Mannerheim's tombstone

Detail from Mannerheim's tombstone
Originally uploaded by HyperBob.

Went to Hietaniemi graveyard today and took lots of pictures of chairs. Old chairs neglected, worn and rusted. Most of them were in the Orthodox part of the graveyard. No chairs were in the Jewish part and only one in the Islamic part. For a slideshow of all the chairs and benches go to Chairs and benches at Hietaniemi graveyard

There was a Jewish Graveyard which was walled in and the gate was locked. There were no new stones there, only old ones. What conclusions can you draw from that? There are no Jews in Helsinki, or they get buried some place else?

Behind the Jewish part is a large area for Muslims. It is guarded by video cameras. All of the graves in there are new, or at least none of the stones have gathered moss or lichen.



Jews and Muslims lying in peace what a dream. It would appear that muslims fought in the continuation war from 1939-44.





Mannerheim's tomb is enormous and a few steps away from it is a small cross for Gereral Ehrnrooth, who some say was a more inspiring man than Mannerheim.



Sloping away from Mannerheims tomb are the graves of the soldiers who died in the 2nd world war. Each grave has some sort of blood red fushia. The flowers look like drops of blood.

The is a special hill for artists. I saw Alver Aalto's grave and Akseli Gallen-Kalella. There is quite a few weird pagan like stones of Celtic or Norse origin.

I was told by a gardener they were put up around the turn of the century when Finnish people were considering their identity. Breaking free from Sweden and Russia. Taking new Finnish names and discovering their past.



Some of the stones are quite striking, but other monuments have been ravaged by the passage of time.

Falling down... tumbling ground

Wall of the KELA building


Went for an interview this morning at the employment office. They still wanted a final statement from EMBL. Excuse me hang on a second, I have given you copies of my contracts, which shows the times when each contract started and when it finnished. Isn't that enough?

"Yes but even though you show these contracts, you could have left before the time was up"

"But here is my last salary statement and the date on it agrees with the date on my final contract surely that is enough?

"Afraid not we need a proper statement of when you left and the reason for leaving"

Then we got down to the serious business of what my qualifications are and what kind of job I would be looking for.

"I see you have a M. Sc. in microbiology is that what you want to persue?

"Not really. I have not done wet lab work for the past 15 years. I have been involved in Bioinformatics and would like a job in that area.

"Bio what?

"Bioinformatics... it is a field that you use computers to work with DNA and Protein sequence data."

"So you are a Biochemist?"

"No I am not a biochemist"

The lady then scans thought he job opening at http://www.mol.fi and says

"Sorry we don't have anything listed under Bioinformatics"

"So there are no jobs for bioinformaticians?"

"I don't know since I don't know what bioinformatics is"

I take my life in my hands and ask her to open up the EBI website and to go to the SRS system. I explain about databases and DNA sequences and I even get her to display a PORIN molecule from the PDB database. I get her to view it with the MSDAstexViewer. The java window pops up and I get her to rotate the molecule and to view it from different angles.

"That is the kind of stuff that someone involved in bioinformatics would do. Does it make any more sence now?

"Not really... it looks very specialised, and perhaps not many people would be looking for skills like that?"

"So I have skills that nobody can use?"

"Well I will make a note on your records that you are specialised in bio... biowhatdoyoucallit"

"What types of jobs do you have then?"

"We have plenty of jobs in the cleaning sector."

Yep it may just come around to that, that I am over qualified for any job in Finland and I should take up a job as a cleaner. Not very confidence building.

"Can I ask you about E301?"

"We can't help you with that. That is KELA business."

"So what is the relationship between you and KELA?

"We give them a "statement" and then they decide wheather to pay you unemployment benifit or not"

"Well they want a E301 certificate and my previous employer says they can't give one and it is not relevant. I worked in the UK but was paid from EMBL which is based in Heidelburg Germany"

Her eyes glaze over. This is too much information for her. The Bioinformatician was a hard concept to grasp, an internationl organisation that has agreements with the British government, and does not pay tax is something she has never heard of. It sounds unreal. Bioinformatics is unbelievable, but this EMBL/EBI deal is a thousand times more difficult to understand.

