Iznibz lives in a world of iz own...

" ARMTHORPE! "

I play bodhran, An Irish drum beaten with a single stick.I love it, if they knew what a buzz could be had,they would ban it. I was playing in the street at the Ballina Flaedh, a music festival, some years ago, the town was teaming with people from all over the world.Unplugged , it is hard to hear acoustic music over the background noise in the street, I was grateful for an accommodating archway to amplify my sound.The arch lead from the street to a small courtyard, the seething crowd ,in a high state of merriment, passed by on only one side, an ideal pitch. As I played my drum,a crowd gathered round the entrance to the arch, eventually blocking the street completely. In the last days of the Irish Punt, A lovely coin,a thing with a ring when they threw their money down,and throw it down they did with much enthusiasm. On reaching climactic crescendo, the crowd whooped and cheered. A tidy man in lightweight "holiday tweeds", a silver bearded fellow who had stood in the front row of onlookers fairly inanimately throughout the performance, suddenly bellowed the word, "ARMTHORPE! " I had stopped playing,the street was moving again. I approached him with some curiosity,he stood his ground, not appearing to want to move on,he looked happy enough. I asked him what had caused him to shout "Armthorpe". The man told me he didn't have a clue, I asked if he knew the place at all.To which he remarked that he had until he had shouted out the word, never heard of it ever in his living memory. He had no explanation as to why he was so moved.
Armthorpe is an ex mining village in Yorkshire,England. The colliery, Markham Main once employed my father and until its' closing also employed my youngest brother. I had left the region some thirty odd years previously as a teenager,I was not a happy child during my upbringing there. I had no contact with anyone from there for many years.
Hearing the word came like a thunderbolt. Offering no conclusive judgement on the implications of an otherwise unremarkable incident,the man doffed his hat said happy goodbyes and walked away into the festival crowd.What happened there?My curiosity leads me down many avenues of conjecture,implausable, improbable and impossible.
If anyone out there,reading this has a rational explanation of what may have transpired I would be glad to receive comment.The mystery remains.

IZ STACKED...!

Stone Journey...

In need of many more tonnes of stone, the space iz getting organized in preparation for construction. All stones graded and sorted by shape and size, placed accessibly close to where they will be needed.Sketching with stones rather than applying pencil to paper iz more practical , it offers an internal overview of the serving infrastructure.
The context of a bespoke domain,must fit the life that it iz designed to support.The function of the infrastructure must not over ride the needs of environmental base.
I have just been stacking next years firewood. we now have many oak saplings being raised in the garden, for replanting later. A small harvest of hazelnuts will produce some dozens of plants for regenerating the utility woodland, some for hedging around the field as well as providing a modest feast of good sweet nuts.
Five kilos of beautiful tomatoes are added to the five already waiting to be bottled or frozen, some of the cuttings salvaged from the spring pruning are also now bearing fruit. peach stones from fruit eaten last year are now delicate little trees,between one and three feet high,no bug damage,every leaf perfect.
Ground has been prepared in anticipation for expanding the strawberry bed. Small batches of conserve get made between sessions of tomatoes, filling the kitchen with a divine perfume.
The story of the stones continues,many images will appear on the Flickr photostream.
The coco bean photo story celebrating a wonderfully productive vegetable will also be posted.
I can't imagine that this blog will ever get read by anyone.I'm not pushing it. It's a long term project. Mudskool iz a growing reality. The pioneering ground breaking iz heavy
work.Slow but steady forward. Resources accumulate ahead of the construction. I long to leave this modernised dwelling behind. It iz most inefficient for use of energy and comfort.The traditional charm of the original building has been rationalised and straightened out. Sacrificing comfort for sterile convenience meks no sense to me.
The roundhouse iz to be my escape vehicle to a permanent state of sustainable development. The Izdom of Iz.
While you are watching this space the future has already happened. It iz unplugged.
You will no doubt eventually get a Google view of the goings on here, I will ensure for your edification and delight that the pictures will be most elegant.
This blog iz just an exhaust portal from the on going Izziness.Don't hold your breath for too long.Go outside, breath some fresh air,stretch your working muscles and perhaps get your fingernails dirty.You could roll a menhir around your garden or take one for a long walk, a small menhir would serve. I will move some stones today,I will finish stacking the wood.I'll dance with my hoe for an hour or two,heavy weeding on the haie.

Iz boots...

Crisis in the Izdom of Iz. The pride and joy of Iznibz's feet, iz size thirteen Argyll wellies, are failing after not six months of active use. It has to be a manufacturing fault. The seams don't overlap, the boot is being held together by the fabric lining at the moment. The crisis comes as a result of they being my only footwear. Unwaged but fully immersed in my work, I wasn't planning on taking time out to hustle for replacement kit. On a bad day they look like they'ed out live me, at the very least they should have lasted the life of the job. I don't believe the wearing out (breaking down) iz caused by my working uncommonly hard, I have always worked uncommonly hard,quite a large proportion of the time in wellington boots. Argylls wuz famous for "doing the do", Like Iznibz duz, with little complaint from the inland navigators. Chance that I can get them replaced without the formality of sending them back, they may not be waterproof now but the soles are still valued protection against shards of schist rock.
I have taken a photo that seems (?) to illustrate well the point of complaint.I just can't afford to be without working feet for the week or so that it would take for a replacement to be returned. My dilemna.It looks painful for me no matter what I do, by standard procedure. The discomfort, the nuisance and expense, not to say the disappointment after much product loyalty,will have to be borne by me.I hope the Hunter Boot Company will exercise a little humane initiative on this one, damage limitation being the object.
This was to be a combination of stone journey news, they are moving, earthworks progress and a vegged out praise singing of the seasons bounty so far in the garden.
I will do a bit more outside first. Oh Luck, It is raining, quite heavily too.Leaking wellies iz a most insecure feeling. I'll be coming in soon then.
A man, reluctant to work iz easily prejudged to be lazy, few would think to blame iz wellies. I'm resolved to return to barefoot gardening once the heavy work iz done.

Bladderack.

I will be making more piles like this strategically about the garden. The seaweed will desalinate in the rain, it sits on a layer of sand covering the schist. The stone ring separates the soil from the salt. The ground slopes upwards from the circle centre. A large doughnut of cultivated earth surrounds A healthy plate full of holistic nourishment. A perfect soil conditioner, balanced mineral and trace element, the best iodine source.Helps hold water in fast draining ground. "It iz essential." Sez Iznibz. So it iz.What's good for the soil iz good for the cabbage iz good for the man.
Iodized cabbage, number one in cancer prevention and an aid to iron absorbtion.

Carnac.

To the coast to collect seaweed,for the garden.Visited the alignment. I was surprised by a gentian, I shouldn't have been.

We will take larger containers next time.

What means this? This means this.

Gentian.

Iz in...