Happy halloween.

Yes... he loves it.

First off however, it needed grading out to get rid of the slope that prevented the yard from ever being used as a living space... a job for a bloke with a Bobcat.

I have started to plan things out in sketchup. Its from Google, it's free and its totally nuts.

The t&g siding on the side of the "barn" is a wreck, so I plan to loose the window and put a big slider around the back with a small deck. I want to re-side the barn with flat siding and paint it out with a trompe garden (ditto with the fence) blurring the join to make the brain take the illusion for granted. This is going to be fun!

I got a chance to get above for look down on it all this morning.

I got in to Black Rock City early Friday, jumping right into work.

Everything was going like a dream with the pavilion opening to the public by 6pm Monday night.
That night we had a total lunar eclipse and settled down to watch in lounge chairs. In mid eclipse there was a huge roar from the playa that I assumed was a reaction to the eclipse.

NO! IT WAS THE MAN BURNING!!!

Some nut had climbed inside the Man and set fire to him.

At daybreak, my boss and designer of the Man, Rod Garret, went to survey the damage. The pavilions and eco tech instalations are Ok, but the Man is toast.

From there, we went to an emergency meeting to decide what to do. Within 10 minutes a plan had been forged to build a new Man within 72 hours, turning this catastrophy into a triumph. This is also a great lesson for Ursula to take on board.

When the Man finally burns on Saturday night, there will be a huge release of primal energy that will be beyond belief.

This may be the best year ever.

Here are some live video links...
http://137.110.118.254/live.sdp (Web cast)
http://www.current.tv/burningman/

So went the war cry this morning as we set off looking for tame falcons, bloody gypsys, boring cricket, disolusioned abbeys, sunbathing cows and er... stepping stones. And what do you know? We found them all!

In no particular order, this blog entry is just an excuse to show you some lovely pickies.
(As always, any of these images can be clicked to get full resolution).

I'm going to shove this nature and culture thing down her throat if it bloody kills her/me. Hey it worked for me. Thanks again Dad.

I was an active crew member with Greenpeace for years as an young man and am very bothered by the FOE attitude. For years they have been demanding solar and wind alternatives, and now it is finally here they now piss and moan. It seems that they need something to be against (very negative) and have become part of the problem.

The dinner at "The Ram" was fabulous. I had a awesome mint lamb, and Florence a leviathan sized piece of cod. The light again was magic.... I wish I could get this atmosphere into my suitcase. At least I know where to find it.

I was in a cold place. Snow and ice stretched to the horizon and I was with a small group.
At some point I was free diving, no gear. I don't even remember wearing a mask.
At first the water was shallow and hardly deep enough to float my body, but I struggled using my hands to crawl along the rocky bottom. Then the bottom dropped away and I took one last gulp of air before kicking away from the surface and gliding towards the deep. At some point I passed through a boundary layer and what I thought of as clear water above, now by comparison seemed clouded and turbulent and still connected to the surface.

This was different. Sapphire blue unimaginably clear, it continued to infinity in all directions like blue outer space. Far, far below I could sense rather than see vast creatures moving and their subsonic communication vibrated through me. They felt wise and peaceful. I slipped through the water effortlessly and seemed to be able to breath the water itself. It washed through my lungs an sinuses, ice cold and saturated with oxygen. There was no sense of drowning but that it nourished me.

I reluctantly headed back for the surface, not because I needed to but that I didn't want to worry anyone waiting at the surface.

I have no idea what this all means, but it left an impression strong enough to blog.

I feel great this morning. Utterly rested and very very peaceful.

The people are gone. The old church is locked the candles blown out and the flowers placed in the memorial garden. The house is quiet.

It was a perfect day. A balance of joy and sorrow that felt... right.

My Fathers coffin was carried into the 900 year old St Jame's Church by six firemen and a fire engine stood sentinel outside, it's day-glo orange starkly contrasting the green of the trees.

Inside the church the organ set a scene of reverence as Dad was rested in the alter. Ursula struggled from my hand and went up to the coffin placing a single buttercup she had picked from the churchyard next to the cellophaned wreaths.
Father Nevil gave me the nod to say my piece and I read my eulogy and one from my sister . I took a deep breath and listened to my words echoing through the nave of the church. I don't quite know how I managed it.. I think I had a little help.

