Today I'm angry, and so because I have the means at hand, this blog, I'm going to rant and rave, and hopefully by the end somebody out there will have read this and at least taken the time to understand why I should feel the need to blow my top.
I'm fortunate in that I've ended up doing a thing that is a 'vocation' in life. As a teacher, teaching English to foreign students, mostly adults, adults and young people learning MY LANGUAGE, I'm following a path I never knew I would set out on. I'll never become rich, and there are times I've personally suffered as a result of my vocation in life. Yet I still believe in my vocation, because above all it allows me to return to others a solid means which enables them to progress in their lives, whichever direction they will choose to go eventually. To watch a student progress, regardless of their ability to learn, is to watch a tender bud flower. But the greatest joy for me is knowing that I was a tiny part of that wonderful growth, that I contributed in a selfless and meaningful way.
There will be many of you sitting and reading this, earning a decent salary, doing the things you want, when you want. You will have a comfortable life, and you may also not want to read what follows, but I AM ANGRY! I'm angry because even in this 21st century world, a world reduced to a global village due to the Internet and its vast array of communication forms, I last night (Monday) sat for 2 hours with a potential student from the Ukraine. This delightful individual, a mother with a seven year old son, had contacted me to help her develop her English skills, so she can progress in life, so she can make a better life for herself and son.
Eventually we discussed the price of my lessons, my price depends on the number of lessons taken, with a good discount for two or more lessons per week. The lady in question has a responsible position in life, with a degree in economics, divorced and earns a salary of $150 per month; I have checked this and it is correct according to the information I found on the web. Yes, a salary of $150 per month to live on and support her son. This I find completely outrageous, as she needs English for her employment responsibilities, and she gets no help from her employer. Towards the end of our discussions she was in tears because the key to her future success, she believed, was slipping away.
I will do everything I personally can to help her because I passionately believe that no-one should be denied access to learning something that makes the individual grow and prosper. As I grew up my attitudes hardened towards education because of the discrimination I personally suffered due to my 'lack of academic' ability, and I'm talking of the British education system which was willing to consign me to a life of sweeping factory floors; I'm not joking. A sense of learning is the greatest gift we give the individual, but all too often that curiosity and desire to learn is corrupted by both education and money. No individual should be denied the opportunity to learn.
I dare say, and I've already acknowledged this, that I'll die poor. I have no difficulty with this, and accept it because I refuse to be a part of a world that values money above all else. I accept I cannot change the world, but I can help a few individuals along the way. What are you willing to do to help make the world a much fairer and better place to live in?
An individual stroll through life, often taking an amusing view, or sometimes a little more serious one, depending on the mood.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Where to find my novels, in case you couldn't find them!
Dear readers of this wondrous blog, for an author of a 1st time novel it's a gruelling matter doing things like marketing; especially when you know absolutely nothing about such strange practices. This is even more ridiculous when the novel is out there floating around in cyberspace without a bookshelf to call home. Having spent many a long hour, day, month and endless years slaving over this little tome, it's finally down to you, my public to play your part in making the 'BIG DREAM' come true!
To help matters along, and in celebration of publishing my second novel, 'Danny's Navel Adventure' below there's a list of sites where you can either buy, or get a free sample' YES A FREE SAMPLE, of 'Nick and Jenny'!
Now, before anyone asks 'Nick and Jenny' can be bought for less than a cup of coffee, so there's no excuse for not actively supporting the arts! If nothing else I've learned is that for a dream to come true you need support. One way is to spend a few bucks, pass on the news to friends etc and make it happen much quicker than otherwise might be the case.
So before we go any further, THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO'S ALREADY HELPING TO MAKE MY DREAM COME TRUE - IT'S REALLY APPRECIATED.
However, check out this site for a FREE ebook management system for keeping your ebook library organised and all your ebooks in one place. Calibre
Stores Where My Book Can be Bought
Smashwords
'Nick and Jenny' here
'Danny's Navel Adventure' here
At the moment only 'Nick and Jenny' can be bought at the following sites, click on the link to take you there.
Apple
USA
Germany
UK
France
Barnes and Noble - USA
Sony Bookstore - Worldwide
My new comedy 'Danny's Navel Adventure' will be available in the above stores in the future once it's been accepted for inclusion in the Smashwords Premium Catalogue.
THANKS and HAPPY READING!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
There's a song in my heart!
