Virtuous Cycles

The last two days at work have been deathly boring, and I have to admit it’s been getting me pretty down. The project is at one of those post-coital points where last week we all rushed to get something done, and now there will be a quiet spell probably lasting all the way through to the end of August. August is always quiet on these sort of things, but this is much worse, since almost our entire Spanish contingent will disappear for almost all of the month. And more power to them.
Anyway, because of that and a couple of other things, I was feeling a bit down when I got in from work, and was very tempted to phone for a pizza and burst open season one of The Rockford Files (thanks Bill).
But Merlin gave me that “I haven’t been walked since a week ago last Thursday” look, and, since I was feeling too lazy to walk I dragged out my bike and headed up along the Kelvin Walkway. I’d planned to do my usual walk route – the half mile to the Ha’penny Bridge and back – but when I got to the bridge Merlin was bounding ahead, so I crossed over, and we went on up to the aqueduct where the Forth and Clyde Canal crosses the Kelvin, and stopped to say hello to the blue crane (or heron. I’m a bit weak on birds. It wasn’t a flamingo though. Almost certainly not). Well, it’s almost as far to turn back at that point as to climb up to the canal, so we did. Looping back that way makes it about a 5 mile cycle – easy for me, and not too taxing for Merlin. By mile three or so I was surprising myself by laughing out loud, and even bursting into an Undertones cover (“Here Comes the Summer” if you care). Round the next bend I passed a pair of swans, ushering their two ugly ducklings across the canal (we gave them a wide berth – they can puncture your wheel with one flap of their wings, you know) but they made me smile again, along with the water lilies and, a little further along, another crane/heron/flamingo/seagull flew over. By this time Merlin was looking a little tired, so we dawdled back down to the flat, dodging traffic and pedestrians, and I poured him a big bowl of water.
Instead of phoning for a pizza, I’ve got fish cakes in the oven, and some spring rolls.
I’ve opened a bottle of Alsace, though, and Jimmy and I will still be cleaning up LA for $200 a day plus expenses later, but I’m a lot happier.
I’m always amazed that simple things can generate so much serotonin – now let’s see if I can go for a run with Merlin tomorrow

I Shake the Hand that Shook the Hand that Shook The World. Sort of.

Or politics Scotland style. I was at The Fort in Easterhouse today for lunch with my friend Paul, a typical mall that's been dropped on Easterhouse in an attempt to hit some poverty (not a terribly hard thing to do). I'd forgotten that Easterhouse was in the Glasgow East constituency until I spotted a gaggle of campaigners, and realised that Scotland's First Minister was dropping sound-bites to the media scrum (quite a small scrum).
I had a wee chat with the campaign manager (we had a friend in common) while Paul studied Alec Salmond's back with Terrible Purpose. I liked the campaign manager a lot, and we shared a bit of gossip, then Scotland's First Minister (our Prime Minister) turned away from the press, and Paul leaped forward. He grabbed Mr Salmond's shoulder from behind, shouting "Alec! Alec!", told him he wanted to shake his hand, and commended him on doing a good job.
Alec thanked him, and we wandered off. With an SNP balloon.
It was only when I was sitting in Paul's car that I realised that no one had thrown him to the ground, cuffed him, and either unloaded a cap in our ass or taken us to a very private prison.
I do like living in Scotland.