|Underworld, Stevie on Satan's love child|
Got home, at two in the morning, checked out my garden, the flowers and the veggies, a barn owl checked me out, on its way to terrorise mice. It was raining, and it felt good on my dried up skin after ten weeks in Malta. I breathed in the mountain air, listened to the complete silence, went in the house and hung a few holds on my fingerboard. Not bad I thought, zee finger strength is high, zee life force seems strong, I cranked out a few pull-ups and bumped by thick skull on zee ceiling. I took a turn in the back garden with my cats; they wanted to show me something important, a big dead bird! They took turns rubbing against, me and a big barbell which was quietly rusting away. I absently picked it up thinking I’d curl it easily, and got a shock; I had to use a lotta body English to get it up. So, notso good, score low on zee bicep curl.
|Satan on Stevie's love child|
I lay next to my friend and tried to get to sleep and did my version of counting sheep, I went thru the moves on the last route I couldn’t do. No good, sleep evaded me, and so I decided to go thru bits of a tough 100 mile race I will most likely fail on. Well that worked. ZZZZZZed
In the morning I checked out my blog, as Laurence has been sorting it out, while I had my climbing sabbatical going on. Lots of nice stuff like the photo of the wave that probably broke the Azure window arch on Gozo. The blog can get very heavy traffic, so thanks you’all, hope you appreciate the hard work that sometimes goes on.
|Rael and Jeff|
The blog is a weird thing, but it has been nice seeing the photos of the Underworld cliff, and the odd photo has brought a little memory flicking back thru the rusty brain. There’s a photo of Rael half asleep, and Jeff wanting to climb that I remember taking, Rael was working weird night shifts, but was still coming out, Jeff and Rael were doing Super Furry and Vampire Lats that day, and I was taking a run on Satan’s Love Child, verily it was a good day, a climbing day, the fellowship of the cave.
When you hit my advanced years you can become a bit grumpy, when you are just intelligent enough to know that the world is fucked, but too stupid and powerless to help, you can get a bit sad, if you dwell on those things beware, its time to discover a cliff and get overhung, it’s the cure, its Paradise, its Odins Hall.
I used to take chances, sometimes big ones, and on the last climbing trip I did a bit of that, and it was very good, hanging off your finger tips, just friction between you and your life blipping out. It was nice. Life is not sacred, it’s the way that you live life that can be sacred.
So what is life like outside my private vision? Television seems to be full of big cleavages and buttox lips and discussion programs about silly things. This was Italian TV between Vaginal cream and verruca cream adverts, some political corruption and lots of hysteria about an absurd ball game played by young men who seem over-fond of each other. Maltese TV was the same minus the vaginal cream adverts. I watched a test card thingy which reported humidity and temperature and most importantly wind and sea conditions. There were no reports on how much pollution it takes to seriously make you ill and how much toxin is getting into our food! Cigarettes were on sale everywhere, despite killing more people than Kadhafi, Hussein, Bin Laden, and the American government put together!!! There you go stick that in your crack pipe and smoke it.