Life continues unabated, I love words that sound good, and without much in the way of disturbance, which on a grand scale of 1-10 would mean my life is teetering on the brink of a glass of milk. Still, the past weekend saw the entire weekend given over to 'Bardentreffen' a free music festival in the old town centre. Every man and his dog seemed to be in town for the musical shindig, I only there for the filming and not much else.
It's not that I don't like live music, one has to learn to appreciate the finer things in life, but when you're trying to sleep and God's rock band is playing immediately around the corner from you, it doesn't take much imagination to realise why you fell out with God in the first place. And I'm not joking either. Just around the corner from me there's a little courtyard, or passageway, where you can just about herd together 50 disciples and a rock band. The courtyard is the back exit for the local offices of some religious order or other; not the Scientology lot due to Germany banning them for being somekind of weird cult, I've no idea if they are weird, strange possibly, weird dunno. Of course, one of the joys, I'm led to believe, is that all religions like to make the occasional song and dance either in defence of their right to exist, or in celebration that they still do exist. But the use of 6,000 watt amplifers, throbbing woofers and tweeters and enough bass to give any tenor constipation for a month of Sundays isn't the best way to celebrate His or Her Worshipfulness.
This was all compounded by having Hermann & the Munsters up the back passage, whilst the singer across the way on another stage belted out his version of Irish Bluegrass, and no doubt having an odd draw here and there, launching a frontal attack. This particular singer was definitely weird in his choice of songs. When I first heard him he was cranking out a blues number, which I have to admit was perfectly passable, followed by an Irish folksong. It did remind me of those awful karaoke nights I've never been too, but seen all too often on the telly when I had one. I do give anyone due respect for having the audacity and gumption to willingly inflict themselves on the non-paying public, but what I do find particularly unforgivable is the god awful ringing in my bloody ears for the last three days!
By Sunday afternoon I'd decided enough was enough and stayed in, happily missing the final day of the festival. I say happily in the sense that based on what I'd heard on Friday and Saturday, time was much better spent avoiding the last of Germany's got talent roadshow. However, the end of the festival is always a sad moment, not because the sound of music has disappeared up its own alpine crevice, but because it's the signal that in five short months the Xmas market will be back. Now that is truly depressing!
It's not that I don't like live music, one has to learn to appreciate the finer things in life, but when you're trying to sleep and God's rock band is playing immediately around the corner from you, it doesn't take much imagination to realise why you fell out with God in the first place. And I'm not joking either. Just around the corner from me there's a little courtyard, or passageway, where you can just about herd together 50 disciples and a rock band. The courtyard is the back exit for the local offices of some religious order or other; not the Scientology lot due to Germany banning them for being somekind of weird cult, I've no idea if they are weird, strange possibly, weird dunno. Of course, one of the joys, I'm led to believe, is that all religions like to make the occasional song and dance either in defence of their right to exist, or in celebration that they still do exist. But the use of 6,000 watt amplifers, throbbing woofers and tweeters and enough bass to give any tenor constipation for a month of Sundays isn't the best way to celebrate His or Her Worshipfulness.
This was all compounded by having Hermann & the Munsters up the back passage, whilst the singer across the way on another stage belted out his version of Irish Bluegrass, and no doubt having an odd draw here and there, launching a frontal attack. This particular singer was definitely weird in his choice of songs. When I first heard him he was cranking out a blues number, which I have to admit was perfectly passable, followed by an Irish folksong. It did remind me of those awful karaoke nights I've never been too, but seen all too often on the telly when I had one. I do give anyone due respect for having the audacity and gumption to willingly inflict themselves on the non-paying public, but what I do find particularly unforgivable is the god awful ringing in my bloody ears for the last three days!
By Sunday afternoon I'd decided enough was enough and stayed in, happily missing the final day of the festival. I say happily in the sense that based on what I'd heard on Friday and Saturday, time was much better spent avoiding the last of Germany's got talent roadshow. However, the end of the festival is always a sad moment, not because the sound of music has disappeared up its own alpine crevice, but because it's the signal that in five short months the Xmas market will be back. Now that is truly depressing!
Monday, July 19, 2010
The baby chucking its dummy out of the pram!
I'm aware that starting out with 'I've not been well recently' is almost certainly going to get the same response as a gaggle of geese bumping into a maniac pointing two nasty looking shotgun barrels at them. But what the hell, life's not life without being overly male and wanting a cuddle as I suck my thumb, whilst feeling enormously sorry for myself.
