Radish seeds

Saving a few pennies by collecting radish seeds from the dried pods.

Desert Island Eavis

Michael Eavis on Desert Island Discs. Priceless. Why doesn't the man have a knighthood ? Or would he refuse ?

Happy memories of having a chat with him in his garden at the farmhouse circa 1985. Desert Island Discs

Rocket

Still harvesting kale and chard twice a week and now the first of the leeks and rocket.

Survivors

Some startling similarities between the new version of Survivors (BBC1) and the series that I followed in the mid 70s. The Volvo and the hanged 'looter' in the supermarket for starters. I was hoping that humanity might have evolved a tad in three decades and gone straight for the garden centres to stock up on seeds and fertiliser, then headed out to a farm and sorted out a horse and a cow or two. Instead, we get petrol wars and the battle for Tesco Metro.

Actually, the farms could get a bit nasty too, cows are a bit cumbersome and I'm no John Wayne. I'd probably head for the coast, or an island, like Heath Bunting and his chums, whose plans for escaping to The Isle Of Skye in such an event are documented here. http://duo.irational.org/siper/

If I remember correctly, it took them a few series of Survivors in the 70s to get their collective farms sorted out, but then it all petered out and nobody wanted to watch hippies arguing over crop rotation methods. Still, they didn't have the (literally) underground renaissance command centre, which we got a glimpse of the other night, (or am I mixing it up with Spooks?) showing that although humanity might not have evolved much in 30 years, governments have.

Music links

Came across a gargantuan, fully comprehensive list of music related links at mshipproductions which seems to operate out of a Dutch canal boat. It's all there; psycho acoustics, therapies, resources, software, samples, tutorials, articles - I ended up listening to David Byrne & Brian Eno chatting in a cafe about the future of music.

The Big Wheel

Not to be attempted after a chocolate muffin.



I like the juxtaposition.

Broad Beans

Planted out a dozen early Aquadulce broad beans.

Hydroelectric Power Station Site

This stream in Eastville Park is much too nice a spot to leave unspoiled. Toxic waste dump ? Hydroelectric power station ? Children as young as two have been spotted slyly creating dams, in what must surely be the initial consultancy phase of some heinous development, utilising the spare capacity of workshy youngsters.

Watch this space.

Whoops !

My superpowers have got me into trouble again. There I was last week, taking an innocent (OK, strictly illegal) cycle through Eastville Park, eulogising about the autumnal trees, flippantly remarking that I'd probably put the curse on them, following the debarkle with the ash tree which I photographed on the cyclepath, just days before it was unexpectedly felled, then this happens, 200 metres away.....





It all seems a bit pointless and is shoddy work too, though at least there should be enough wood for my crucifixion.



"It's happening, Reg. Something's actually happening, Reg. Can't you understand?"

Eastville Park

Now that I've been warned off campaigning to save trees by Indymedia contributors, the Easton Popular Front, the Popular Front of Easton, the Easton People's Front, the People's Front of Easton, Chris Hutt and other proper environmental campaigners much cleverer and more correct than me, I thought I'd photograph and put the curse on the trees by Eastville Park Lake, which even now, I fear, have been singled out, flagged up and surveyed by expert arboreal professors, no doubt assessing their potential threat to moorhens, seen acting nervously nearby.

Studland

Bankes Arms

Parasol Mushroom

Spotted in the field opposite the Manor House Hotel.

As I took it home, passing a couple of members of staff standing by the entrance, I pointed to it, saying, "Breakfast".
"Magic !", came the reply.

Sir Bill Cotton

A managing director of the BBC and son of the big band leader Billy Cotton, who lived in nearby Sandbanks at the same time as my grandfather and Marconi, Sir Bill Cotton, who lived in the last house on the hill out of Studland up to Ballard Down, known as The Glebe, died this summer and is buried here in the graveyard of St. Nicholas church. My Mum confirmed what all the obituaries had said, in that he was a jolly nice chap. She went on to explain that they have to wait for the ground to settle before placing a headstone at the grave.