well as attractive little animals.

If you wish to encourage hedgehogs into your garden the best way to do it is to provide some food. Traditionally this has been bread and milk, but this is not a beneficial diet for your visitor. Hedgehogs cannot digest milk and it can cause diarrhoea, leading to dehydration and ultimately death. Additionally, bread will make the animal feel that it has had enough to eat, when in fact it has not taken in enough nutrients. A good diet to provide is one of dog food and, surprisingly cat biscuits are also a welcome offering that can help maintain the health of the animal’s teeth.

Another way for the gardener to provide help is to leave piles of leaves behind sheds and under hedges. This gives the hedgehog a place to shelter and build its hibernaculum. This place to hibernate is very important to the hedgehog. Hibernation is not merely sleep; it is an energy conservation method to get them through the lean winter months. The bodily functions slow down greatly, including heart rate and body temperature, until they are in a kind of suspended animation. They will remain in hibernation throughout the winter, unless there is a particularly mild spell. Hedgehogs are ready to breed in April, soon after hibernation ends. The nest is also a pile of leaves and grass. Between three and five young are born; at first pink and blind, but sprouting hairs after only a few hours. The main predators of the hedgehog are the fox and the badger.

In fact the hedgehog not only faces problem from predators but also problems caused by people, such as the use of pesticides, slug pellets, drowning in ponds and of course cars. It is also prone to many illnesses. These are too numerous to mention here; Practical Wildlife Care by Les Stocker (2002) devotes a whole chapter to hedgehog afflictions. They range from fleas (which cannot be passed to humans or pets) to “balloon syndrome”. The cause of balloon syndrome is unclear, while the effects are obvious; the animal swells up like a balloon. Its soft skin swells until the feet can’t touch the ground, and the hedgehog is helpless. Treatment is literally to puncture the skin, using either a scalpel, or a syringe and tap to release the air.

The most common problem seen in hedgehogs is “Out During Daylight” (ODD). They are strictly nocturnal and will usually not come out during the day unless they are youngsters that have not been able to find enough food; they are ill or injured, or they are blind and have lost the concept of night and day. Any of these usually call for intervention but it is best to phone the RSPCA or a wildlife sanctuary if you are in any doubt.

Many superstitions, other than their methods of obtaining food, have been attached to the little mammal. The nest for example was thought to be a reliable method of predicting the weather, or at least what the prevailing winds were to be:

            Observe which way the hedgehog builds her nest,

                        To front the north or south, or east or west;

                        For it ‘tis true that common people say,

                        The wind will blow the quite contrary way

                                                            (Poor Robin’s Almanac for the Year of Our Lord 1733)

            Where this belief came from and whether there is any truth in it remains unknown, but it is yet another legend attached to the already mysterious creature.

            The superstition does not end there however; hedgehogs have long been associated with evil, witches and witchcraft – paradoxically as they have also been seen as adversaries of evil. Possibly the most famous witches in English literature chanted:

                        Thrice and once the hedgepig whined     (Macbeth, Act 4, Scene 1)

            As recently as the nineteenth century the existence of this belief is supported by the story of an unfortunate hedgehog in Co. Wexford. Believing it to be a witch the local people threw the creature into a pool to discover whether it would float or sink. The ability to swim sealed the animal’s fate and it was burned as a witch.

            Unfortunately, many hedgehogs are still burned today, though by accident rather than design. Bonfires that are built up over time provide an irresistible shelter for them. When the fire is lit they do not have time to escape the flames. It is therefore a good idea to check a bonfire for hedgehogs before lighting it.

            The reputation of the “erchin” is then a variable one, but it is to most a welcome and dear visitor. References to “our” hedgehog are common, and in many cases they become quite tame (I’ve had one venture into the house to grab some food from the cat bowls). Behind all the superstition and negative omen is a wonderful little creature, which we can all be entertained by. Hopefully we will see many this summer and we can all enjoy their company.

Ranger Rambling

For a good while I was a countryside ranger. For those who don't know what that is, join the club. I necver figured it out myself. I'll describe a little of the life and you may get a clue!

 

            The work of the countryside ranger has two main faces and these are dictated by the weather and the season. My work in the field began in the summer, so I was thrown into the chaos that is the heavy visitor season. The face of this season is that of the socially interactive, “point of contact” person. The park where I worked could happily expect over a thousand visitors, on a bright, sunny day, and these people were all from different walks of life, with differing views on what made a “good day in the country”.

            There were still the regular visitors, who came along rain or sunshine, and would stop for a chat, to comment on the weather, and the number of visitors we had in that day. Then there were those visitors that came for a special day out in the country. Most of the time the two would move along happily, side by side, but sometimes there was tension. This seems inevitable: the regulars naturally developed a feeling of ownership of the park, while the summer visitors could be a bit boisterous. This is where the diplomacy of the work became important. It is also part of the policeman’s role in the job.

            One day we were called upon to break up a fight; it was not, as you might imagine, two teenage boys, but a girl beating her boyfriend around the head with her handbag. The language coming from the pair of them was unrepeatable. In the end the only solution to the problem was to intervene carefully, and to call the group a taxi; they’d had rather too much to drink to be able to drive. Needless to say, the regulars were far from impressed. Sometimes the eyes and ears of our regular visitors were invaluable in our looking after the park. While we might be really busy in the visitor centre, someone may see something going on elsewhere.