But of more importance the World Cup has finally died an undignified death and for the first time ever I managed to go an entire WC without seeing a single ball being kicked, which has been enormously satisfying, particularly during the final ten days or so when I was beside myself with rage. I just found it so utterly, utterly, obscene that the stupid football was being played whilst close to the stadiums children were dying from starvation, poverty and a lack of the most basic healthcare. I have to say the devil got the better of me and I protested vehemently, posting some youtube videos on my social networking page, the videos weren't intended to please anyone, and if nothing else did kick up a bit of a fuss in one particular quarter, who complained I'd gone too far.
The weather's been a bit too much lately and the constant heat isn't exactly helping the temper any. Of course drinking ice cold frappes is helping, bringing with it fond memories of summers spent in Greece where I lived for four years, the bad bits seem to be somewhat hazy and I'm sort of thankful for that. The strange thing is that the fondest memories are of the 10pm dinners along the sea front, lazily sipping ouzo and eating meze. I do so miss the joys of eating octopus and kalimari, soaking up the juices with chunks of fresh bread. But you move on in life, don't you?
I know this is a bit of a wobbly blog, with me as the baby chucking its dummy out of the pram. Having written this I now understand why the Australians called the English 'whinging poms'. But you can't help but love 'em for all that!
But of more importance the World Cup has finally died an undignified death and for the first time ever I managed to go an entire WC without seeing a single ball being kicked, which has been enormously satisfying, particularly during the final ten days or so when I was beside myself with rage. I just found it so utterly, utterly, obscene that the stupid football was being played whilst close to the stadiums children were dying from starvation, poverty and a lack of the most basic healthcare. I have to say the devil got the better of me and I protested vehemently, posting some youtube videos on my social networking page, the videos weren't intended to please anyone, and if nothing else did kick up a bit of a fuss in one particular quarter, who complained I'd gone too far.
The weather's been a bit too much lately and the constant heat isn't exactly helping the temper any. Of course drinking ice cold frappes is helping, bringing with it fond memories of summers spent in Greece where I lived for four years, the bad bits seem to be somewhat hazy and I'm sort of thankful for that. The strange thing is that the fondest memories are of the 10pm dinners along the sea front, lazily sipping ouzo and eating meze. I do so miss the joys of eating octopus and kalimari, soaking up the juices with chunks of fresh bread. But you move on in life, don't you?
I know this is a bit of a wobbly blog, with me as the baby chucking its dummy out of the pram. Having written this I now understand why the Australians called the English 'whinging poms'. But you can't help but love 'em for all that!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
The wonderful wisdom of youth!
I know I haven't written anything lately, and writing this I wonder if I'll get to the end to finish it; or if I do, how much time it's taken to write a few paragraphs. Of course, Mad T has been sort of busy this past week or so, job hunting, but time has largely been involved with the joys of technology. This is one area I willing confess to being a complete idiot, and my admiration for the mass of young individuals out there knows no bounds in their individual search for technological glory and immortality.
Of course it would be very self-defeating in my own creative quest to completely ignore the undoubted 'wisdom' of young aficionados of the MacWorld, they, after all they clearly love their passion and dedication for their love of Macs and software. And as I've sat through endless Youtube videos, increasing my own particular knowledge, I can't help but admire their enthusiasm and devil may care attitude. Yes, I've learnt much and will continue to do so, and the most I've learnt is that their determination to be 'heard' is wonderfully refreshing, no matter the doubts about their teaching style, their occasional impatience and their, sometimes, expectation you're on the same planet as they are.
But the one thing that is wonderfully engaging is their refusal to stick to the norm, to take you through a particular subject sticking to the manual. Watching them is akin to watching the 'rebel' finding the quickest solution to a problem posed, and totally ignoring the 'wisdom of their elders'. This is no doubt fuelled by their desire to 'get on with it', having little fear of the consequences, and in the end showing that experience isn't the only crutch we should lean on.
As I'm a 'newbie' to the world of the Mac and its software, my starting point is Apple's tutorials on this or that, but they don't answer every question. In many ways they are curtailed by their inability to do any more than give the essential basics, which tends to restrict the amount of knowledge they can pass on. And if you watch an Apple tutorial they stick to the point, slavishly follow the manual and leave you only a little more wiser than when you started. No, I'm not being critical of Apple, they do what they do well, supported by a vast knowledge base but I can't help wonder if they couldn't do somethings better.
