Assumptions and lessons to learn

Yep, you learn something each day, and probably lots of things.

I was listening to a Nate Hagens 'Frankly' episode (No 147) on Youtube recently titled, It's not what you think, mainly about assumptions we construct, and choices we make without leaving space to actually observe and consider. It, as with most of his work, really made me think, and made me set up a few resolutions about not jumping to conclusions based on what I think I know, or what I might assume.

Case in point: at the weekend we had a couple of B and B guests arrive from the site, Greengo. I'm keen to use Greengo more as their mission is to encourage ecological actions - as far as going on holiday can be ecological. 

I welcomed the couple in and the guy said where shall I park the car? I glanced through the gate at a monster car about three times the size of ours and with bronze alloy wheels, smoked glass, and . . . a sticker above the exhaust pipe reading 'Fuck you Greta'. For a second I thought he must have an evil aunt or other relative and then it dawned on me that it meant Greta Thunberg. And there was a second sticker on the back window of flipping the middle finger. Ok... French drivers can really hug one's boot so maybe fair enough but the F Y Greta sticker . . .

                                                           It wasn't quite this absurd . . .

So my mind went into assumption overdrive - he'll hate the B and B full of old recycled furniture and our carefully considered, friendly notices about going easy on the water for the environments sake (and our water bill which going to be scary this year), there's no air conditioning - they must be used to that with such a vehicle; what about the breakfast they'd ordered? Will they like the home made bread with bits in it, the odd but tasty plums I'd picked on the morning dog walk, the weird reclaimed tiles in the kitchenette, the old but clean shower, the strange flower containers made out of old baths, etc etc . . .

So, I showed them around and left them to have a rest before setting out again to the local rose festival in their massive car. I told Mark who was absent for a couple of days about the car and sticker, and he immediately thought all the same stuff. By the end of the day I'd even worked out my artistically ironic reply to the review that would be left by them on the site after their departure.

The next day I carefully laid out the breakfast (first time in our new B and B) to which they appeared delighted, commenting on how nice it was to have real home made bread and jams. Things seemed to be going well; I paced about a bit wondering if the lodgings would be left in a mess; they probably had cleaners, having a car like that . . .

So they left, polite and friendly as anything, said how much they'd enjoyed the stay and what a lovely place it was. I waved them off, suddenly glad I hadn't removed the sticker or scrawled Trump over Greta. 

But, the review. Maybe the truth would come out - pictures of the strange tap and sink arrangement, the spider and its family I'd forgotten to remove, the tasteless coffee, the dog next door that had barked once in the night, the heat . . .

Greengo site informed me there was a review waiting, once I had done mine - I hate this bit; it's all too much like that Black Mirror where everyone but everyone reviews each other constantly - err, bit like now really. I did my polite review of 5 stars, as they had merited it - quiet, respectful, tidy, and there was no  'absurd, pretentious car' category. I refreshed the page and there was my review: 5 star, glowing, friendly. They'd really loved our place, and me as a host.

                                                               Black mirror - Nosedive

I put the sticker to the back of my mind and thought about how different we all are, the experiences that shape us, our likes and dislikes, those of our parents and the sort of educations we have had. They were friendly and appreciative, just a little different to me in their opinions. And that's really ok.

 . . . Maybe they'd borrowed the car and actually drive a small electric Ford Fiesta. Probably not. 

                                Our B and B kitchenette with strange tap and sink arrangement.

                                        B and B https://lapenichesurlacolline.blogspot.com/

Impossible

to imagine . . .

-1 or so on a February day when all you can think about is not falling over on black ice, getting indoors to make a cup of hand-thawing tea and wondering how early one could light the wood stove.

I think this was the day I walked to the hospital -which only about a two minute normal walk - for a RDV which I didn't want to postpone. Think it took about twenty minutes with nordic walking poles, and many thoughts about what would get damaged if I did slip.

Today, 10/07/2026, I am sitting indoors with all the shutters closed having done the 5:30am dog walk/watering, bird baths sorted etc, and having walked into town for a meeting and catching an air-conditioned bus back. I'd like to go and sort the garage out but it's about 38 degrees in there. So, afternoon of painting, reading and B and B prep.

                              The reasonably cool kitchen/ temporary music/art studio

Free food, and adaptation

Many trees are struggling here this year with high temperatures and dry conditions but give a fig tree a shady wall to grow behind . . . and the results are incredible. Our neighbours ignore these gems but me, the starlings and blackbirds are delighted that they do. 

Just back from a dog walk and I've added to my mental fruit map a line of plum trees, pears and blackberries but I think the latter will not be very productive this year apart from the ones with their feet down into a source somewhere. 