            One example of this is the time when a dog-walker heard the sound of chopping wood, and noticed a tent on the top of an embankment. The main reason he mentioned it was that camping was not allowed in the park, other than organised groups, such as scouts. On investigating the tent we found a young ash tree had been hacked half down, for no other reason than it was there; the hatchet  still embedded in the tree. Waking the two teenage boys, we challenged them on their behaviour, and they denied all knowledge. We pointed out that the evidence went against them, and on offering their hatchet back to them, they accepted it! They were then asked to leave.

            Probably one of the most common sources of our having to challenge visitors was the portable barbecue. These really were the bane of our lives. The problem is that whatever they are put on, grass or picnic tables, they burn an unsightly brown rectangle. Unfortunately, by the time we had spotted the smoke, the barbecue was well underway, and our requests that it be lifted onto some old timber were not welcome. We were especially unwelcome at one barbecue, where the boys had piled old sticks on it to make a camp fire, and had then thrown on an empty aerosol, which exploded. Bearing in mind there were several other visitors around, the group was asked to leave.

            Of course the summer is not just about challenging unruly behaviour, it is about customer relations. This is the other face of the work. We were there to ensure that people had an enjoyable visit. Whether this was simply giving directions on how to get to the river most quickly or removing animals that had died in the park, so that people did not get upset by them. This may seem like sanitising the countryside, but we really didn’t want children playing with dead rabbits, or trying to pet those that had myxomatosis.  

Unfortunately, on my first day I was to find a dead red squirrel, with no signs of injury. I radioed my manager and asked him if he wanted it at the visitor centre. Once returned it was to be sent off to assess what might have killed it. There was a healthy red squirrel population in the park, and any chance that parapox (a disease carried by grey squirrels, which is fatal to reds) was present was to be treated with the utmost caution.

            Our busiest time was the summer school holidays. As I’ve mentioned there were the regular visitors, the people out for an occasional day in the countryside, but there were also those who came for the activities for children. There were far too many activities to list them here, but they went from kite making to pond dipping. There were four activities per week; two on Tuesdays and two on Fridays, with one held in the morning and the other in the afternoon.

            The first activity I was to lead was a pond dip, and being the quietest of people (I was always the quietest child in class), I was terrified. What if someone fell into the pond? What if someone found something I couldn’t identify? In the end the event went without a glitch, and I had a tremendous feeling of accomplishment. Still, there were more activities to come, but this job builds your confidence immeasurably. Soon I was leading activities without a second thought. The next time I felt nerves as badly as I did on that pond dip was the following year, at Easter.

            It was the Easter egg hunt and I, as the new starter had to organise it, read the clues and lead it. The activity attracted about three hundred people, but like many things in life, doing it was not as bad as anticipating it. I did, at one point have to remind the parents that it was a children’s activity as some of them were getting a bit carried away.

             As the busiest time the summer was probably the most fun, as the tasks varied greatly. However, when the summer holidays were over and we could relax a little, there was a pleasant feeling of a job well done and the anticipation of a quieter time.

            Things didn’t stop in the winter though. This was the time to start mending those broken fences and cutting back those overgrown branches, so that the horse-riders could pass through the bridle path. Winter was also the time for planning and preparation for next year, a time of ideas for new activities. This was quite a strange process; like planning your evening meal, when you’ve just eaten your lunch. The activities had just finished, and yet we were looking at the following year. Planning a pond dip while the snow piled up outside was an odd sensation.

            But the plans had to be made, to encourage more visitors and ensure that they have a positive experience. As I see it, the job of the ranger is to look after the park and try to ensure that the visitors have a good time. Then they will leave with a feeling of ownership, and respect for the countryside that they can carry into other parts of their lives. This was always my intention and hope in my time as a ranger.

Art, Wit and Wildife

It started with a friend (a Facebook friend). She's quite an arty person and decided to create a group for all things arty. I was apparently to be in this group. The artiness commenced with a whimper rather than a bang. There was myself and another man exchanging pieces of art and commenting on them. One day I made a disparaging remark about modern art and got into an argument with an individual and was subsequently accused of being aggressive. Me? So I was to leave the group, but it had already happened. I had seen the most beautiful and unattainable woman ever. Unattainable because she was a goddess on a painting hundreds of years old. Here she is though, see what you think?

 

She's Venus, the goddess of love, as painted by Boticelli. Anyway I thought she was 'a bit smart'. It happened again though, and if you haven't heard of the Venus, I bet you've heard of the Girl with the Pearl earring. I don't have much luck on crushes, what with her living hundreds of years ago and in another country..

Enough  about my slightly insane crushes and onto the art that got me onto art before I saw either of those two pictures. Oh it's wonderful to meander about and have people wonder where I'm going. I'm sure everyone has heard of Escher, Dali, etc. Well there are some other, wonderful illusionists, who combine beautiful painting with impossibility and confusion. For example Rob Gonsalves paints the impossible and money from art, he does! The likes of U.S. Senators purchase his work. Good if you have the money

 

Painting is a big hobby, I even have a bash myself, to general consternation throughout the household. Being a big fan  of pastels means I'm a big producer of dust, that goes everywhere.. and it smudges. I'm thinking of going to coloured pencils for a while. A keep hearing about a 'white' pencil for burnishing the work, but I don't have a clue what  it is. The exclamation marks suggest that it isn't an ordinary white pencil. The inner child brings out the wax crayons from time to time and they do mix well with the pencil. I am no art expert though, so don't expect any great insights or painting tips, I can only really tell you what I've read, been told or found out, for that reason I would advise you that it is likely to be wildly inaccurate and possibly dangerous.

 

 But next time, before the summer is gone, we may play out and spend some time with a countryside ranger and a gathering of weird and wonderful happenings,and we may visit our defunct shop and mention our brand new magazine, but only if you're good.