Square cut or pear shaped…

Woman hand with gold ring

Michal Bednarek – Dreamstime Stock


Now here’s something I don’t understand… have never understood… will never… etc.  (Parentheses – it’s beginning to dawn on me that there are quite a lot of things that I don’t understand !!)

Women and rocks.  I’m not talking about my sixth form Geology teacher.  Hilarious wild -haired Scottish woman.  Really, really into rocks.  The fossil type.  The sedimentary kind.  The extruded ones.  Not so much the super hard shiny ones.  She was such a Geologist, that all other elements of scientific interest seemed to her to be not really worth a mention.  For example, all life forms were referred to as “beasties” (in a Scottish accent).  Just beasties.   Didn’t matter if it was a woolly mammoth or a gnat – it was a beastie.

I’m thinking here more along the lines of women talking about jewellery.  Um… oh God how fucking boring is that.  Some women can bang on for hours and hours about what type of engagement / wedding / anniversary ring they want / got.  I’ve never been engaged; and I guess it’s redundant to say that I’ve also never been married or anniversaried.  Now – make of that what you will.  But, I’m pretty confident that were I ever to be engaged / married / anniversaried, then my primary focus would not ever be drawn to the discussion of rocks.

I’ve heard women go on for ages and ages about baguette diamonds, cluster settings, emerald cut or sapphire cut….

“Are you going for the white gold or the platinum?”

“Gosh, such a difficult choice, isn’t it”

My ever so cynical mind goes…

“Um, no I don’t think it is… why don’t you just go for the one that’s going to cost your boyf / partner / fiancé / husband more money, so that then you can talk loudly about how much it cost, and he can do that thing that men do – that inverted pride thing – where he “complains” about how much money you’re costing him, whilst actually being proud of you costing him money, because it appeals to his ego, and possibly to his primal need to provide for and protect you.  Even though I think the primal feeling is really meant for life and death scenarios where he ensures that his woman and his offspring are sufficiently fed, watered, sheltered, and not eaten by a sabre toothed tiger.

Also, it’s a metal.  So what.  Big Stretch…. yyyyaaaawwwwnnnn.

To the rocks.  It’s blue, or it’s green, or white or yellow or pink, or whatever, and it’s a nice hard shiny stone.  Great.  I don’t mind shiny stones, they’re kind of pretty I guess, but more interesting are the forces which created them (Mrs Scottish “Beastie” Geology Teacher would be pleased, “Och Aye The Noo, something did go into her head” !!)

I sure as heck don’t ascribe any exorbitant value to them.  It’s a pretty rock.  That’s all.  It is not worth remortgaging your house for.  It is not worth not having an entire plethora of other stuff, that could be useful, or helpful to you and your family in the course of your daily lives.  It is not worth not having leisure in order to pay for a shiny rock.  It’s not worth not giving some money to a worthy charity for.

And it really doesn’t warrant much in the way of discussion or conversation.  It’s a rock.

Also, it’s a symbol – it is symbolic of Love.  It really shouldn’t matter if it’s a Coke can ring-pull.  (or Pepsi, or any other leading brand of cola)

Sorry, but am I the only woman who thinks like this?  Am I actually a man, in this respect?

Do men think that the whole obsession with shiny metal and shiny rocks is simply mental?

It drives me nuts.  There are so many more interesting things to talk about than shiny rocks and how much they cost.  It’s just in such bad taste to bang on about money in this way.  It’s soooooo ’80’s aspirational.  We’re not all watching ‘Wall Street’ any more, and Michael Douglas is Igneous and married to some Welsh woman.

Rooshkie. x.


Adam Ant !


I think that “leaders” have one thing in common – perhaps I mean “bad leaders”, of all ilks… national, commercial, religious, etc… and it is this…

They are adamant !!

I’ve met, and know, several people who, once they state something – let’s call it “a fact”, then that’s it, and they will not waiver from that point.  They are absolutely set in stone, that the fact, which they have stated, is incontrovertible.

I find this perpetually astonishing… and it seems to me that in many instances, the “fact” stated, is more of an opinion… or just simply “something I read”, or “something someone once told me”, or something which has melted so deeply into our collective cultural psyche that we take it as read.

I’ve been in plenty of scenarios where the “fact” stated was… in fact… wrong, incorrect and erroneous (yes, I know… don’t you just love tautology when you’re trying to make a point).

Trying to recall a particular instance.  There are a lot.  However… let’s go with this one.

I’m a horticulturalist, I work with plants… have done for nigh on fifteen years, and before that was a keen amateur.  I’ve read a ridiculous number of books about horticulture, and have been practicing the art (there’s a hint there) for a long time.

I believe that I have a natural empathy with plants… I understand them, and they respond to this.  I know what they need, and I know what they want, and I care enough to make sure… within the parameters of what I also want… that I give this to them.

So when I was told… adamantly… by someone who is considered a horticulture “expert”, that if two plants “touch each-other” – that they will start to die !!!!!

I thought, as I collected my jaw from the floor…

WHAT ???  Ex-Squeeze me???  Are you talking complete and utter crap or what ???

I didn’t say this.  I’m actually quite polite, and although I was thinking, “Oh My Lord, what a load of old bollocks”… I just said, “I don’t think that’s right”.

The “Expert” continued… “Yes (and get this, he actually said this)… it’s a horticultural fact”.

