Like a Damn Winter

My search for the essential Hawker continues. Although I wanted to be thought of as a spider, it is possible that we are butterflies. However, the Guardian reported that we are dragonflies and in danger of extinction. http://colinhawker.blogspot.com/2010/03/hawker-in-danger-of-extinction.html

I have been assisted in my search for personal identity by Max Küng, writer of a column in “Das Magazin”, in the Saturday Edition of the Tages Anzeiger. He comments that “The winter, this year, has been like a damn hawker, whom one sends to the devil, but simply won’t go away”. http://dasmagazin.ch/index.php/max-kung-53/ (The Google translator comes up with „damn peddler“. See the start of the 5th Paragraph).

My initial reaction was one of outrage. My emotions were similar to those I experienced, as a young man, on seeing myself unwanted in so many places. “No Hawker or Circulars” was a common warning to my kith and kin to stay away.

For Max Küng’s comments, I would write to my Swiss MP, a draft letter of protest to the Tages Anzeiger, instruct lawyers, organise a demonstration outside the offices of this newspaper and start a movement to promote “Hawkers are like the Spring”.

However, on more mature reflection (and dragonflies are not known for mature reflection), it is possible that Max Küng has shed a new light on the characteristics on Hawkers. It reminded me of an answer that I gave once at an interview, when asked what thought my defining characteristic is. “Stubbornness” was the immediate response. Certainly persistent. Probably also very irritating and annoying.

I should have added “Like a damn winter. You try to send it to the devil, but it simply won’t go away”.

I feel a new motto coming one.

The Hawker in Danger of Extinction

It has taken Edward Hawker to discover our true nature and the danger of our position. We are dragonflies and are on the brink of extinction.

Personally, I had always regarded myself as a butterfly, never concentrating long enough to on any one subject to be an expert, and being an object of bewilderment to those around (“I wonder what he is up to this time? – another marathon, I suppose”) and then moving on to the next subject.

I am not sure about the distinctive elements in our genes. Hawker are adequately equipped for survival, can be randomly annoying and are fast enough to run away from danger. In the insect world, I could cope with being a spider. Additional possibilities here of causing some mischief, by scaring spinsters in their baths, before being swatted by the News of the World.

I would not want to be an ant. It’s a dog’s life being an ant (hmm), having to do as you are told, and carrying out a single prearranged task during your life. This would be too boring, unless you happen to be the one responsible for being the parent of 20 million offspring.

But I had never considered that I might be a dragonfly. Darting to and fro, albeit for only a brief time, and creating a colourful distraction to children playing by ponds. But no sooner have I discovered that I am a dragonfly, I find out that out the East Anglian branch is in danger of extinction. Global warming, the financial crisis and the internet must be to blame.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/gallery/2010/mar/11/conservation-wildlife?picture=360209661

To paraphrase Edward, “Oh no, the Norfolk Hawker is in danger from rising sea levels and loss of Wetland – Louise, what are you going to do if this reaches Norwich? Let’s hope this problem doesn’t reach that far.”

(Do dragonflies have to go through CRB checks, before being allowed to fly near children?)

Onions and Fractels

I remember reading or hearing somewhere about fractals. Perhaps it was in a film, with a learned but slightly mad professor explaining the theory for the benefit of the audience. My memory of this is hazy. It involves some objects in nature, being divisible, and on being divided look similar to the whole. The Scandinavian coast and corral are given as examples – but I am not on very good ground here.

School homework fits this definition, but never gets a mention. No matter how much is cut away or divided, you are left with what you started.

Amazingly, I found an undocumented fractal in the kitchen yesterday, when I was cooking the Saturday evening meal. (This was necessary as Hazel had just come out of hospital, having had a number of four inch nails, as well as other parts from a large Meccano set, removed from her leg).

If there is sufficient demand, I will publish yesterday’s recipe for Grumpy’s curried chicken, made from leftover Christmas turkey and curry sauce from Tesco and old bananas. Somehow, I think that this demand will not be forthcoming, so I will return to the plot.

I had peeled an onion. Not so hard, you think. The skin had been removed, the onion diced and was sizzling gently on the frying pan. All that remained is too clear up the remains. Also not so hard, you think. You would be wrong. Onion skins are fractals, according to Grumpy’s newly invented theory of fractals.

Try picking up the onion skin and putting it in the kitchen bin. The onion ring splits into four bits, all images of each other and all now lying on the kitchen floor. Bending down to pick up these fractal images of the previous onion skin, and ignoring the complaints of pain coming from my back, I picked up the remains. One of these remains now also proceeds to replicate itself and spread itself over a distance of four feet. Two more rounds of this, and I am a defeated man. There are still parts of this Scandinavian coastline somewhere in the kitchen.

Perhaps I could include this as part of the apartment particulars when we come to sell the apartment. “A deceptively spacious family dwelling, complete with its own fractals”.

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(By the way, why do people always refer to Tescos – “I went to Tescos”; Is this the supermarket equivalent of a pub crawl?).

Flat Eric Awards

My good friend Nigel Rogers an his wife, Christina, have been staying with us. We were discussing the dismal state of the world and agreed that it wasn’t like this in our day. For some reason, we had read an article in the Spectator, which wrote about the proliferation of award ceremonies, the particular one in question at that time being the BAFTAs.

So because we were in disagreeing mood, we disagreed and decided that the Spectator must be wrong and there were not enough awards.

This deficiency needs to be addressed. We have decided to establish our own awards. Too many people have been excluded from having an award, the categories discriminating against people who don’t qualify. As discrimination is a bad thing, someone should do something.

Everyone must win something. For example, Nigel has been nominated for the Cooking Ratatouille on Monday award. Christina will be nominated for the “Skiing with her Skis very close together 15 yards ahead of Colin” award. Colin will be nominated for the “Complaining very loudly about the music before it has been switched on” award. And so on. You get the idea.

We will need our own Awards ceremony and everyone must cry and be very emotional. Flat Eric, our sponsor, will take charge of the proceedings.

Flat Eric will be lobbying the Government to set up an “Awards Equality Commission” Do you think that he can get a grant for this?

Has Spring arrived?

Three days ago, when out walking, we heard a woodpecker. Then again the next day, back at the apartment, it was the same fast drilling and unmistakable sound of a woodpecker.

This morning, two sparrows were chasing each other, looking very lively. I have no idea what they were doing.

The snow in Laax (at 3,500 feet) has melted. The meadows, at this time of year normally serving as a toboggan run, are looking bare, as is the ski run down to Falera (at 4,250 feet) – (see photos). The first butterfly in Switzerland has been spotted (so I am told). All this caused by unseasonally warm 10° weather (50° in old money).

The Swiss snow has, in the meantime, moved to the British Isles. I hear that Scotland has more snow than the rest of Europe. Perhaps Scotland will export it. Scottish ski resorts are enjoying a boom and British motorists are learning the benefits of snow chains and winter tyres.

Perhaps spring is coming early to Switzerland. I am getting my swimming trunks out ready to swim in the lake, and my shorts and T-Shorts are standing ready for some serious hiking.

But then, perhaps not. The grass has not yet started to turn green and the ducks have not returned to the Laax lake. The weather could still make fools of us all. A cold snap, 3 feet of snow overnight and the usual chaos will ensue. Yes, three feet of snow overnight will be noticed even here.

I enjoy spring. So getting more value for my money out of ski pass or seeing the spring flowers and feeding the ducks, I win either way.

(Where do the Laax ducks go for the winter?)