Category Archives: personal

personal, photography, pleasures

Reasons to be Grateful: 39

Experiment, week 39. Well here we are again. Another week has gone round. Where did it go to? And so it’s time to document the five things which have made me happy or for which I’m grateful this week.

  1. Ultra-Sound Scan. On Monday I had to go to Hammersmith Hospital for an ultra-sound scan, because I have a lump where I shouldn’t have one (and where only 50% of us can have one). I went early in case I got stuck in all the extra traffic due to these wretched Olympic Games. I had a 10.40 appointment; I left home at 08.20 and was home again by 10.20 having stopped for a leisurely coffee after the scan. The scan was of course quick, simple and painless — and no it didn’t bother me in the least. Even better I got the all clear. If everything the NHS did was as good and efficient as this we’d have nothing to bitch about.
  2. Retsina & Mousaka. On Wednesday, early in the evening, I had a meeting at West Ealing. As one of our favourite restaurants, Retisna & Mousaka, is close by, and so are our friends Sue & Ziggy, we took the opportunity of grabbing our them and their two boys for a social evening. I wouldn’t normally do this mid-week but as it’s the school holidays there’s no harm the boys being a bit later to bed than usual. Needless to say there was plenty of very enjoyable food, drink and chat.

    Ely Cathedral West Front
    Click the image for larger views on Flickr

  3. Ely Cathedral. Fortunately we weren’t too late home on Wednesday evening as we were up at crack of something on Thursday for a day trip around some of the Cambridgeshire villages where my g-g-grandmother and her ancestors originated. One of them is Soham, which is a nice, quiet, small country town a few miles south of Ely. So of course, as we had the time, we had to go into Ely and spend an hour or so in the cathedral. I think Ely is one of my favourite cathedrals. The octagonal lantern tower is just such an amazing structure, built entirely of wood. It is visible across the fens for miles around, the more so as the cathedral stands on a slight hill (once an island in the marshes). Overall the villages weren’t amazing interesting, but the fenland is lovely and Ely is just a delight.
  4. Nutty-Seedy Bread. I’ve probably written about this before, but once or twice a week Noreen makes bread with seeds in. Usually a mix of pumpkin seed and pine nuts. So much nicer then plain, even if it is relatively expensive!

    Oak Bush Cricket
    Click the image for larger views on Flickr

  5. Oak Bush Cricket. Last evening I spotted an Oak Bush Cricket in the bathroom. We usually get the odd one in the house at this time of year. They’re 2-3cm long, bright green with yellow legs. Yes they live mostly on oak trees and they fly quite, jump and walk quite smartly backwards as well as forwards. I didn’t manage to photograph this one as it stayed out of range on the ceiling, but you can see from the photo above (which I took two years ago) that they are absolutely amazing tiny pieces of engineering. Stunning!
personal, pleasures

Reasons to be Grateful: 38

Experiment, week 38. So here we go, another week completed in the continuing experiment documenting five things which have made me happy or for which I’m grateful this week. We’ll soon be two-thirds of the way through the experiment.

  1. Willem Van De Velde and …
  2. The Wallace Collection this week produced the first two of selections. More on both here.