So, as I'm now embarked on a very steep learning curve the one thing I appreciate more than anything is the shortcut to an answer. Those shortcuts, the very lifeblood of all learning, will get me there much quicker to where I want to be. And if there is one moral to this blog, it's that we should pay far more attention to the minds and wisdom of the young; it's one thing showing grandma how to suck eggs, it's another showing grandma how to do it with more enthusiasm and passion.
Of course it would be very self-defeating in my own creative quest to completely ignore the undoubted 'wisdom' of young aficionados of the MacWorld, they, after all they clearly love their passion and dedication for their love of Macs and software. And as I've sat through endless Youtube videos, increasing my own particular knowledge, I can't help but admire their enthusiasm and devil may care attitude. Yes, I've learnt much and will continue to do so, and the most I've learnt is that their determination to be 'heard' is wonderfully refreshing, no matter the doubts about their teaching style, their occasional impatience and their, sometimes, expectation you're on the same planet as they are.
But the one thing that is wonderfully engaging is their refusal to stick to the norm, to take you through a particular subject sticking to the manual. Watching them is akin to watching the 'rebel' finding the quickest solution to a problem posed, and totally ignoring the 'wisdom of their elders'. This is no doubt fuelled by their desire to 'get on with it', having little fear of the consequences, and in the end showing that experience isn't the only crutch we should lean on.
As I'm a 'newbie' to the world of the Mac and its software, my starting point is Apple's tutorials on this or that, but they don't answer every question. In many ways they are curtailed by their inability to do any more than give the essential basics, which tends to restrict the amount of knowledge they can pass on. And if you watch an Apple tutorial they stick to the point, slavishly follow the manual and leave you only a little more wiser than when you started. No, I'm not being critical of Apple, they do what they do well, supported by a vast knowledge base but I can't help wonder if they couldn't do somethings better.
So, as I'm now embarked on a very steep learning curve the one thing I appreciate more than anything is the shortcut to an answer. Those shortcuts, the very lifeblood of all learning, will get me there much quicker to where I want to be. And if there is one moral to this blog, it's that we should pay far more attention to the minds and wisdom of the young; it's one thing showing grandma how to suck eggs, it's another showing grandma how to do it with more enthusiasm and passion.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
The sun...caterpillars....and the need to read instruction manuals.
I finally managed to escape the padded cell on Monday, released from the conversations of the four walls surrounding me. I know that sounds as if I'm going slightly mad, but after being cooped up in the hovel for days on end, unable to do some filming due to the sun having gone on strike, or holiday, for about ten long days, then you shouldn't be that surprised by my reaction.
Yes, it's late spring and you can't help wonder if it's just the winter being extended because Mother Nature has decided she has a sense of humour. A warped sense of humour I might add. Of course the lack of sun and warm weather might well be the result of global warming, and whilst the proponents might have a point I also tend to think that the strange behaviour of the weather is perfectly normal. No matter how easy it is to pin the blame on the human race for its disgraceful abuse of the environment and natural resources, the Earth's history has been dominated by extremes of weather change; perhaps this is just another.
But back to the 'great escape'. One of the things my city is blessed with is a river running through its centre, and plenty of parks through which to casually amble and soak in the fresh air. And although Starbucks may not be everyone's cup of tea, I spend the occasional time drinking my frappucino by the side of the river. All of this has nothing whatsoever to do with the great escape, but it's nice being slightly frivolous which clearly indicates that 'Englishmen shouldn't go out into the midday sun.' Which makes you wonder if there's any connection between the nasty effects of the sun and the British love for fried food.
Anyway back to the story in hand, which seems such a long time ago now. I wandered down to the park of my choice, the river running along its entire length, frantically searching for a bees nest to film. You may view this however you wish, but there is a thin line separating madness and inspired creativity, and I always lean toward the latter. Disappointed not to find nature's constant perplexing question 'In terms of physics how on earth does the bee manage to fly?' I happened upon a row of hawthorn trees close to the path I was walking along, which contained a number of finely woven hammocks, slung between branches, full of minute black eggs and developed caterpillars. Needless to say I became somewhat excited by the 2cm wriggly things, which undoubtedly proves I might need to get a life after all. That aside, it was wonderful to watch a moment, and film it, where all the elements of nature came together in one perfect moment.
Watching those delightful nondescript caterpillars going about their natural business, cocooned for a brief period of time before setting off on their own eventful journeys, it's somewhat educational to watch the natural behaviour of wildlife in its true environment and the simple pleasures it provides to the well-being of the human psyche.
