I love lighthouses.
All of them. But especially old ones. With those massive Fresnel lenses.
Tall enough to overcome the curvature of the Earth. That's a lot of sodding stairs, by the way. I mean a LOT.
I always sort of wanted to live in one, although with my leg the way it is I'm not sure now. I thought about it a lot in Afghanistan though, and before that in Africa. I thought about having a lighthouse on some deserted island, the kind where you have to row to town to do your shopping. I thought about being alone for months at a time and how everything would smell of salt and it would rain and strange things would wash up on the shore.
I thought about it when I was a kid too, on the rare occasions my parents fought, or the not-so-rare occasions Harry and I fought.
It's funny - as if I've always subconsciously assumed that being alone is the answer to all my problems, when it turns out I couldn't have been more wrong.
62 comments:
I've only been to the lighthouse of Puerto Vallarta (Mexico), when I was a little kid, and I liked it a lot. I don't remember looking outside, though, mostly I remember the bar at the top. It had an elevator, too--an old thing, more like a cage, that made a lot of noise. Next time you visit a lighthouse, choose one with an elevator. XD
You could still move with your family to a lighthouse, of course, and it doesn't necessarily mean you'd be isolated from the world. I suspect, though, that even with an elevator, Sherlock might want to take the stairs and it wouldn't be a good idea. :P
I'm sorry, but Enid Blyton has me convinced that lighthouses are only used by smugglers :P
I always thought it would be cool to live in a lighthouse too, but then I started having to climb up the stairs to the sixth story of the English building at my university all the time. I took four English classes and one history class. All of them were on that top floor. One semester I was late for my calculus class every day because I had ten minutes to make it down all those stairs, walk two blocks, and climb to the third story of another building. This made the thought of having to climb lots of stairs at home really unappealing. I'm very grateful for my lovely one story house.
Anyway, I still love the look of them. Visiting a lighthouse is on my "things I want to do one day" list.
Oh, my husband and I *love* lighthouses. The picture you posted is just gorgeous - blue! We don't have many blue ones in the States. I've probably visited (and climbed!) 20 different lighthouses, from Florida in the South to the Apostle Islands way on the Canadian border. They're all so lovely, and unique in their own way.
But my very favorite is this one:
http://www.mnhs.org/places/sites/srl/index.htm
Mostly because of the incredible setting. The light itself is very short, but the view from the cliff is spectacular.
I've had to hike 3 miles in soft dune sand to one, cross a rocky jetty that was underwater at high tide to another, and ride 45 minutes in a boat to a remote island to another (Raspberry Island Lighhouse in the Apostles, which is on Lake Superior, and would have fulfilled all of your youthful fantasies about being alone.)
But despite fascination with these places that really seem to embody the self-reliant spirit, most keepers had their family with them, and their assistant keepers and their family, too. Being entirely alone can be boring, and sometimes even dangerous.
Which is something it looks like you've figured out.
Cheers, and glad you had such a lovely day!
Hmm, so how did the windmill the other week compare? Same shape (sort of) fewer steps...not quite as isolated.
And if you're changing to being a salty old sea dog, I shall rewrite the novel so you can rescue me from a ferocious storm, onto your little rocky home and we can fall in love in splendid isolation...
Lupe - I think an elevator would be an excellent addition to any lighthouse I might theoretically move into. And maybe the stairs would tire Sherlock out…
Anon 1 - Smuggling could be a good second career! Not if I'm just going to get caught by a bunch of kids and a dog though.
Anon 2 - I feel your pain on the stairs, not just from the lighthouse, but many of my classes in med school as well. Chugging a triple iced espresso to wake up and then bolting up six flights for my class… It was not a good life choice on my part.
Mazarin - That's a beautiful one, and I like their motto. A really big light, indeed. That Raspberry Island one sounds like exactly what I was looking for (although I don't think I could leave the UK, even if the post were available). I even like the name.
L - I did like the windmill too, but it's not quite the same. Are you going to be a sailor then? Fisherman? Merman?
Hang on, trying to get my head around how a German romance would work...it's no good, don't know the anatomy and wouldn't be able to climb all those stairs. I'd probably be a pirate, forced to walk the plank because I was too soft or something.
Or, if you ask my team today, a captain chucked off the ship in a mutiny.
Are you making them look for body parts again? It's such a nice day for it...
The worst part of the smuggler idea is that you'd be bringing your own kids and dogs to stop that second career.
I love the idea of lighthouses. I've never been to one, and now I don't even know if I'd be able to get up to the top. :-(
It looks like the two of you had a great time in some beautiful (desolate) country.
humantales - yeah, I think Mrs Holmes might have a slight objection to that. Although Sherlock would probably think it was terribly exciting.
Maybe you can find a lighthouse with an elevator, like Lupe's. They've got to be more common than not, surely. Especially when you think about getting those lenses up and down the stairs.
Christ John, if you'd have seen the Boss earlier you'd have thrown him over the side for your own safety. He got so angry with a bloke I was scared - and I know what a soft sod he really is from reading these!
Sally - what on Earth happened? That's not like him.
