keeping my feet above the mulch of the barton
I spent an hour trying to figure out what the hell the barton is. Still don't know, best guess is that it refers to a farm. It's from Tess of the d'Urbervilles and is quoted in Tyrolean Knockabout by HMHB.
"The dairymaids and men had flocked down from their cottages and out of the dairy-house with the arrival of the cows from the meads; the maids walking in pattens, not on account of the weather, but to keep their shoes above the mulch of the barton."
I agree/disagree with this: The age of horrorism by Martin Amis
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1868732,00.html
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1868743,00.html
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1868746,00.html
Been studying for ages today, words no longer reliably form syllables. I'm always awed by how tiring the simple act of reading can be. Its strange, insects and other organisms with small brains don't ever require sleep. They have periods of respite, but don't ever sleep. From my dilettante type reading on the subject, sleep provides the brain with a way to deal with and store all that we dealt with that day. When you wake up you lose an amount of knowledge that you had gained that day, this is inferred from the fact that linkages and (iirc) crenellations in the brain have been observed disappearing.
Tangent! In a nerdy type discussion of all things Dunederful Tom told me that when they examined Frank Herbert's brain, he had an astronomically crenellated brain. Physically evidence of how fucking smart he was. Been spending a lot of time over the past few days with Renee and her boyfriend Tom, basically when I'm not studying, I'm hanging out with them, generally Ronan and Helene are around as well. Familiarity breeds contempt, but last night Renee cooked dinner and we watched Green Wing. It's important to relax and not get stressed out over the upcoming ordeal, but I might be overdoing it. I am definitely having fried eel again.
For your edification, japanese oreos are even worse than normal oreos.
There could be a very crowded postcard in a nearby postbox sometime tomorrow. Slightly cryptic, but so you know in advance, I didn't cannibalize the book, someone returned a book to me with a page from it used as a bookmark.
Off home to study more there, in the hope the the walk, some noodles and a cup of tea mean I can focus on words again. Graphs too, its for research methods. Everyone fucking hates research methods (a cunning name for statistics).
"The dairymaids and men had flocked down from their cottages and out of the dairy-house with the arrival of the cows from the meads; the maids walking in pattens, not on account of the weather, but to keep their shoes above the mulch of the barton."
I agree/disagree with this: The age of horrorism by Martin Amis
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1868732,00.html
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1868743,00.html
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,1868746,00.html
Been studying for ages today, words no longer reliably form syllables. I'm always awed by how tiring the simple act of reading can be. Its strange, insects and other organisms with small brains don't ever require sleep. They have periods of respite, but don't ever sleep. From my dilettante type reading on the subject, sleep provides the brain with a way to deal with and store all that we dealt with that day. When you wake up you lose an amount of knowledge that you had gained that day, this is inferred from the fact that linkages and (iirc) crenellations in the brain have been observed disappearing.
Tangent! In a nerdy type discussion of all things Dunederful Tom told me that when they examined Frank Herbert's brain, he had an astronomically crenellated brain. Physically evidence of how fucking smart he was. Been spending a lot of time over the past few days with Renee and her boyfriend Tom, basically when I'm not studying, I'm hanging out with them, generally Ronan and Helene are around as well. Familiarity breeds contempt, but last night Renee cooked dinner and we watched Green Wing. It's important to relax and not get stressed out over the upcoming ordeal, but I might be overdoing it. I am definitely having fried eel again.
For your edification, japanese oreos are even worse than normal oreos.
There could be a very crowded postcard in a nearby postbox sometime tomorrow. Slightly cryptic, but so you know in advance, I didn't cannibalize the book, someone returned a book to me with a page from it used as a bookmark.
Off home to study more there, in the hope the the walk, some noodles and a cup of tea mean I can focus on words again. Graphs too, its for research methods. Everyone fucking hates research methods (a cunning name for statistics).