Obviously the government offices are not briefed or equiped to handle such complicated cases. All they want is a E301 and they will be happy.

E301

So I go to Kela and fill in the forms trying to get unemployment benifit. Here is the sad news.

• If you belong to some union you could get 70% of you last wage.
• but that is if you have made contributions for 10 months.
• I only worked for 7 months so I would not get anything anyway.
• The basic daily rate that you could get is 24 euros per day.
• But you need to have been gainfully employed for the past 24 months.
• You need evidence that you have paid taxes by getting an E301 declaration.
• I have until the 10/10/2004 to get one.
• I worked in the UK for 9 years before coming to Finland.
• My salary was payed by EMBL in Germany.
• I worked for EBI in the UK.
• This is difficult for KELA to understand.
  
• I contact EMBL and ask for a E301
• They say it is not relevant, and I should just show my salary statements.
• I don' t think KELA will be impressed. They need a E301
  
• KELA has no guidlines for someone who has worked for an international organisation.
• Tomorrow I go to the employment exchange for an interview.

It feels like I have fallen between stools, and nobody knows quite how to handle my situation.

Arches

Did you ever wonder how an arch like this could be made. Well here is the method. Now get out there and build some arches



For more amazing arches go to Andy Goldsworthy Portfolio

Canada 3 - Finland 2

Drove downtown to get into the Sports Academy to watch the final of the ice hockey world cup. It started at 2:00 AM. I got there at 1:15. The queue to the upstairs section was enormous so I went to the downstairs line since it was shorter. Only as people came out of the door did they let new people in. I got to the front of the queue.

"Can't you let me in?"

"Sorry no space you will have to wait"

A group of "professional" hockey players barged to the front of the queue, their spokesman wanted a word with the doorman. I peered through the glass and the spokesman was shaking the hand of the doorman and pressing some Euro notes into his hand. In a second about 14 "professionals" were let in.

"How come they got in before me? I have been waiting here for nearly an hour"

"Professionals"

I finally got inside and started a conversation with a Finn who had studied in Hull. He knew all about Kingston Communications. A short stocky bloke about a foot shorter than the both of us comes up and offers us a Gin drink each. We accept.

"Do you know each other?"

"No we only came here for the match"

"Are you sure you don't know each other. You are talking english, and seem to be very familiar with each other"

"No we have never met before"

"Are you hetro?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are you homo then?"

He was edging closer so the toes of his shoes were touching mine, and his beer belly was rubbing against the knuckles of the hand I was holding the bottle in. Involuntarily I pulled my hand from my pocket, and showed him my wedding rings and told him I was married. I think that upset him. There was a nasty curl to his lip and a piggy squint in his eyes.

I expect he was intent on some gay bashing and was looking to pick a fight, but the display of the wedding rings sort of screwed with his plan. From the look in his eye it was apparent that he did not like to be thwarted, not by a hetro or a homo. As soon as he turned his back and moved away to put his bottle down on the counter. I was gone. I disappeared. I'm a lover not a fighter. I'm built for speed.

I managed to persude the bouncer to let me go upstairs, and there I took some pictures and reactions to the match. There was great excitement and also great disappointment. Finland were always coming from behind. Killer goals from Canada at the beginning of the 1st and 3rd rounds brought gasps of dismay from the crowd. The second Finnish goal was magnificent and brought the crowd to their feet and gave them hope, but in the end it was not enough. More photos can be found in my Photolog

I crawled into bed at 5:00 in the morning, and decided I am not a night person.

It is too dangerous and too expensive. Some people took it hard and some people were more relaxed about the defeat.


What match???

Photo of market man

There was an autumn market on Saturday. I took a picture of "marketman" I took it as he was leaving. He noticed me doing it and was rather angry. I walked away quickly.

Why was he angry, becasue I captured his fatness, becasue he had not shaved, because his T-shirt was dirty, because he was collecting benifits from the government and was not supposed to be working on the side.