And the filming, well it just goes to show that no matter educated you are, you realise why they teach you to read from a very early age, such is the penalty for being enthusiastically creative. I finally understand those comments of my school teachers who use to write on my reports 'tried hard but needs to concentrate more.' As for the sun, I give up!
Yes, it's late spring and you can't help wonder if it's just the winter being extended because Mother Nature has decided she has a sense of humour. A warped sense of humour I might add. Of course the lack of sun and warm weather might well be the result of global warming, and whilst the proponents might have a point I also tend to think that the strange behaviour of the weather is perfectly normal. No matter how easy it is to pin the blame on the human race for its disgraceful abuse of the environment and natural resources, the Earth's history has been dominated by extremes of weather change; perhaps this is just another.
But back to the 'great escape'. One of the things my city is blessed with is a river running through its centre, and plenty of parks through which to casually amble and soak in the fresh air. And although Starbucks may not be everyone's cup of tea, I spend the occasional time drinking my frappucino by the side of the river. All of this has nothing whatsoever to do with the great escape, but it's nice being slightly frivolous which clearly indicates that 'Englishmen shouldn't go out into the midday sun.' Which makes you wonder if there's any connection between the nasty effects of the sun and the British love for fried food.
Anyway back to the story in hand, which seems such a long time ago now. I wandered down to the park of my choice, the river running along its entire length, frantically searching for a bees nest to film. You may view this however you wish, but there is a thin line separating madness and inspired creativity, and I always lean toward the latter. Disappointed not to find nature's constant perplexing question 'In terms of physics how on earth does the bee manage to fly?' I happened upon a row of hawthorn trees close to the path I was walking along, which contained a number of finely woven hammocks, slung between branches, full of minute black eggs and developed caterpillars. Needless to say I became somewhat excited by the 2cm wriggly things, which undoubtedly proves I might need to get a life after all. That aside, it was wonderful to watch a moment, and film it, where all the elements of nature came together in one perfect moment.
Watching those delightful nondescript caterpillars going about their natural business, cocooned for a brief period of time before setting off on their own eventful journeys, it's somewhat educational to watch the natural behaviour of wildlife in its true environment and the simple pleasures it provides to the well-being of the human psyche.
And the filming, well it just goes to show that no matter educated you are, you realise why they teach you to read from a very early age, such is the penalty for being enthusiastically creative. I finally understand those comments of my school teachers who use to write on my reports 'tried hard but needs to concentrate more.' As for the sun, I give up!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Politics, bees and the innocence of childhood!
A strange week has passed, with the world passing by in its own peculiar way. The British general election turned up a result that nobody was in the least bit surprised by, and whilst this particular election was the first since 1997 to stir up some interest in my skeptical attitude towards all things involving British politics, nevertheless the boredom with it all is back. I thank god that British elections only run for about a month, whilst the American elections for president last around 18 months or so. As for the hung parliament that resulted from the 'I prefer to sit on the fence, than actually do something radical' British electorate, and consequently no political party ended up with a majority, that could form a government, well the British have ended up with exactly the very things they complained about. I find it unsurprising that the British character remains stuck in its world of serfdom and servility.
Anyway, enough of the politics and on to more pleasing news! I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you who have visited this blog, over the past month I've seen an increase of over 300% in visitors, which I find amazing and somewhat humbling. This in turn has led to more people downloading the free sample of my book, 'Nick & Jenny', along with a small increase in those who've bought a copy. And on top of that, more people have begun to look at my webpage for 'English Support Services', which has seen visitor traffic increase by 800%. Of course I can't rest on my laurels, as it were, and so the hard, but pleasurable, work continues apace. So, again, a very BIG THANK YOU for all your support in making my 'dreams' come true.
Whilst I'm on the subject of my novel, 'Nick & Jenny' I've been asked about the paperback version of the book. All I can say at the moment is that it will be published in paperback form in the future, but that's sometime off as I've another novel, 'Danny's Navel Adventure' due to be published in June/July time, in addition to other projects I'm working on, which doesn't leave me with the time to do everything I'd like.
One of the big pluses' of this week is that I've finally started working on my film about the trip to the USA during Dec. '09 to Jan. '10. The downside to it all was my realisation that I'd taken more film and photos than I'd thought, and there's going to be lots left out of the final film, which at this early stage is running at 35 minutes long with a long way to go before it's finished. The good thing is that the beginning and end of the film is almost done, in terms of film content and titles, but the music tracks have to be added and I'm still arguing with myself about whether I should add a voice over; the worry is that the voice will start to argue with me.
