Going Online

It has been an odd winter so far. Flowers are in bloom, flies have been lazily buzzing and clothing retailers are desperately discounting their stock of unsold thermal wear. So far so good, but the mild weather has also been accompanied by flash floods and the occasional gale force wind.

Is it climate change? I don't know, but I was disturbed to read that the number of flowers in bloom on January 1st had risen from around 40 to 436.

I've been taking advantage of the mild temperatures by going for several walks around the local area. I suppose it's part of my New Year's resolution - the one I have every year: lose weight, exercise more and drink less. It's always been a half-hearted crusade, but the death of a close friend has strengthened my resolve.

My other vague resolutions for 2015 are as follows:

• To have a holiday - it's three years since we went anywhere. I know that it's a bit of a 'First World Problem' and if you're reading this on a solar powered tablet by a mudhut in the Okavango, I'm sorry for whinging, but when I signed up to being a parent, an annual family holiday was one of the clauses in my contract.

• To stop our garden from looking as if it is in Pripyat. If this blog suddenly stops, I've probably been eaten by one of the creatures that have evolved there.

• To visit an island. If it's one with a secret base and a kidnapped scientist, that will be even better.

• To have more fun. 

The last resolution is particularly important. If I've had a difficult time with my older son, it's important to do something that breaks the mood. Unfortunately, working alone in a small room logging books only seems to exacerbate any feelings of impending doom. I miss having colleagues.

I hope that my son's predicament will improve this year. We're getting a lot more help and the local authority have agreed to pay for him to go to a specialist school (something that only happens if every other avenue has been exhausted). All we have to do now is get him there. I really hope he goes, as it's a fantastic opportunity.

But I digress. The original point of this post was simply to share a few photos from today's walk around Lewes. First, a typical local scene:

These public allotments have a ridiculously long waiting list, as the bien pensants of Lewes all want to  prepare themselves for the post-oil economy by growing a few radishes. I'll die before my turn comes up.

One time I walked along the road next to the allotment and saw Kevin Bacon, which must get me top marks in the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game (in case you were wondering why he was there, he was filming a commercial. Not one for allotments).

This disused railwayline, on the eastern side of Lewes, has a unsettling, post-apocalyptic atmosphere. It looks innocuous enough in this photo, but the abandoned sidings and eerie silence suggest that a disaster has taken place (other than the Beeching Report).

The railway line passes under this bridge. The writing reads: "GATEWAY MEDIUM. CHALK IS A GATEWAY MEDIUM. CHALK IS A GATEWAY MEDIUM. CHALK IS A GATEWAY MEDIUM..." and so on.

I wondered what it all meant.

Later, I Googled the phrase, not expecting to find anything. To my surprise, this YouTube clip appeared:


The video left me none the wiser, but an additional one minute's research suggests that this phrase comes from the LAPD, who sent officers in riot gear to arrest Occupy protesters who were writing slogans in chalk.

Accused of being heavy-handed, the police allegedly replied that chalk was a "gateway medium" to full-blown vandalism. Naturally, this phrase invited ridicule.

Further along the line, to add to the sense of unreality, a nearby tree had this earring hanging from a branch. It felt like a clue in a second-rate detective drama.

As I examined the jewellery, I heard my wife saying "Ugh, that's horrible. Don't tell Dad. He'll want to take a photo of it." I turned and saw her looking at something on the ground.

She was right. I did.