Having lived here for a year and almost a half now I'm beginning to note what will grow and where, or rather what won't grow in places we assumed they would. So, next year, more hardy herbs such as rosemary, thyme, and sage. More apricot, peach trees, and olives; less apples! Rampent 'trumpet' vines, fruit vines, anything with greyish leaves, ornamental grasses - used to dislike these but they are sturdy as hell and will be featuring more in the top garden.

The 'bath' beds work very well, even in very sun-exposed spots, with their wooden box surrounds the heat stays out and water stays in. Someone donated us a super ugly white plastic one recently with odd raised areas but we'll make it work with some recycled bamboo cane or planks, and I'm on the lookout for more as chillies and, oddly, cucumbers seem to like the bath environment even in full sun.

Ok, off to water the strawberries, which I forgot last night.

Needs must art creation

So, it was edging towards 40 degrees and I was preparing our B and B room to then discover that our vintage Calor fan was making not-conducive-to-sleep grinding noises. too late to trawl the second hand sites for a more tranquil model; it would have to be a SHOP. And of course, it's a canicule (full on heat wave) and there were no fans to be had, anywhere. Friends were of course using theirs, and my tiny 1950s one is really only good for cooling the area of an elbow. 

I hunted about, thinking we had hidden away a metal cage variety but then remembered its incurable rattling sound which had finally sent it back to the recycling emporium. During a previous heatwave, our cousin had left us with, amongst many lovely presents - such is their generosity - a small fan from afore mentioned emporium. A small fan with no 'leg' to stand it on. It would be better than nothing if a support could be found. A sally forth into the furnace-garage procured a lidless metal teapot, a chisel and some rags. The teapot was a good heavy base, the chisel fitted the fan's head, and with the application of black paint, well, it works and I rather like it as a piece of desperation-art.

Somewhere, and I know I have featured this before, we have a beautiful little book of Russian desperation-art; hand crafted multi objects for domestic usage - TV ariels made of forks and coat hangers, a doormat made from beer bottle tops, and many other ingenious objects using whatever could be found. Think my fan could have had its place in the book.

Later a friend came back to me and said she had a spare fan, so our guests will have something a little more normal, and powerful, and the art-fan is now in residence on this desk where I write.

In a parallel universe . . .

So, today at Coyote Daily we are so very lucky to be speaking to the world's very first trillionaire! Mr Pylon Rusk. 

'Mr Rusk. Thank you very much for being able to spare the time to talk to us; I'm sure you must have at least a million things to be doing at this and every minute.'

'It's an absolute pleasure to be interviewed by your excellent environmental team at Coyote. Yes, it's true I am busy, but time must be taken to spread the word of how everyone can help preserve our magnificent planet with all its wonderful peoples, birds, insects, mammals - sigh. What a place! Why would anyone have such a crazed idea of living somewhere as inhospitable as the red sphere of Fartz. I have heard that certain folks are thinking of sending a space vessel there - what an absolute waste of our precious resources, if we should even call them resources, hm? I mean who are we to plunder this planet when it is for everyone and all creatures.'

'Indeed. You are so right. And this is obviously why you have had such incredible success - your benevolence to all beings, your insight into the natural world; the fact that so many ultra wealthy persons have dug deep into their own bank accounts, even cancelling orders for new mega-yurts, giving the money to Rusk Enterprises for it to be used in education, the arts, organic seed banks, and your latest program: Land-X, providing help millions of peasant farmers across the world improve their crop yields with lost techniques of irrigation, natural soil improvement and encouraging biodiversity balance.'

'It's what I always dreamed of, my friend. To be able to help everyone, not just the farmers in our country, but all peoples, and to learn from them too.' Shakes head slowly as a single tear rolls down a cheek. We always have so much to learn.' Sniff.'

Presenter hands over (clean) tissue. 'Would it be all right to ask the few questions we had prepared now?'

'Yes . . . yes. Sorry, please go ahead. I just get a little emotional sometimes when I think of how incredibly lucky we all are to exist on this one perfect sphere - did you know that all scientists now agree that The Earth is the only planet in any galaxy to have just the right balance of all atmospheric elements to support life? I mean what are the chances of this - this microscopic fluke that allowed us and all other lifeforms to develop here . . . and to think if the wrong people had been in control it could have all been so utterly trashed, burned and wasted . . .'

Reporter delves for another tissue, blows nose, stuffs tissue back in pocket and nods enthusiastically. 'Yes. You are so right, Mr Rusk.' Imagine if Sir David Atomburger, or that upstart, Feta Thumburger had your influence and monetary power! The damage that could have been reeked!

'So, my first question does have to be who makes your magnificent clothes. We so love the tweed suits and homburg hats.'

