Sunday, 18 September 2011

different

I am doing something different; blogging about my new hobby. Or rather, the resurrection of an old hobby. I used to have an aquarium. It was in use for a year or more, but when we moved out of UK 6 years ago, it went into storage; last week I finally stopped talking about it and dug it out. After cleaning it and checking all the bits were there, I realized it had a nasty crack in the base, so that was the end of that. Until a wonderful friend donated a 60L tank to me, and lots of advice to get me started. So, this is my learning curve so far. 1) Keep a towel handy. 2) fish less cycling. 3) use a raw prawn. 5) be patient.
I started by removing the old filter housing (courtesy of Mr.J and a guitar string), and ordering a new pump/filter online. I bought 4 plants, and set them up with some new gravel, an old piece of wood (from the deceased tank) and some leftovers from the two tanks (shells, coloured stones). I intend to get a bubbling Buddha head I have seen on eBay, so the tank vaguely resembles a tropical beach of ruins. Not just a ruined beach. I rinsed off all the new gravel in the bath, and began to put gravel and water into the tank. That's a lot of water, 60 litres. It weighs more than me.  Hope the cupboard is stable.
I belatedly see that next to the bed, while handy for the bathroom etc, is not handy for me when it comes to coffee, overnight water necessities, glasses and telephone resting place. hm. As long as I don't drink the fish.
Last thing at night, I added the heater/thermometer. Might need to move that around as I can't read the temperature. Apparently I need to 'whack it up' and encourage the bacteria/ammonia growth. This will be moved along rapidly when I add a dead shrimp/prawn. Not a cooked one as I stupidly thought today when I was shopping. It's Sunday, not many shops are open here. I must be patient... this is extremely hard for me, and therefore a very good lesson. I need to swot up as if I had an exam coming up, because it's very important I don't kill anything. I am not going to put in some expendable cheap fish either, as some people advise; imagine how painful it is for them to be in a hostile environment that stings eyes and skin? I am really trying to do it all 'properly' and not just because I want it to look all pretty. It has to function as a little world.
I am excited about this, so I won't apologize; everyone else in my family is good at something or has a talent, so maybe I can really succeed at this. (and be passionate about doing it right). I will try not to judge the grumpy woman in the local fishy emporium as she clumsily chucks a hapless little critter into a bag for a customer; maybe she is fed up with newbies? I will try not to fall haplessly in love with every finny thing, or imagine they need rescuing (when in truth, they may be worse off with ignorant me), I will try to go to as many shops/shows as I can and soak up knowledge on the way. Mostly I will try to learn. 

Wednesday, 7 September 2011

snuff

ok, getting this off my chest. I will NOT be commemorating 9/11. I will not be watching any films or documentaries, or interviews or reconstructions. I won't read a book about it, or a newspaper piece. I refuse to listen to or read any phone messages recorded at that time. I absolutely will not have anything to do with any of it. It's NOT entertainment, it's ghoulish and voyeuristic snuff. Why in (insert deity of choice) name would anyone find this enjoyable? Watching people die horribly, and not being able to help, or stop it happening, or change anything? If I had lost anyone on that day, would I really want to watch up close and personal accounts of it? If I had been there witnessing it, would I want to live through it again and again? It was bad enough 'live' at the time, but what is this cult of emotional incontinence doing to us? A world wide sob fest of inane drivel, and a thousand conspiracy theories, a hundred post mortems on what went wrong, and how can we stop it ever happening again.... what 'good' will any of it do? Boost sales of tissues? drive someone vulnerable to murder/assassination/suicide? Is grief not allowed to be private and dignified any more? Is this era of 'LIVE!' horror and inhumane atrocity beamed into your living room as it happens making us all into Disaster Tourists? Too many questions, I know, sorry. It's just driving me a little bit nuts, and I know sooner or later I am going to have to vent.. so please, don't ask me what I will be doing, or what I will be watching on that day. I will be attempting to live a quiet life, and if I should choose to pause in my daily routine and think of all those lives so pointlessly lost, let me do it in my own private way.