I think he was angry about the invasion of his privacy. If he had been Brad Pitt he would have jumped out of the lorry and trashed my head in, but since he was fat and had to move around with a walking stick I could make my get-away with ease.

Taking pictures of buildings, or ducks or blowup giraffes is OK. They do not complain about invasion of privacy. Ferns bask in the sunlight, onions piruette on their braid, reflections and shadows invite themselves to be captured on film. But people are offended. People demand privacy.

On going though the shoping centre I saw a mentally disturbed man eating a do-nut in a demented fashion. I passed on an did not take his picture.

Job's sad song

The Sire Of Sorrow by Joni Mitchell

Let me speak let me spit out my bitterness-
Born of grief and nights without sleep and festering flesh
Do you have eyes?
Can you see like mankind sees?
Why have you soured and curdled me?
Oh you tireless watcher! What have I done to you?
That you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?
Once I was blessed; I was awaited like the rain
Like eyes for the blind, like feet for the lame
Kings heard my words, and they sought out my company
But now the janitors of Shadowland flick their brooms at me
Oh you tireless watcher! What have I done to you?
that you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?

(Antagonists: Man is the sire of sorrow)
I've lost all taste for life
I'm all complaints
Tell me why do you starve the faithful?
Why do you crucify the saints?
And you let the wicked prosper
You let their children frisk like deer
And my loves are dead or dying, or they don't come near

(Antagonists: We don't despise your chastening
God is correcting you)
Oh and look who comes to counsel my deep distress
Oh, these pompous physicians
What carelessness!

(Antagonists: Oh all this ranting all this windFilling our ears with trash)
Breathtaking ignorance adding insult to injury!
they come blaming and shaming
(Antagonists: Evil doer)
And shattering me

(Antagonists: This vain man wishes to seem wise
A man born of asses)
Oh you tireless watcher! What have I done to you?
That you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?
(Antagonists: We don't despise your chastening)
Already on a bed of sighs and screams
And still you torture me with visions
You give me terrifying dreams!
Better I was carried from the womb straight to the grave
I see the diggers waiting, they're leaning on their spades

(Antagonists: Man is the sire of sorrow
Sure as the sparks ascend)
Where is hope while you're wondering what went wrong?
Why give me light and then this dark without a dawn?
(Antagonists: Evil is sweet in your mouth
Hiding under your tongue)
Show your face!
(Antagonists: What a long fall from grace)
Help me understand!
What is the reason for your heavy hand?
(Antagonists: You're stumbling in shadows
You have no name now)
Was it the sins of my youth?
What have I done to you?
That you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true?

(Antagonists: Oh your guilt must weigh so greatly)
Everything I dread and everything I fear come true
(Antagonists: Man is the sire of sorrow)
Oh you make everything I dread and everything I fear come true

My love is like...

This moring I picked a rose for my wife, and I recited Burns' Poem to her from the heart. I got stuck at the line as fair art thou my bonie lass and could not go on. Bonie lass is so scottish, and so full of terms of endearment. I nearly got a kiss for trying though.

O, my luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June
O, my luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune
As fair art thou, my bonie lass
So deep in luve am I
And I will luve thee still, my Dear
Till a' the seas gang dry
Till a' the seas gang dry, my Dear
And the rocks melt wi' the sun!
O I will luve thee still, my Dear
While the sands o' life shall run

Is there anybody out there?

Eddie Izzard was on a local radio station in Scotland. It was a chat programme. He waited for someone to call in. Nobody called. He said £5 to the first person to call. Nobody called. He upped the amount to £10. Nobody called.

He then offered a tenth of whatever fee he was getting for the show. Nobody called. He then offered the whole fee. Nobody called.

He upped the ante and offered all of the money in his current account. Nobody called. He gave out the precise details of his bank account. Nobody called

He came to the conclusion that the radio was broadcasting and nobody was listening.

I fear it is the same with Blogging. I write and nobody reads. I guess that is the fate of the majority of bloggers.