'Ah! a subject close to my heart. The tweed is manufactured on the isle of Davies - it was a dying industry but with my teams help we have managed to re-start production, using all the original techniques and encouraging the workforce to sing the much-loved dipping of wool in sheep urine procedure songs. The fact that I wear the products has endorsed the industry and we are able to plough back ninety percent of the turnover into the island and its people.'

 (Shelby bros suit)

'Fantastic!' And the hats?'

'Second hand, my friend, from the Blue Triangle and other charitable outlets, sometimes Veentread. I must admit to having a small obsession with second hand . . . one has to have a vice, hm?'

'Of course. And our listeners most popular question - what was it like visiting our glorious president in the egg-shaped office?'

'A day to store in the memories . . . what a guy! Such generosity. D'you know, he wanted to promote my new range of solar powered tricycles on the front lawn! Even bought one for his wife, Melancholia. She loves it!'

'How did he cope with the kids? It all looked pretty harmonious from where we were filming.'

'Great! he was so interested in our fostering success. I bought all twenty six of them with me, and he gave them all wonderful hand crafted wooden toys that his Son in-Law, Jarhead makes in his artisan workshop that he shares with other members of the family. They do so much for the environment. You know they have just donated six billion dollars to desert greening in the Sudan - incredible.'

'And not to mention all that work for protecting the Barrier Reef. Just amazing.'

A tinkling ringing sound starts up in the waistcoat of Mr Rusk. He slips a hand into the pocket and draws out a polished silver watch on a chain. 

'Oh. I'm so sorry. Unfortunately I do have to be leaving you. We have a conference call on the subject of the water bird rehabilitation zone on the old Cherbobble nuclear site. Land-X has pledged over three million as it's such a crucial place for wildlife - which is returning! Hurrah! Can you imagine how crazy people must have been to ever have let such an utter disaster take place! Lucky for us we have our no-forever squabblings, and mutually assured happiness president, Hm?' He places an envelope on the studio desk, 'A little gift of my appreciation for the marvellous environmental and anti-racist work you do at Coyote Daily. So long.'

Mr Rusk strides to the studio door while the Coyote host opens the envelope and sobs. He shows it to the camera which zooms in, his voice recounting the contents. 'Two million dollars for our latest project, Make M'erca multicultural again. This is just too much, what a guy . . .' He smiles shakily, straightens his rainbow tie and waves to the camera. Thanks guys for tuning in. Tomorrow, we welcome Seth Bathos to hear all about his superb new project from Copse: next month - possibly- delivery and the rebirth of ecologic donkey transport. 

What we should be teaching in schools, and at all education levels

It all needs a huge shake up, from infants school through to universities, business schools, all of it, and fast! 

I've posted Nate Hagen's work and excellent podcasts several times on this blog and the fact I get thousands of hits a day - probably mainly from AI scooping up all my words and images, may hopefully plug some vital info into the net.

Everything his guest says make 100% utter sense, exploring how through, at often a very local level, we can still make change to our planet's trajectory towards inhospitality for us and for all other lifeforms that share this sphere. 

Our small strip garden is now full of trees and shrubs, much to the horror of our leaf-blower - and all other garden electrical gadgets - neighbour. We have two ponds, both fascinating little microcosms of insect and amphibian life, and have left weeds to bloom this year encouraging more birds and insects.

They cost little to set up and after the initial plants, virtually no maintenance - no pump needed, just let it become its own little world. So many people look doubtful saying mosquitos will be a problem but if you let the ecosystem do its thing the predators feast on them, plus any that are about are vital food for bats, etc. And . . . kids are fascinated by frogs, fish and insects - if they are allowed to be fascinated.

Right, into the garden to plant veg in a high wind.

Please share this amazingly useful video and other work by Nate. He is one of the reason's to celebrate the original aims of the Web. 

Off line dating

Being a sentimental soul, especially around wildlife, I have been observing the behaviour of a solitary male house sparrow for a couple of weeks now. Having found his perfect nest spot in the wall of the tower that stands in our neighbour's garden, the bird stands/sits on a useful twig of dead wisteria just outside the nest entrance and advertises himself and the perfect patch of real estate non-stop. Ridiculous, but I feel sad for him. It looks like the ideal spot - sheltered, lots of wild grains and insects about, bird bath and ponds . . . no cats, quiet. I suppose he doesn't wake each morning and think, oh no, not all that cheeping again and standing mostly still on a twig for twelve hours, or, it's so not fair, all the other dudes have found someone.

I'd like to help, but short of netting a female and depositing her on the cill of the nest - which would no doubt not be in any way a good idea, and somewhat difficult, I'll just carry on calling out a daily greeting or two and send out a few hopeful vibes to him on his eternal mission.

   The tower, perfect nest building spot

Apparently the construction was a windmill for grinding acorns for tannin 

The only one on our road where 32 flour windmills once stood