    3. Queen's Head and Artichoke, Albany Street, London NW1

  3. Queen’s Head & Artichoke. After we’d been to the Wallace Collection, Noreen and I pottered off (in a taxi) to the Artichoke for lunch. We had a selection of their tapas: Prawn & Scallop Skewers, Whitebait, Chorizo and Lentils, Cannellini Bean Salad and Patatas Bravas. This is an excellent gastro pub in Albany Street, NW1, very close to Great Portland Street and Regent’s Park tube stations. I can’t believe I’ve not written about it before as we use it both for ourselves and for some Anthony Powell Society functions (it is close to Powell’s former Chester Gate home). The menu is always interesting: a good selection of starters, main courses and puddings and on the other side a whole range of tapas; you can mix and match anyhow you like as long as you don’t want standard pub food. The food, beer, wine and service are always good and friendly; the manager is a characterful Frenchman (certainly Francophone with a wonderful Inspector Clouseau accent). They are always willing to try to accommodate allergies: we have one friend who is vegetarian and allergic to dairy, and they were quite happy to quickly adapt a risotto for her. And it isn’t expensive, especially for central London. The only downside is that if it’s full the main bar can be a bit noisy, but if you’re eating there is always the upstairs restaurant area. I have to thank our friend Jeff Manley for finding it on one of his transatlantic trips to London! Everyone we’ve taken there has liked it.
  4. Waitrose Chorizo Sausages. These were one of last week’s finds as they were on offer. Eaten cold between bread for lunch. Mmmmm!
  5. Strawberry & Gooseberry Crumble. Friday’s trip to the supermarket found lots of fresh strawberries and gooseberries leaping into our trolley. They were destined for a favourite crumble: gooseberry and strawberry — yes, it really does work! I cooked the fruit a bit first, with just a tablespoon of sugar and a small slug of apricot brandy. This was then topped with crumble and given a 10 minute burst in our combi oven. What an excellent way to start Sunday morning: a bowl of G&S Crumble** and Custard.

** G&S Crumble. An interesting addition to the Savoy Cabbage operas.

personal, ramblings

Five Questions #5

OK, so here is my answer to the last of the five questions I posed some weeks back.

For me there is nothing difficult about this one.

Question 5. Do you ask enough questions? Or do you settle for what you know?

No, I don’t ask enough questions. In my view you can never ask enough questions and anyone who genuinely seeks after knowledge of any form will always have another question to ask. But there are times when you have to settle for what you already know.

It is only by asking questions, looking for something new and pushing the boundaries that we ever make progress. That was as true for stone age man banging his rocks together to make fire as it is now. It is the fundamental of the scientific method: ask questions and don’t believe anything until you can reliably demonstrate it; be forever skeptical.

We learn and generate our views by asking the age-old question: Why? Yes children keep asking “Why?” for a reason — to gain more knowledge of how the world works. (So maybe “Because” isn’t actually a good answer, however tempting it is!)

Society’s morals, ethics and beliefs are essentially the consensus view of the majority (or at least of those in whom we invest the power to decide, eg. politicians, clergy, etc.). Progress is made by philosophers and people like me questioning this consensus view; asking why we have these beliefs; suggesting that there are other, better, ways. Sometimes our views prevail. Most times we are ridiculed. In neither case is it certain if we are right or wrong — indeed in many instances there are no right or wrong answers, just answers which currently work. When our views prevail the consensus moves, society’s beliefs change and progress is made.

Science works in the same way. There is a sum total of knowledge; think of it as a boundary. Essentially there are two types of researcher who attack this boundary, trying to move it forward, as an army moves it’s battle-front forward foot by foot, mile by mile.

There are the pioneers who forge way ahead with off-the-wall thinking: “Oh look! A happens, and so does B. I wonder if that means X97C also happens?” Sometimes it does and suddenly there is a breakthrough at the battle front.

Then there are the supporters, the completer-finishers (in Belbin terms), who come along saying: “We know A, and B, and X97C, and Z23XM. But is this also true for C, D, E … Z …?” And they fill in the gaps behind the pioneers.

Both are moving the battlefront forward in their own way. But they can do so only by repeatedly asking questions. Questions are how we learn and how we make progress. So unless you want to stagnate you cannot ask enough questions.

But there is a corollary. You can never have all the information you need to make a decision. If you did it would not be a decision but a fait accompli. Indeed you can never have enough (let alone all) information to make a decision.

But decisions have to be made; there often (especially in business) isn’t time to acquire more information, let alone all the information one would like. Management, in fact life in general, is all about making the best decision one can with the information available at the time**. The best managers get these decisions right (or at least not wrong) more often than the less good managers. Those who have successes in life make averagely better decisions for them than those who who are always stumbling from crisis to crisis in life’s basement.

[** This is also why it is pointless, and destructive, to regret something you’ve done. You made the best decision you could at the time; we all do; it would take an alien mind not to. You did your best; you cannot do more. Yes, by all means learn something from the experience, but regret serves no purpose.]

