Richard Hughes
@tevildopofc
Nobody at all.
Huge shout out to Chloe dog, and Theo and Possum cats for demanding and enforcing daily routine. It’s been stressful lately, holding on until the next job happens, and routine is a lifesaver.
That’s daunting. But then I remember what that old, mainstream life was. Constant stress, zero satisfaction, always on the brink of financial ruin with no end in sight. I’m glad I walked away. This at least means something.
In which our hero plunges into formal Vegetation Condition Assessment.
Tbh I was seeing our AI-driven end like this: there would have been more dignity in it.
Northern Pacific Sea Stars are spawning like crazy in the Huon estuary.
“Gandalf snuffed the air and looked back. ‘Winter deepens behind us,’ he said quietly to Aragorn. ‘The heights away north are whiter than they were; snow is lying far down their shoulders.’”
Right, “Ocean of Peace” might be more accurately translated as “Sao Cracker of Hot Jizz”, but this inclusion is fascinating to see…
Shortly after beginning this course in natural environments and conservation, I asked my tutor if there’s a lifetime’s work still to do around the lower Huon. The answer was an emphatic yes. Now I’m seeing how rich and diverse this place is, and I’m beginning to understand.
In which our hero’s eyes begin opening to just how strange and beautiful this is.
Returning from a river walk to be greeted by the sound of Mrs Tevildo’s ‘cello :)
In which our hero walks the dog while Mrs Tevildo bakes her famous scones for after the village choir’s performance.
Unexpected turn of events: our hero receives a prize for a Uni course. Trilobite fossil casts, because it was for geology.
This isn’t just a pet but an exquisitely sensitive guardian and hunter. If she says there’s trouble ahead, I listen. Bless your alert and protective heart, big girl.
To the pine-trees upon the highland of Dorthonion I climbed in the Winter. Ah! the wind and the whiteness and the black branches of Winter upon Orod-na-Thôn! My voice went up and sang in the sky. Words by Tolkien, photo by Mrs Tevildo
The author’s note in Christa Wolf’s A Model Childhood is terrifying.