Rule by ignorant busybodies
For many purposes, cadmium is banned in the EU. An exception has been made, repeatedly, for artists’ pigments because quantities are tiny (it’s hella expensive!) and the kind of cadmium used for colors doesn’t get into the human body that easily. The cadmiums are an important and pretty irreplaceable of light-fast series opaque reds, oranges and yellows (I use them only in the tiniest concentrations, but I’m not sure what I’d substitute).
Once again, they are considering applying the ban to colors, as well.
Not a big deal on its own, but of a piece with the EU Experience. I cannot tell you how nagged and nannied we have become. Just in the time I’ve been here — oh, the weed killers and pesticides and cleaning products that have been whisked off the shelves. Not on the advice of the experts, but by diktat of “ZOMG It’s A Chemical!” green ignoramuses in Belgium.
Beg pardon. I say Belgium. Richard North of EU Referendum makes a very good case that many of the most obnoxious impositions that we blame on the EU actually are imposed on the EU by the UN. North is a bit of a Mikey-Hates-Everything, but he does his homework.
Global governance via the UN. I know, I know. I see you over there reaching for your Reynold’s Wrap chapeau.
But if you don’t believe in a de facto, shadowy world government, lemme ask you a question: how y’all liking those twisty light bulbs?
July 7, 2014 — 10:20 pm
Comments: 20
I has a rocket!
I only bought the one because we were invited over to the neighbors’ for a Fourth of July cookout, and I didn’t think their livestock would appreciate fireworks.
We snuck home full of wine and burgers and let it off in the garden. It…wasn’t very good.
I paid £10 for this thing and it just went whizz-bang-fountain. For that kind of money, I thought sure it would spell out “God Bless America” and hum a few bars of Stars and Stripes Forever.
The best part was where we jammed the firing tube thingie into the soil, and Jack immediately rushed over and took a crap. Any time you disturb earth, Jack’ll plant one in it, quite uninhibitedly. We had to wait for him to fuss over his turd coverings before we could light the fuse. I didn’t want to remember this as The Day I Set Fire To The Cat.
Hope you had a jolly 4th!
July 4, 2014 — 10:34 pm
Comments: 20
Another village, another George
‘Tis the season for day trips.
The weather in England is surprisingly lovely surprisingly often, for something so bitched about. It’s incredibly temperate: seldom gets below freezing in Winter, almost never rises above 85° in Summer. The worst it throws at you is a season of gray or rain, but these aren’t endless, no matter how it feels. And rain maketh green.
At the moment, we’re having England at its best and have done for weeks. Sunny and seventies in the daytime, clear and fifties at night. So no matter how hot the sun, it’s always crisp and cool in the shade, with a light breeze. Whur I come from, we called this April, only we don’t get several months of it.
Today we took a long run over to beautiful Alfriston. The hymn “Morning has Broken” was written to honor Alfriston (probably). Love this place. All the shops are ancient, charming and woefully overpriced. The National Trust’s first acquisition is here (the Clergy House, closed today, dangit).
We had lunch in the George (above), first recorded changing hands in Thirteen-something. Then a stroll along the Cuckmere (the river Virginia Woolf drowned herself in). Then a drive back along the coast to…ummm…Tesco’s.
Hey, hey…weasel’s gotta eat.
July 3, 2014 — 11:10 pm
Comments: 11
I’m no sheep farmer…
…but I don’t think this ewe is going to make it.
One of our neighbors invited us over for a barbecue and a walk around his property. I’m pleased to report that this unhappy animal was part of the walk, not the cookout.
Tour also included a badger sett, but as that’s just a hole in the ground and not very interesting to look at with no badgers peeking out, I didn’t include it.
There’s also a big square raised thing that is the remains of some ancient work of man. He was told not to dig into it, so he hasn’t.
Brits are so blasé about their history. First fine night, I’d be out there with a smuggler’s lantern and a spoon.
July 2, 2014 — 10:21 pm
Comments: 11
Crop’s a-coming on
That big bad beautiful boy, believe it or don’t, is a Papaver somniferum. An opium poppy. A vividly pink one, They’re perfectly legal to grow here provided you don’t, Scout’s honor, milk them for latex.
We have it on good authority that there are times and places in Sussex when all the poppy seed-heads mysteriously vanish overnight. Generally villages with a high concentration of herbalists.
We have a couple of patches that bloom every year. The blooms are beautiful but short-lived. I mean, the petals fall off very quickly, not that trained herbalists tiptoe into our garden and steal our opium.
We also have a pair of mystery moon vines growing in Uncle B’s raised beds this year. We thought they were cukes, as we grow those and some are recycled through the compost bin and these looked similar. But the flowers, when they came, were enormous, and the things growing on them aren’t cukes.
Best guess, they’re marrows. I don’t know from marrows, but they look like fat spotty zucchinis. Thing is, neither of us has bought a marrow or a zucchini in our miserable lives, so how did they get in our soil?
I’m not big on gourds. Any serving suggestions?
July 1, 2014 — 10:42 pm
Comments: 30