But even then there may be no right and wrong answers, because part of the available information is one’s outlook on life, and who is to say my cautious approach to investments is better or worse for me than your more risky approach is for you?

So to sum up. Keep asking those questions. But in life know when to stop, consolidate and make that decision. In searching for knowledge, just keep right on.

— ooOoo —

So there we are, five answers to five deceptively simple, but actually quite challenging, questions. Questions which have made me ask more questions, and in answering them pose yet further questions. Questions whose answers have turned into little philosophical essays. Hopefully you’ve enjoyed, maybe even been challenged by, this mini-series. I hope to do another sometime soon, when I have more questions, ideas or challenges. Meanwhile suggestions are always welcome!

personal, pleasures

Reasons to be Grateful: 37

Experiment, week 37. We’ve completed another week done in my continuing experiment in documenting five things which have made me happy or for which I’m grateful this week.

This week’s selection is for Sue, who challenged me to write one of these posts without mentioning food!

  1. Wood Smoke. I love the smell of wood smoke and bonfires. It always takes me back to my childhood and especially to scout camp. Those were good days! What is it that makes smells so evocative?
  2. Family Reconnections. What a brilliant week! I seem to have managed to put another bit of the family back together! My paternal grandfather skipped bail during the war and ended up having another three children by his mistress. (They never married as my grandmother wouldn’t give him a divorce.) I knew of my half-aunts’ existence when I was young and even met the eldest (who is about 7 years older than me; the other two are with a year of my age). But as with my father’s family contact was lost. I finally managed to trace the middle of the three sisters (family history forensics again!) and wrote to her in the hope that I could fill in some of the gaps on the family tree. She rang me last Sunday and I’ve now spoken with all three sisters; they’re all delighted to be back in touch after 40-odd years and longing to know more about their father. They’re spread around England so we’re planning to meet in October when they can all come to London. An interesting day beckons!
  3. New Glasses. I got my new glasses on Monday. Although my prescription hasn’t changed a lot, it was time for a new pair. They’re rimless and crystal clear. My optician was slightly concerned that they’ve had to change the make of lenses (what I have had for the last few pairs are no longer made) and that I might find these difficult to adjust to. But I’ve never had problems with varifocals and I adjusted to these instantly; not even any of this looking slightly fuzzy for a few hours. And they are such light titanium; they feel so fragile even compared with my old pair of gold frames, which weren’t exactly substantial. Mind you my wallet hurt a bit at £560! The frames weren’t expensive either, even with the surcharge for extra precision engineering for rimless. It’s the high spec, hard plastic, photo-chromic lenses that do the damage! But I’m blind without my glasses, and they’re so comfortable I don’t know I’m wearing them, so it is a good investment every few years.
  4. Sitting in the Garden. Isn’t it wonderful to have had some decent summer weather and been able to sit in the garden! Even more wondrous was the fact that the other evening it was so quiet: no noisy neighbours’ children, no planes escaping from Heathrow, no lawnmowers, and even very little traffic on the nearest main road. It was really quiet. Almost eerily so. Would it were like this more often.
  5. Wood Pigeons. Yes, wood pigeons! Columba palumbus. Not those scruffy feral pigeons (although I don’t dislike them). We’ve had wood pigeons round for years and their rather sleepy, slightly husky sounding call — coo-cooo-coo, coo-coo — is something else that takes me back to my childhood and camping with my parents at Rye when I would have been about four or five.

There you are, Sue, no mention of food at all! 🙂

personal, ramblings

Antidotes to Anti-Fat

Overweight? Under tall? P’ed off with being abused for it? Then read on.

Oh and if you’re someone who abuses the overweight (or indeed any other minority), you’d better read on too!

