Gleanliness is next to Godliness

I've taken next week off work. It's the first full week's holiday I've had since Christmas, and is well needed. Hopefully it won't stop me from regularly updating this blog.

I considered keeping a daily Holiday Journal like I did last summer, but decided against it. We're just staying at home this time, so don't have the benefit of unfamiliar surroundings to mask the mundanity.

At least in Sidmouth, if I had an anecdote about seeing a bird, or looking for a pen, I could create an air of intrigue by mentioning it had happened near a beach. Beaches make everything more exciting. If you're on the coast, you're literally living on the edge. 50% of all people who live in coastal towns end up drowned. It's the price you have to pay for so many ice-cream vendors.

In Oxford, we're about as far from the coast as it's possible to be. Far from the edge. If I drown, it would have to be down to my own carelessness (like searching for a coin in the toilet and getting stuck) or some kind of foul play.

But I'm glad I don't live on the edge. The security of my geographical life provides an anchor for me to explore the vast dimensions of consciousness and human potential. I live on the mental edge.

People who live in Poole (to take a notorious example) aren't free to think about the nature of life, or cosmology, or evolution. They're too busy preparing sandbags in case of a flood alert.

Whereas I'm allowed free reign. It's this freedom that allows me to do what I'm doing now: writing a blog entry, listening to The Rolling Stones, wearing no trousers, straining my eyes in a dimly-lit room (as I'm too lazy to replace one of the bulbs), and reaching important realisations.

It's a noble quest. I think Socrates did this kind of thing. He almost certainly wouldn't wear trousers.

So I suppose I should impart some wisdom that I've gleaned. I don't glean often, but when I do glean: I glean. Here's what I've learned today:

1) The Departed is a decent film, but not that great

2) Lucy's lasagne is top-notch

3) It's impossible to absolutely finish all the washing-up

That's it. A noble quest, as I said.

***

I wish could use those three asterisks in real life.

Whenever I was boring myself, or digging myself deeper into a conversational quagmire, I could just hold up three asterisks and we could all move on.

I'd have to do them simultaneously, or they'd think I was referencing a footnote. And I'd have to get a friend to stand at the end of the room with a corresponding asterisk, ready to fill them in on the extra information. He could be dressed as Asterix, just to add an extra layer of confusion to the whole affair.

***

I should probably stop now. This evening isn't going to waste itself!