Sunday, 7 December 2008

Random-Eyed About Plankton.

I had so many things I wanted to blog about. They have all evaporated, like the mists off the frosty fields. My God, it is cold here. The frost is hard, the frost is hard, the hoar on the grass is as crunchy as a billion packets of deep-frozen crisps.

We had a perfect afternoon. We drove out to Smallpox hill, and climbed it. No-one goes to Smallpox Hill. It's always nice and quiet. We laughed at the hot air balloons nearly getting wrong at the valley head. The surge of the burners communicates panic quite beautifully. Tip: if a balloon goes up, let go of the rope. No relevance, the last. But the sun was low, the shadows were black, the sheep were sheepish, and the whole world seemed made of ice and sun, and it was gorgeous. On the way home, the sunset was so outrageous we stopped, and I had my faith in the rest of humanity restored seeing how many other people acted "on an impulse". We could see all the way over the Severn, and all the hills of South Wales were looming up out of the distant mists.

Oh, I've remembered what I was going to blog about. Neurotransmitters, and my dirty old theory... another day (hey, get the abstract here: dopamine: flight of thought; norepiphpherphriphne (noradrenalin): psychomotor-agitation; serotonin: mood; but it is all much more complicated). And also a book review... but again, another day. At least I'll remember now.

As for the title of this post, one of my cousins is vaguely responsible, and she's a rare star.


edit: and Hamlet

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