A few days ago I came across a blog post from last September at Crazy Beautiful by Dianne Sylvan, titled Ten Rules for Fat Girls. In it she admits to being obese, but she is not ashamed of it and is seriously annoyed by all those who give her abuse because of it. And she goes on to give other overweight girls some thoughts and ideas on how to be more comfortable with the way they are. Between these thoughts Dianne Sylvan is typically hard hitting:

I’m fat … There’s no concealing this fact. My fat is out there. It speaks. And it says “I am lovable and worthy just like I am, and fuck you if you disagree.” I’ve … gotten comfortable with the idea that people can look like anything and it’s all good.
…
You have sovereignty over your body and that means it is no one’s responsibility but your own.
…
How is discrimination and making people loathe themselves going to make them healthier? Obviously this doesn’t work or the number of overweight people would be rapidly declining, wouldn’t it … Has hate ever made anyone a better person?
…
That claptrap about obese people being a strain on the economy is nonsense; cancer costs millions of dollars to research and treat but nobody’s suggesting we let cancer patients die to save money. (Well actually in the UK we do — Ed)
…
Statistics show that weight loss fails over the long-term 95% of the time. How many conditions can doctors get away with prescribing something with only a 5% success rate? Yet dieting is considered a panacea. You know what else has a 5% success rate in treating disease? Bleeding someone to let the evil humours out.
…
It’s also assumed … that everyone knows what’s best for you but you.
…
I’ve heard quite a few thin women say things like … “getting fat would be the worst thing.” … Oh? Worse than child abuse, genocide, homophobia, or being allergic to chocolate? Worse than being an asshole? Worse than treating people like crap because of how they look? Is being fat worse than being an ignorant bigot? Worse than being a murderer? Worse than drowning kittens? Amebic dysentery? Losing a loved one? Losing a limb?

Well that’s enough. I’m sure you get the picture.

But do you know what’s interesting about this? It is just as relevant to men as to women. Men get abuse too, although maybe not as much as women. Men get bullied by doctors. I’ve even been bullied by a consultant neurologist FFS, who is an acquaintance — and I’m not even a patient of his! To this day I don’t know how I remained polite to him.

Yes, I’m obese. I know I am obese and I admit it. It doesn’t make me any less me. Or any less intelligent. Or any less able to know what works/is good for me. Or any less able to punch you in the throat.

OK, I don’t like being overweight or as horribly unfit as I am; I’m all too well aware of the consequences of my diabetes to be happy about it. And being “too big” can be horribly inconvenient. But it is also horrendously difficult to do much about it. In my case it is all tied up with my depression. It appears the whole caboodle goes back into my childhood, and despite hypnotherapy I’ve not yet been able to unbundle everything.

Yes, I have lost some weight but very slowly. At my heaviest I was 155kg and, after some ups and downs, I’m now down to about 138Kg. That’s still too much for my liking. But even if I lose a lot more I will never be a small bloke. I’m big boned and well built, naturally. It runs in my father’s family. We aren’t small people. And despite all the sport I played when younger, I’m not naturally athletic. So even if I’m not obese I’ll always be heavy and I’ll never be more than just about averagely fit.

But do you know what? The more people go on about my weight, the more resistant I become to doing anything about it. Having my weight thrust forever into the front of my brain is just so destructive. You end up thinking about nothing else. You cease to be you. It puts you under some huge stresses. If you allow it to, it takes over your life. And that makes the depression worse. And so we start the cycle all over again.

So I try not to dwell on it. I try not to let it take over. I try, in my quiet way (quiet? me?) to be sensible about food. But it seems to me the whole cycle isn’t well enough under control for anything to be quickly and easily alleviated. Which is why I’m trying hypnotherapy. But it is all slow going.

Meanwhile anyone who wants to abuse me about my weight had just better not. They don’t know — they cannot know — what is happening within me (FFS even I don’t know a lot of the time), nor how actually destructive their comments are. Besides it is really none of their business. It’s my concern, and mine alone.

At the end of the day, I’m me. All the way through. For better, for worse; until death do us part. And do you know something else? Nature probably made me that way for a reason. Whether you like it or not, do me the respect of not trying to change me.

personal, ramblings

Five Questions #4

OK, so here is my answer to the fourth of the five questions I promised I would answer.

This one is tricky. Not because I find it hard to answer but because it produces an inner conflict in all of us.

Question 4. When is it time to stop calculating risk and rewards and just do what you know is right?

Answer: Now.

Why?

Well to start with see the answer to question two above.