I urge you to download and read the eulogy here.Download file

After the service we went to the crematorium but stopped by the fire station first. In an unbelievable moment, they brought my Father through the back of the engine house, the crews forming bowed ranks. After a short pause, they sounded the turnout alarm and my fathers casket rolled forward into the sunshine and on its way to his "last fire". .... not a dry eye.

At the crematorium I piped my Father into the chapel (more help here) and gave the old chieftain a "proper sending off" playing the traditional lament "flowers of the forest". This moment of tribute may have been the reason that I learned to play the pipes in the first place.

We love you Dad. We will miss you, and yet you will always be close.

As a Scottish family and especially because my Father was himself a piper, I need to play the pipes at the service to give the old chieftain "a proper sending off". My pipes are however in California so I need to borrow a set.

Trevor Stokes, the pipe major of my old pipe band, has been kind enough to offer to lend me his set, so Ursula and I attended band practice last night to pick them up and see some old piping friends.

It must be something in the blood, but as the band struck in Ursula was "fair frothing at the mouth" to get into the action. As I held her back I could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her eyes danced wildly.

You can't keep that sort of spirit bridled for long, so I stuck her in the back rank of the drum section, gave her a few pointers on marking rank and counter marching and let her go for it.
The youngest member of the band is 10 year old Callum, a prize winning drummer of insane natural talent, and he set Ursula up with drum sticks and she became the newest member of the band (don't get used to the drums baby, you are going to be a piper whether you want to or not.)

The end of practice was concluded with the band playing "Abide with me" for my Father..phew, big stuff.

Ursula has been displaying infinate patience and love with the events going on around her.. she needed a change of scene.

She had never been into a cave before and was rather nonplussed at the suggestion, but as soon as we got away from the daylight she got with the program and became a intrepid spelunker scurrying from chamber to chamber with echoing "oos" and "ahhs".

The formation of Stump Cross Caverns began millions of years ago, when the area which is now the Yorkshire Dales was covered by oceans. Sediment from the ocean floor would eventually form limestone. Underground streams found their way into the cracks and began to expand the cave system. Once the streams had gone from the upper levels of the valley the cave system was left behind, and the mineral structures that are present today slowly began to form as water dripped through the caverns. The caves were then discovered in 1860 by miners who looking for lead seams in the Yorkshire Dales.

Our journey into realm of Orpheus was breathtaking. A five foot pillar takes 250,000 years to make and when you see a large chamber it is hard to get your head around the time that nature invested into this jewel box.

On the return to the surface she exclaimed, "I will never forget this". Boom! Perfect day.

I can't write much now, but some lines from Burns my Father often quoted are strong with me now.

(our time) is like the poppies spread,
one moment bloom, then next it's shed.
Or like a snowflake in the river,
one moment white, then gone forever.
(Robert Burns.)

Dad was a great reader of gravestones and said that it reminded him that the time here is fleeting and precious. He told me that when one reads the dates of a persons life we may see 1926-2007, but it is not the dates themselves but the " - " in the middle that is important bit.

Maybe we should take a little time today to think about how to make our own " - " spectacular.

He will always be with me.

It isn't difficult to understand why this little island groans with painters and poets.

Today, St. Mary's Primary School, Oswaldtwistle was increased... by 1.

With her Marshall elementary school uniform proudly being worn, the "yanky kid" was the big hit of the day.

After introductions and a little information about Ursula's hometown, they enjoyed a music class followed by a shop keeping exercise with the children taking turns to figure the price of the goods that they bought and make the correct change for the customer. Ursula's big complaint was that ALL the kids wanted to sit next to her, leaving her feeling a little hounded, and that the day wasn't long enough ( she was only there for the afternoon). She is however looking forward to tomorrow and cementing the friendships that she made today.

And Ursula's overall impression of British schools?..... "English kids pretend to make farting noises too!"

Plus Ça Change, Plus C'est La Même Chose.

First however, we had to pass my favorite view in the world. As a SF Bay resident you would think that my vista quotient would have been blunted by the majestic panorama of the Bay from Grisly Peak, but the view of Whalley Nab and Longridge Fell left me awestruck as a schoolboy and its effect is just as powerful today. Its face changes clock and season round, and is God's secret present to herself.

The Norman castle keep of Clitheroe has dominated the skyline for more than 800 years since being built around 1186 by Robert de Lacy to protect the administrative center of his vast estates, and is said to be the second smallest keep in England.

The views of from the old castle walls are breathtaking, as is the walk up the hill. We have more and bigger castles to come but this was a nice jaunt and a lovely day with my favorite sidekick.