Hayfever strikes . . . . some recent newspaper articles

Coinciding with a tv advert in which pollen is depicted bursting out from all manner of plants, my annual occurrence of hayfever has exploded in the last couple of days. I had been hoping that working at the allotment would boost my tolerance - but probably the opposite is the case. So despite having been taking for the last three weeks the very product being advertised on tv, I am having several acute sneezing fits a day and am left with a throat that is now raw (probably exact how it would feel at high altitude if I ever manage to do my trip to Mera Peak)

But more of a concern is that I have been incredibly tired recently - something that I have only just begun to attribute to my daily tablets. Indeed, three weeks ago I was so tired each morning that I was often forced back to bed for a 30 minutes nap mid morning. A change of brand seemed to clear this up, but now I am getting the same effect from the new one. As a result, productivity is markedly down - a short burst of work is followed by a period reading something less taxing. Not ideal it must be said.

Some of this less taxing reading consists of working through the current pile of press cuttings I have on the floor of the study at home. I have done this for years - mainly as an abstract form of diary keeping - to look back on what interested me at the time. But like videoing tv shows, buying or downloading loads of other things, etc, this is also an excuse to avoid reading the article at the time. Keep it and I'll read it later . . .

But my enforced slow down has lead me to many gems including -

a piece on how awful it was to grow up with hippy parents;

writing as a cure for depression;

reviews of dozens of books I have already forgotten (and which now reside in my Amazon wishlist);

quite a few pieces by Naomi Wolf whose The Treehouse has been a frequent read over the last two or three years and who I continue to find incredibly sexy;

many examples from the "writer's room" series in The Guardian;

a surprisingly large number of articles about art, downshifting, and themes from the philosophy of life (perhaps these are really the main thing I read from the mainstream media);

many articles tapping in to a perceived post-credit-crunch pursuit of authenticity;

lots of travel articles (the other day I was thinking to myself just how many travel books I have bought over the years, yet how poor my own travel has been - afterall, the guy who mows our lawns has been the himalayas yet I haven't - amazing);

virtually nothing on any aspect of current affairs;

examples of what I take to be really badly argued claims;

a really brilliant article by Emma Kennedy about crap holidays in the 1970s which has turned me to her book "The tent, the bucket and me" which is my current last-thing-at-night reading in bed;

Seperate interviews with Isabelle Hupert and Gillian Anderson - both of whom I also continue to find incredibly sexy;

Some obituaries, such as Rupert Hall, Marie Baos Hall (strange them dying within such a short period of one another), Arne Naess, and so on;

And so on . . . ..

From just this weekend -

a piece by David Stubbs wondering why people admire abstract modern art but hate abstract modern music (doesn't consider neurology, which I would have said was a major factor, sound being closely linked to rational thought);

a review of Steve Knopper's "Appetite for Self-destruction. The Spectacular Crash of the Record Industry in the Digital Age" (which I have ordered from Amazon and hope will arrive before my trip to Spain in a week's time);

a highly critical article by an Indian writer on yoga in the west;

a piece on anxiety as the leading mental health problem in the West;

something by Chris Stewart about living near Orgiva where we held one of our breaks last year;

a piece on the conversion of Dandridge Mill in East Hanney just down the road from us;

a brilliant article by Rosie Boycott on materialism which contains many points which could be said to form the current dividing lines between Linda and myself (Linda says she hasn't time to read it - an interesting response);

and finally, from today's paper, an obituary of the astanga yoga teacher Pattabhi Jois who has died aged 93 - a good age to go I feel.