Secondly because in my view it is more ethical. Risk and reward imply a conscious choice to do something which is not optimal and not what your inner morality says should be. And shouldn’t we all be following our inner ethics?

My belief is that we all have that inner morality, even underlying all our religious, political and sociological superstructure of beliefs; and underlying our selfish desires. It is nothing to do with man-made constructs of belief; it’s to do with an inner respect of life.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy. And it certainly doesn’t mean I always get it right — much as I would like to. We all end up making greater or lesser compromises for a whole variety of reasons. But if we’re true to our underlying ethics we likely shouldn’t except perhaps in the pursuance of purely staying alive (and maybe sometimes not even then).

Do murderers (think, say, the Krays) really deep, deep down not know what they’re doing is wrong? Do bankers who make vast profits on the back of screwing peoples’ mortgage rates and businesses not understand, deep down, the lack of ethics in what they’re doing? I feel sure they do know these things. They may be brainwashed so they can’t allow that knowledge out, but I think it is there somewhere. Had they listened to that inner ethics early on maybe they wouldn’t have ended up where they did. And maybe the world would be a better place. Who knows.

Ultimately I think there is good, ethical, behaviour in all of us if we can but recognise it. But yes, that can be hard because in other ways we are wired to be selfish — because being selfish is a good personal survival strategy and at the first level evolution and “survival of the fittest” mean that we have to strive to survive and produce offspring. And remembering Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs that is deeper rooted than our sense of ethics.

So yes, it’s hard and can be uncomfortable, but in a society where we don’t have to literally fight for food and shelter surely we should strive to rise above our “animal instincts” and listen to our inner morality and ethics.

Perhaps it is best summed up in the words of my late friend Jim Duggan: Let your conscience be your guide. Not your ego or your bank balance.

And I fail just as much as the next person!

personal, ramblings, sexuality

Friends without Benefits

Up-Front Disclaimers:
(1) I am male and 110% heterosexual so this post is written from that standpoint. If your sexuality is other than male and straight hetero adjust what follows to suit your predilections.
(2) No-one will be identified herein. One or two persons may think they can identify themselves, and maybe they can, but they may be mistaken.
(3) I have been happily married for over 30 years and nothing that follows has, as far as I am aware, any disruptive effect on that; if anything, because I think, and am open, about such things the opposite is true. And of course my wife is entirety excluded from what follows.

I’ve been thinking recently about my reactions towards female friends and sex. First of all let me say that I am not talking about “friends with benefits”, because I don’t have any of them.

The first thing I have come to realise is that my female friends (friends, rather than casual acquaintances) past and present, fall rather neatly into two groups according to what are, I hope my underlying, impressions of the sexual content of that relationship. Sex with any of these friends has never been “on the table”.

There is a group of ladies (young and not so young) who I find to a greater or lesser extent sexually attractive — although I would never attempt to “cash in” on this. But however close our friendship, and however attractive I find them, almost to a woman I can look at them and say to myself “I could never live with her; she’d drive me up the wall!” because of whatever foible. I expect the feeling to be mutual. But nevertheless there is always this nagging feeling of “But I’d love to have sex with her, just because I’m curious to know what it’s like”. And I mean that just as written: I have a curiosity as to what sex with the lady is like — no more, no less. But, my friends, you’re safe; I would never insult you by overtly exposing my curiosity, let alone instigating anything sexual.

The other group of friends are almost the opposite. However close I am to them, and however delightful I find them, I have no curiosity at all about having sex with them. The thought just never occurs; it is not part of my (inner) equation of the relationship.

And I emphasise that sex is not on the table in any of these friendships and never has been. All of which I find curious, especially given the overlying sexual nature of the human male. After all it is often said (and I don’t know how much this is borne our by research) that men lose interest in women, even ones they’re friends with, when sex is definitively taken off the table — something I’ve always felt is a very male chauvinist attitude. But then men in western society generally are chauvinists, and I would admit that, much as I try not to be, I’m no exception.