I made a new blog of complete nonsence called Gardener Guy

I have had two coments in it. Eddie Izzard eat your heart out

Robert Burns (1759-1796)

From "man was made to mourn"

But see him on the edge of life
with cares and sorrows torn,
then age and want - that ill matched pair
prove man was made to mourn.

So here I am unemployed in Finland and getting no money from Kela as yet. The season of mellow fruitfulness is closing in. The leaves of the lily of the valley flowers in the forest are turning yellow. The rose hips are turning red. Seeds are forming on flower-heads. Everything is ripening.

In England they will have harvest festivals in churches.

In Finland the summer-houses will be tidied up for the end of the season and the platforms will be pulled from the cooling water of the lakes. The rowing boats will be turned over and stored away for the winter. Everything is being packed up and stowed away.

Jungle of weeds or garden of Eden

Nature is wild if you don't get it under control. The green stuff just shoots up and the weeds and nettles and thistles swamp everything. But somethimes it does look lovely in its wildness. Weeds seem to get on well with each other. They leave space, they give support, they festoon, they garland, they bedeck, they spead. Weeds must have a purpose. It is just that we have never discovered it.



Then again there are some weeds that just seeth and spit at you. They are snarling nasty, with thousands of seeds ready to attack the earth and make your life a misery. They explode and shoot them selves in the air. They stick to your clothes. The have their own little parachutes and spread themselves afar. They are colonisers. They go to land that is free. Weeds are like refugees. Always being uprooted, and everybody attempts to irradicate them. They are always looking for new land.

But if you are an old woman from Irak you have grown beans that can compete with the weeds. You wear an apron and gather the beans into it. Beans are for old lazy gardeners. Beans are for people who understand weeds and leave them alone. Beans fix fitrogen from the atmosphere and improve the fertility of the soil. Bart Simpson knew all about beans. "Beans Beans the musical fruit the more you eat the more you toot" Beans have 28% protein in them as have all legumes. They are better for you than beef-steak says the man from the USAD as he chomps on his T-bone. Beans are good for refugees. Fillet steak for everyone else in the West.



If you are a muslim man from Irak you can rest under Koff sunshade, and be impervious to the fact that it is an advert for beer. Water the marrows plant the celery, harvest the radishes. Cook chicken in a hole in the ground and smoke a hooka. Embrace your friends with a hug and go into the bushes to pray to mecca. The sun is good. The weather is fine. The children will be fed with fresh vegatables. If only it was always summer and the nights long, and the air better than a meal.



If you are a hippy you can build an arch and decorate it with flowers. You can make it to frame the Jet petrol station, and every time you look though it another car will break down, and every time you walk though it ten more people will use public transport. An as the petals and leaves fall from the flowers another oil well will run dry.

Vile rodents

See this is what you get. Your potatoes eaten by some rodent. Some vermin creeping about in the dark of night burrowing in the ground and eating your potatoes. Not eating it whole but munching here and there. Nibbiling with their nasty little teeth. Eyes bigger than their bellies.

Naw they are lovely little things. Just like wasps and scorpions, and vampire bats and slugs and snails, and spiders and fire ants. Looks like nature takes what it wants and leave the rest.



But some preditors are bigger than others. They come with forks and dig up basketfuls of potatoes and carry them away. They will only let them rot is some damp basement and will never be able to eat them all. Greedy vermin these humans!!!

LWIII

Loudon Winwright III Cambridge Concert

The man himself performing White Winos and the Presidents song. Well worth watching. The first song about his dog is funny.

Why should you listen to Loudon Wainwright.

• You too will be old one day
• You will know the things old people do to survive
• You will realise it is OK to be old
• You will know it is OK to be grumpy
• You will experiance the pain of getting old.
• You will realise that getting up to pee at three is normal
• You will come to understand the truism that you will be fired before you can quit.
• You will know the imposibility of keeping contact with those you used to care for.
• You can relax and think somebodies got a shittier life than me.
• He will make you smile.
  