I thought – are you mentally mental ???  I mean for goodness sake… that’s the sort of thing that not even someone who knows almost nothing about plants would say.  What I mean is, that a complete rank amateur in horticulture would almost instinctively know that this is complete and utter bullshit.

So I wondered if I had misunderstood what this person… ahem ahem, do excuse me, I mean “expert” had said.

He was blustering at this point.  Which is a sure sign that someone knows that they’ve just said something so wrong it defies the laws of wrongevity (made that word up… did you notice?), but is too arrogant to retract.

This is only one example of the Adam Ant Syndrome – as I have come to dub it in my own head.

It happens all the time, and each time it has me flummoxed.  My polite Ness says out loud “Hmmm… what a very interesting point of view you have, let me be sure to mull this over when time and circumstance allow”.

My proper brain is going… “Oh fuck, how can you stand there looking all defiant, almost challenging me to contradict you… and being so smug and adamant when you’ve just said the stupidest fucking thing in the world ever, and moreover – you know it”.

What then happens, because people who know better often also have better manners… I will simply cave, because it just isn’t worth the effort being that rude to someone who is that stupid and that adamant !!

I guess it’s when adamancy turns to fundamentalism that the real problems begin.

It’s when a religious, political or business “leader” states something which many of the smarter people in the world realise is total nonsense, or is simply a misguided matter of belief, or opinion posing as absolute undeniable fact… that’s where it becomes important to stand them down.

I have to say also that I don’t equate adamancy with strength… all too often it brings power… of some sort, to it’s espouser, but certainly not genuine strength… in fact it is emblematic of a lack thereof.

To not allow flexibility in ones thought and utterances, and to not – when questioned – be able to consider the possibility that one might be wrong, incorrect, or erroneous (!) is a manifestation of a kind of weakness.

Oh, and one other thing… just because someone says something louder, more often, and with a more adamantine quality… that does not make it correct…

Question it… question it all… keep questioning it all, always.

Rooshkie… still asking the questions…  x.

Environ-mental !!!


Photo by Melinda Nagy – Dreamstime.com

Sitting in a cafe the other day, I could overhear (how could I not have – loud, shouty types they were) a couple of City Slickers discussing the “environment”. They REALLY seemed to think that they cared about the environment, about animals, about forests, and grasslands and wetlands MORE than the “country bumpkins”. There was a lot of stuff about farmers “ruining” the environment and the countryside. And I thought, wow, that’s so counter-intuitive… and them with all their urban cleverness… Sheesh.

My experience is that “Country folk” care about the countryside SO MUCH, that they actually LIVE IN IT !!!

These two were banging on about what the people who live in rural areas should and shouldn’t do… and I wanted, Oh how I wanted to say… “Do you know what… most country folk couldn’t give a pigs arse (you’d call that “leg of pork”) what you do… because they’re too busy working.”

To assume that after a couple of “countryside short breaks” that a townie knows how it operates, how it functions, how the people live in the countryside, is utter Bollocks… In fact, more than that, it’s Bullocks Bollocks!! You can only understand country people by living in the countryside.

Those City workers go home and sit in their electricity guzzling suburban house with the Heating or air con on constantly, eating eggs and bacon for breakfast, having fresh milk in their leading brand of coffee, reading the Financial Times (BTW they’re made from trees…shock horror amazement, stop the logging!!).

I think some city people have forgotten where all “dis shit” comes from… you know I mean the food, the consumables, etc – not the actual shit… which one does find in abundance in the countryside… and anyone who goes all squeamish over this might actually remember that ALL ANIMALS POO… it’s a simple fact, YOU included… try and get used to this basic tenet of life, and other things might become easier to accept !!!

It’s hard enough for farmers to keep stock (literally not figuratively), to ensure that it’s healthy, to make it grow and prosper, to make money out of it…so that Mr & Mrs C.T. Slicker can have breakfast, lunch and dinner, without then being criticised by people who know pig all about pig all about farming !!

The vast majority of farming folk that I’ve met care passionately about the countryside, about the animals they rear, and about the wildlife around them. They care about the trees and the grasslands and the birds. Most farmers have a more intimate knowledge of, and a greater love for, these things than urban folk will ever know or comprehend.

City lives are unfathomable to a farmer who lives in nature, who is blessed to be upon the land, breathing the clean crisp air every glorious day.

Now let’s recite…

God Speed The Plough,

AKA The Farmers’ Prayer…

(Dedicated to my Grandparents – lifelong farmers from generations of farmers.)

Let the wealthy and great
Roll in splendour and state,
I envy them not I declare it.

I eat my own lamb,
My own chickens and ham,
I shear my own fleece and I wear it.

I have lawns, I have bowers,
I have fruit, I have flowers,
The lark is my morning alarmer.

So jolly boys now,
Here’s God speed the plough,
Good luck and long life to the farmer.

Amen ….

(Small note that I personally don’t eat lamb or ham, but… no judgement… not much anyway… perhaps a bit… poor Lambkins… poor Piggy Wiggy… ethical choice is yours).

So, back to the two be-suited and be-spectacled ones in the cafe – those two should go back to their climate-controlled 40th floor office; check the NASDAQ, then check the NADSAQ… grow some … and MYOB.

Oh yeah… One more thing… Why does Keith URBAN make country music ?

I’ve NEVER understood that.

Rooshkie. x.