The other thing I’ve come to realise is to do with my former girlfriends; those with whom I’ve had a sexual or proto-sexual relationship. Looking back at those relationships from a distance I realise that however much I still cherish and value them (and I do) they are done and gone. There was great and fun sex in some of them, and in others what sex there was was pretty rubbish. But, in retrospect, I learnt something from them all.

However with one exception none has left what I would term “a hole in my heart”. The one exception was my first real girlfriend; even after almost 40 years there is still a hole in my heart and a special place for that young lady. Whether that is because she did the breaking up, or because I found that break-up so hard (I’m still annoyed with myself for not coping better with it), or because I have never really reached full closure, I don’t know. We never had (penetrative) sex and despite our collective inexperience I still wonder what sex with her would have been like. I would love to know what happened to her; how she got on in life; and whether after all these years there would still be any friendship there. But I am sanguine enough to know that I never will know, and that she probably doesn’t care.

Am I alone in these feelings? Do others find their friendships divide into two groups: those where there is an inner sexual curiosity and those where there isn’t? And do others have long-gone relationships which have left a gaping hole in their heart even after half a lifetime? I’d love to know whether this is a common experience or whether I’m just deranged. (No, maybe don’t’ answer that!)

personal, pleasures

Reasons to be Grateful: 36

Experiment, week 36. Well it’s another week done in my continuing experiment in documenting five things which have made me happy or for which I’m grateful this week. So here’s this week’s selection.

  1. Fish Counter Display. We did our usual weekly supermarket trip on Thursday this week and walking up to the fish counter I spotted that the regular guy (Colin) had done a slightly different display:

    Caught in the Act

  2. King Prawns on Special Offer. Apart from the displays you can usually rely on Colin to come up with something tempting in the way of offers on either meat or fish. This week he offered us uncooked king prawns at the knock-down price of £11 a kilo. That really was no contest: one portion cooked and eaten that night with pasta, the rest in the freezer.
  3. Retsina and Moussaka. On Wednesday I had to go to an early evening meeting in West Ealing, which was scheduled to finish at 8pm (we actually finished slightly earlier). So I arranged to meet Noreen at the nearby Greek Cypriot restaurant, Retsina & Moussaka, were we had a typically good Greek feed: what a super small restaurant! This could become a regular treat as I will probably be attending these meetings every 6-8 weeks, although we’d better restrict our selves to just a main course otherwise all ideas of weight-loss will quickly fly out of the window!
  4. Lilies. Also at Waitrose on Thursday we bought a couple of really nice bunches of lilies: one yellow, the other white blushed with pink. As well as looking pretty they’re making the dining room smell heavenly.
  5. Dining Alfresco. Yay! Today has been hot and sunny: wall to wall sunshine! After summer we’ve had so far this is such a treat. And we’ve been able to eat outside not once but twice today: lunchtime and this evening. That’s the first time we’ve managed more than coffee and cake in the garden this year! What’s even better is that the forecast is for even hotter and sunnier weather for at least the next few days. Brilliant!
nudism, personal, ramblings

Five Questions #3

OK, so here, as promised, is my answer to the third of the five questions I promised I would answer.

This one is quite easy for me to answer. But it may be uncomfortable for some to read. So …

Question 3. What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you?

Answer: Have the courage to go nude in public much more.

As many out there will know from previous posts I have no problem with nudity and I have never hidden the fact that I spend a lot of time at home unclothed, or barely clothed. I had a somewhat Bohemian upbringing and was introduced to naturism by my parents at the age of about 9 or 10. As a consequence I have never had a problem with nudity — mine or anyone else’s.

However I am acutely aware that many others do find nudity a problem and that the law — often erroneously — acts as if public nudity were illegal, which by default it isn’t in the UK. As I understand the law (and I’m not a lawyer so it likely isn’t this simple) public nudity only may become illegal if there is intent to harm or disturb people, or if there are complaints; essentially the police generally have no powers to intervene unless there are, or they have good reason to believe there will be, complaints.

Given that others are likely to be upset by nudity and that one wishes to be a good neighbour and not to fall foul of the law, this means that I am a little circumspect about where I practice nudity. Indoors or on the patio where there is little chance of being overlooked is fine; walking down the High Street probably isn’t.

