why I do what I do when I do

It's been interesting uploading stuff over the past couple of days with no ftp client yet installed and (for the past two blips) using only such internet as is available through the use of a portable telephone as a modem in a place of relative (technological) primitiveness such as Ayr (though to be fair it now has at least three out of the big four coffee-chains) as it's forced me to pick one image and not cheat by linking to others even if there's been other stuff I've cropped and processed and pondered. I occasionally wonder why I bother wandering around for hours taking pictures of lots of things when only one is really going to see the light of internet and the rest are likely to just sit and mope away to themselves on an hard drive somewhere. Part of it is that the more I take the more I know what sort of thing I can make work and what sort of thing I shouldn't bother trying to take as it doesn't work or what sort of thing I need to approach differently and what sort of thing usually works but isn't interesting enough to blip or what sort of thing works but should only be done every now and then in order to not overdo it and get bored.

Yesterday I only took about seven or eight pictures and of only two subjects so it was fairly easy to choose but today's various wanderings in a variety of weather conditions resulted in many more. Technically the most interesting thing I did today was crawl underneath Nicky's parents' house in order to pull a piece of string through from an airbrick at the back to the wee hatch behind the telly at the front as a leader for the wire which will be installed by a satellite television installation operative sometime next week (much though I hate being party to anything involving the expansion of the Murdoch empire) but none of the pictures turned out that well. A better picture would be Nicky's dad's face when he finds out that there's no way he's going to get a big fat satellite-wire through the wee tiny holes of the airbrick, especially with the end of the leader string tied around it but I'm not going to be here when that happens. The technically best picture was of a rail/pedestrian bridge over a river but it's too similar to something in the blipbank. The most colourful picture was colourful but dull and the most action-packed picture was a bit uneventful. The Chosen One was the first one I took which I thought at the time might get used at the end of the day and is sort of the sort of thing I like to take sorts of picture of. Sort of thing. Meh. I walked past the same thing a couple of hours later on the return journey and expected it to look more dejected and bedraggled and damp but the yellowness wasn't popping as much as yellowness usually does in the rain; it must have been painted with the wrong kind of paint as all the yellow lines nearby were fine. It possibly stuck out more on the way in as shortly before it I'd passed a large number of churches disgorging large numbers of churchgoers of varying size and the wee yellow thing looked as if it was peeking over seeing if it was safe to come out more than it would have had there been fewer churchgoers around. Otherwise it might just have looked as if it was peering over at the other side of the street and wondering if it would be any more exciting to live there.

I think I might go and sort some warm salty water now as recommended by Northern to see if it'll clear out my nosepipes. I suppose at the very worst it'll just be like inhaling some seawater when swimming in the sea except without the sense of fear that the seawater might contain unwholesome substances such as radioactive waste, sewage or fish.