Finally, after spending far too long locked up in the hovel, I decided to escape. Well it was a very pleasant late afternoon, or appeared to be. Walking to my intended destination, the local graveyard, where I wanted to contemplate my navel and do some wildlife filming, the cheerful fluffy bits above my head became more threatening. As I was in my normal mood of cheery glee and endless useless thoughts, I ignored the brewing storm. Fifteen minutes later I'm sheltering under a tree, but fortunately I discovered a bees nest in the surrounding earth. Not one to give up a missed opportunity, and the dense foliage of the tree protecting me and my camcorder, I set the camera up on the sturdy tripod. I was totally engrossed in watching the few bees enter the entrance to the nest, they clearly far more intelligent than I due to them going home and I staying put. After ten minutes or so the rain eased off enough for people to start wandering through the park, and a young girl, she must have been about seven or so, heavily blessed with the joys of innocent ignorance and driven by unending amounts of childish curiosity, inched her way ever closer to me. Clearly, a raving lunatic of decaying years, wearing an open necked shirt and wearing a cord jacket, pointing his camcorder at some spot of muck was too much for her. In her delightfully charming way, she slipped slightly on the damp grass above the nest and to steady herself placed her foot, heavily, on the nest entrance. All I could do was smile and pack up as no further filming was possible. The moral of the story is that whilst a bee is a fascinating insect to watch, it's hard to compare with the innocence of childhood and a child's uncanny ability to screw up an adult pleasure with the slip of a foot.
Anyway, enough of the politics and on to more pleasing news! I want to take this opportunity to thank all of you who have visited this blog, over the past month I've seen an increase of over 300% in visitors, which I find amazing and somewhat humbling. This in turn has led to more people downloading the free sample of my book, 'Nick & Jenny', along with a small increase in those who've bought a copy. And on top of that, more people have begun to look at my webpage for 'English Support Services', which has seen visitor traffic increase by 800%. Of course I can't rest on my laurels, as it were, and so the hard, but pleasurable, work continues apace. So, again, a very BIG THANK YOU for all your support in making my 'dreams' come true.
Whilst I'm on the subject of my novel, 'Nick & Jenny' I've been asked about the paperback version of the book. All I can say at the moment is that it will be published in paperback form in the future, but that's sometime off as I've another novel, 'Danny's Navel Adventure' due to be published in June/July time, in addition to other projects I'm working on, which doesn't leave me with the time to do everything I'd like.
One of the big pluses' of this week is that I've finally started working on my film about the trip to the USA during Dec. '09 to Jan. '10. The downside to it all was my realisation that I'd taken more film and photos than I'd thought, and there's going to be lots left out of the final film, which at this early stage is running at 35 minutes long with a long way to go before it's finished. The good thing is that the beginning and end of the film is almost done, in terms of film content and titles, but the music tracks have to be added and I'm still arguing with myself about whether I should add a voice over; the worry is that the voice will start to argue with me.
Finally, after spending far too long locked up in the hovel, I decided to escape. Well it was a very pleasant late afternoon, or appeared to be. Walking to my intended destination, the local graveyard, where I wanted to contemplate my navel and do some wildlife filming, the cheerful fluffy bits above my head became more threatening. As I was in my normal mood of cheery glee and endless useless thoughts, I ignored the brewing storm. Fifteen minutes later I'm sheltering under a tree, but fortunately I discovered a bees nest in the surrounding earth. Not one to give up a missed opportunity, and the dense foliage of the tree protecting me and my camcorder, I set the camera up on the sturdy tripod. I was totally engrossed in watching the few bees enter the entrance to the nest, they clearly far more intelligent than I due to them going home and I staying put. After ten minutes or so the rain eased off enough for people to start wandering through the park, and a young girl, she must have been about seven or so, heavily blessed with the joys of innocent ignorance and driven by unending amounts of childish curiosity, inched her way ever closer to me. Clearly, a raving lunatic of decaying years, wearing an open necked shirt and wearing a cord jacket, pointing his camcorder at some spot of muck was too much for her. In her delightfully charming way, she slipped slightly on the damp grass above the nest and to steady herself placed her foot, heavily, on the nest entrance. All I could do was smile and pack up as no further filming was possible. The moral of the story is that whilst a bee is a fascinating insect to watch, it's hard to compare with the innocence of childhood and a child's uncanny ability to screw up an adult pleasure with the slip of a foot.
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