So one has to draw the line somewhere. One doesn’t go out unclothed. I mostly don’t stray down the garden or answer the front door without donning a pair of shorts, at least. And one doesn’t entertain visitors without at least a modicum of clothing. But I would like not to have to feel this way.

If I were braver, which is what this question is asking, I would be happier to answer the door, or do things in the garden or with visitors around, without worrying about being clothed. And one would have the courage to demand that the local swimming pool run “clothes optional” session — after all isn’t this part of equality and human rights?

Would I be happy to go shopping in the nude? I don’t know; it may not be a physically comfortable thing to do, and besides one needs somewhere to keep a credit card. But I would like to think that I could, legally and without upsetting people, if I wanted to. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

Sadly too many people still regard any nudity as a sexual act. It isn’t. And here, unfortunately, TV and the other media are very much to blame: if they portray nudity it is almost always in a sexual context so we shouldn’t be surprised that nude = sex in many people’s minds. And as we know there is the misapprehension that sex is dirty, hence nudity is dirty and disgusting … and we have arrived at prudery. But there is not a shred of evidence that nudity causes harm; if anything the opposite is true as this and this briefing documents from British Naturism highlight.

If anything nudity is less sexual (and much healthier) than being clothed. That pretty girl (or guy) you just saw walking down the street probably looks ordinary without clothes. In the nude state little is left to the imagination, so there isn’t the prospect of what’s being hidden to titillate us. Once you’ve seen half a dozen you’ve seen them all: young or old; fat or thin; male or female; black, white or sky-blue-pink. Clothing is much more sexual than nudity, despite that we all know — give or take the odd scar — what is underneath our clothes. (And anyway scars are interesting; they tell stories!) So where is the problem? Why do we have to hide our bodies away?

I actually think this is important for all of us and that prudery is a major public health risk. I have written here, and in other posts, about how a relaxed attitude to nudity is good for us.

I passionately believe that if we were all more relaxed about nudity and more comfortable with our, and everyone else’s, bodies (and sexuality) we would be a lot healthier. Both mentally and physically. If we were we’d find it much easier to discuss our bodies (and bodily functions) with each other and especially with the medical profession — something which doesn’t cause me a problem. As an example I had to visit my (very nice, lady) GP a few days ago because of a problem with my male equipment. I had no problem whatsoever being examined or talking to her about it. Why should I? My GP has seen and heard it all before; probably so often she is bored stupid by it. Isn’t it better I get a possible problem checked out now rather that leave it to become a serious problem later? You still hear so many stories of people who, for whatever imagined reason, “don’t like” to get things checked out and hence end up with major medical problems or worse. It just isn’t worth it.

We need to normalise nudity, and sex, not marginalise and criminalise them.

Really where is the problem?

personal, pleasures

Reasons to be Grateful: 35

Experiment, week 35. Another week in the continuing experiment and at long last it has been a bit different …

Well for a start it’ been weeing down with rain almost all week. Oh, there’s no change there then.

And secondly we had a quick night away in Somerset which has provided four of this week’s five pleasures: (1) Hilary Spurling’s lecture, (2) La Bisalta, (3) the Archangel; all of these you can read a bit more about in my earlier blog post.


La Bisalta

Then (4) people who enjoy and are interested in their job. I was especially struck by the pair who were serving breakfast in the hotel. The young man was a professional bar-tender and had made it his business to learn all he could, including about food, and was interested enough to be helping out on his day off. The young lady was a trained chef. Her boyfriend was obviously the hotel chef and they had agreed not to work in the kitchen together (very sensible!); so she was learning the front of house stuff (she even checked us out!) so she had the skills when they were able to start their own business. Unlike many chefs she was seriously interested in food. They weren’t busy so we had an interesting conversation. They, together with the staff at La Bisalta, were friendly and welcoming. It’s such a refreshing change!

So then to (5) Strawberries and Raspberries. We bought both on this week’s shopping trip because they looked good, were known to be good varieties — which is also a refreshing change — and were English. No need for cream, they were delightful enough all on their own for Saturday breakfast.