Off tonight on a small birding trip to Maredmilli forests in East Godavari.
Whether three days or ten, the things that have to be taken have to be taken. They are laid out on the bed now, waiting to be ticked off and put in. I had an accident years ago that hurt my back. I’m perfectly alright now but every time I have to pack, the psychosomatic pain kicks in – a small part in the lumbar region protests very vehemently as if to tell me, ‘What the heck are you thinking? Who do you think is going to carry that? Me!’ It disappears though the minute I finish packing and carry the bag to test weight and balance.
There is a depression developing off the Bay of Bengal, and there is a skulking feeling we will be huddled under the eaves for at least part of this trip. There are enough of us to make even that fun though.
That happened once in Nizamabad. We arrived at the bus stand to torrential rain, waded through swirling waters to get at lunch. Later, while the drizzle made it difficult to bring the binoculars out, we braved it anyway to go sightseeing. There is a rather nice fort there with a koofiya underground path and everything. Turned out to be a day for places of worship: we counted a mosque, an old Shiva temple built by the Satavahanas and a church, and finished with hot mirchi bajjis. Then the skies cleared and we had two days of breathtaking birding.
That’s that. Ta, then.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
drone...
There is work, of course, but I'm feeling wonderfully lazy today. A nice feeling that the world is out there, with innumerable adventures lying in wait, if I should feel like venturing out and taking them on.
Incidentally this new blogger has developed an annoying habit - it deletes the selected word and the word after it, leaving odd gaps in the text, and if you don't reread and set about filling what you'd already typed in, you sound like an incoherent idiot. As you will have gathered there is no point to this - just time on my hands and no thoughts at all. Very much 'Dear Diary'. I hardly ever type right into the draft box, do you? It's mostly Word first, except when I'm trying out the Devnagri, of course.
I have discovered author Mary Stewart. Recommended to me by someone who also liked Georgette Heyer and I looked in all the usual places for anything by her and it turned out to be a case of' 'diya tale andhera' because I finally found them with Nishu. I don't quite know if it works like that, that people who like this writer will like that one. I suppose it does; affinities exist after all. At any rate people at the Literature Map seem to think so.
I have stumbled over a quirk in myself I didn't know existed. I tend to linger over my morning coffee in a rather ritualistic manner and I like to read. I usually run mental fingers over my options and sit down reading quietly for a goodish while before I can face the day and people. Not the newspapers but preferably fiction. Now I find I can only read women over morning coffee. I told Sudha when I realised this and she laughed. Like I needed another neuroticism.
Incidentally this new blogger has developed an annoying habit - it deletes the selected word and the word after it, leaving odd gaps in the text, and if you don't reread and set about filling what you'd already typed in, you sound like an incoherent idiot. As you will have gathered there is no point to this - just time on my hands and no thoughts at all. Very much 'Dear Diary'. I hardly ever type right into the draft box, do you? It's mostly Word first, except when I'm trying out the Devnagri, of course.
I have discovered author Mary Stewart. Recommended to me by someone who also liked Georgette Heyer and I looked in all the usual places for anything by her and it turned out to be a case of' 'diya tale andhera' because I finally found them with Nishu. I don't quite know if it works like that, that people who like this writer will like that one. I suppose it does; affinities exist after all. At any rate people at the Literature Map seem to think so.
I have stumbled over a quirk in myself I didn't know existed. I tend to linger over my morning coffee in a rather ritualistic manner and I like to read. I usually run mental fingers over my options and sit down reading quietly for a goodish while before I can face the day and people. Not the newspapers but preferably fiction. Now I find I can only read women over morning coffee. I told Sudha when I realised this and she laughed. Like I needed another neuroticism.
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