Tree of life

Trees come into flower. Bees move pollen from stigma to stamen. There is fertilization  and the fruit ripens.

Someone or something will eat the fruit. Seeds will be spread. New trees will grow. New fruit will be formed.

Simple?

Clinging on for dear life

Lichen does not grow to be big and noticable. It is flat on the surface of a stone. The yellowish colour must come from chlorophyl. It gets its energy from sunlight and carbon dioxide, and perhaps some minerals from the rock.

Lichens love a sunny day,  as do most living things.

I will sit on my balcony and enjoy the sunset.

Life and death

The tree was covered with a grey web. Most of the leaves had been eaten by caterpillers. A colony of them had formed a grey sack like object. There must have been a few hundred caterpillers in the web. They had made a good job of killing off the tree.

A bird came and picked them off the web one by one. It flew back to its nest to feed its young.

Everything has a time to die, and there is a purpose for everything under heaven.

How did the white stone get here

Took a photo of a line of big heavy stones. They were all neatly laid out in a row. In the line up was a white stone. Different from the red granite to be found on Ahvenamaa.

Had the sea lifted it and gently placed it in line?

Life in the extreme

I took a photo of a daisy. It was growing on a platform down by the sea. It had no soil to grow in. No source of nutrition. Yet it was in full bloom.

Marvellous

Heart Dye

The nurses chatter amongst themselves... they break out a "pack of three". Catheters that is... not condoms. It is too exhausting to try and explain the joke to them. An inscision is made in my thigh and a catheter if fed upwards towards my heart. Its progress is like a tapeworm in my artery.

The procedure goes on for half an hour, at the end of which time the doctor says you will feel some hot flush now. I think middle aged women. A hot flush spreads across my chest, and a second later I feel it in my genitals. The sensation in my chest is like downing a shot of single malt whiskey in one go.

Now comes the time to remove the catheter and to stop the artery from spurting your life's blood over the operation room floor. We are talking big arteries here. They have come prepared with a bean-bag full of lead shot which they will lay on the artery to stem the flow of blood.

The doctor then says "This is going to hurt for 10 seconds" and what you feel is something like a three pronged hook from a spinning reel being sunk into your thigh, and with the hooks firmly stuck in your flesh someone begins to reel you in. The tension on the fishing line becomes stronger and stronger, and your leg is a salmon fighting for it's life. The hook feels like it is torn from your leg, and the angioseal is now in place and with any luck you won't bleed to death.

I am wheeled back to the ward and told to keep my leg staight. I can't do anything else since trying to move it in any direction at all gives me pain.

I sleep and have a vauge memory of the doctor saying you don't have any coronary heart disease.

All in the family

Blood was taken from me four or five times a day. They are looking for cholesterol and heart enzymes and anything that will give a clue as to why the ECG should be abnormal. We get down to the family history and I am asked to tell the story how my mother died at the age of 35.

I must have been about 8 years old or there abouts. My mother comes in from the pictures and goes into the kitchen to boil some water for a hot water bottle because she is tired and wants to go to bed. She comes to the mirror in front of the sideboard and runs her fingers through her hair. She looses her grip on the hot water bottle and it falls on the floor. My dad takes her to bed. I am whisked off to my aunts. A week later she is dead and buried. I don't attend the funeral. The last memory I have of her is her brushing her hair from her forehead with her fingers.

After the death I go and live with my grandmother.

Three years later whilst living with my grandmother, my uncle Andrew who is my mother's brother visits my grandmother. He is an electrician and my grandmother wants him to mend her iron for her. He sits at the kitchen table and begins to unscrew the bottom plate from the iron. The screwdriver slips off the head of the screw. His hands shake. Screws fall on the floor. He slumps on the table. An ambulance comes and takes him away. He is dead within the week. He was only in his forties, and had played professional football for Bradford City in the 50's

My grandfather died when he was 57 the same age as me.

The doctors decide to take a closer look at how my heart functions. On Monday they will shoot a dye into me and see how it moves around my system. I am feeling fine.