I wasn't that bad.
I'm not exactly at my calmest and least stressed, and this bloke spat at me. I really really hate people who spit.
I don't know if I wish it had actually hit me or not. If it had I would have had him arrested. But I really don't fancy the risk of hep c. Or whatever else he might have had.
I just told him what I thought of him and his attitude to us.
Ugh. Charming. I'm glad it fell short of the mark and I hope whatever you said makes him think twice about trying it again.
And in answer to your question no, no searching for body parts (although it is *always* a good day for that). We got some fantastic forensics off the last bit (can't say what, obviously). So enquiries are taking a different route. Means we've searched a lot of lock ups, garages, workshops today. Tomorrow is commercial properties, when everyone's back at work.
Sounds better than wading through mud and sewage, if with slightly more chance of spitting.
(Do you have a rainbow striped sock? I feel certain you'll say no, but it's not mine and it's too big for the boys. The only other conclusion is that all the lost socks in the world eventually turn up in our flat.)
I do actually. Probably haven't worn them since Pride last year though. Nicky bought me them.
I might have grabbed it the other day, after the while Bryan incident. I wasn't exactly thinking straight, just stuffing clothes in my bag.
Or it might be a random sock fallen through the sock wormhole to your flat.
Oh good. I wasn't really prepared to have our flat be the answer to the eternal where-do-the-socks-go question, or for the team of scientists I'm sure would descend to study the phenomenon. You can model them for me later.
If you've only found one, I only grabbed one. Modelling it would be...odd.
Anyway, wouldn't you rather I modelled my stab vest and a bit of strawberry conserve? Although I'd feel pretty deflated if the jam got all the attention...
No I would not! Our love life does not require jam. OR MARMITE, which I know will be the next stop on your train of thought.
Hey, you started all this by implying it needed sandwiches, lavender oil and a stab vest! Jam is positively tame in comparison.
I did no such thing! This is the most ridiculous argument I've ever had with anyone in my life, and that's saying something. I hope it's not making you laugh as much as it is me, or people are probably looking at you very oddly.
I'm back in the office, about to leave. Anyone sane has gone already, no one else cares.
Anyway, you did. Everyone will agree. It's there in black and white.
Did not. Implication suggests intent.
Home soon?
Home now! Well, once I've chained the bike up. and shaken the rain off myself.
Did.
Did not.
Have you locked me out? Is this some petty attempt to make me agree you didn't? I shall call Mrs Hudson to let me in if you don't get down here and take the catch off the door.
I'm getting wet! Well, wetter!
You DID.
Sorry! One second.
Did not though. To infinity.
sorrey intnet am forcdd to hold J host age an hug hm to grt wet offff m jcket til He givs in
tping bad.a he sstrugglng to grab phone
Had to let him go. He used dirty underhand tactics to distract me, then tickle me.
You deserved it!
You're a bad man, Hamish Danger.
Everyone, if I invite Danger to lunch this week, all ask me if I've remembered to have my hair cut yet. I have to invest a lunchtime this week in getting it all chopped off. I'm starting to look like an old english sheepdog.
Lestrade - Maybe you can get a 'tickle vest' somewhere?
It's just a bit floppy, that's all. Starting to look more like your profile pic.
It's just a bit floppy, that's all.
I was starting to SERIOUSLY worry where that sentence was going.
Floppy. More sort of...unruly. And with even more of a mind of its own than usual. The Super told me I looked scruffy today! See how he looks after 12 hours on the streets of London in this weather.
Paula - my stab vest would probably be fairly good at preventing tickling. I'd start wearing it home...but it's a sticky slope from that the whole jam scenario. I think maybe that's Danger's plan.
Seems to me that Danger really deserves his nickname. This guy has mischievous plans with ... things I don't even dare speaking about.
I HAVE NO JAM PLANS. You people, honestly.
The Super told me I looked scruffy today!
I'm having a difficult but amusing time trying to imagine that. Did he just stop you randomly in the hallway to inform you of your scruffiness?
I wrote nothing about jam and feel completely innocent.
I was in the lift. He got in. He asked me how 'it' was going (meaning he doesn't know what I'm working on), so I gave a vague 'fine' answer.
Then he said I was "looking a bit..."(and waved his hand up and down in the posh airy way people have) and told me it wouldn't do to have the press or public think the Met was "allowing standards to slip, don't you agree?".
And there was I thinking we were here to catch murderers, not model the latest Saville Row offerings.
I didn't agree. I got off a floor early.
I HAVE NO JAM PLANS. You people, honestly.
Did you know one of the words most commonly used by people who aren't telling the truth is 'honestly'? I learnt that in a seminar on interrogation once.
And this whole conversation brings this to mind:
"I'm sure I'll take you with pleasure!" Danger said. "Two pence a week, and jam every other day."
Lestrade couldn't help laughing, as he said, "I don't want you to hire ME - and I don't care for jam."
"It's very good jam," said Danger.
"Well, I don't want any TO-DAY, at any rate."
"You couldn't have it if you DID want it," Danger said. "The rule is, jam to-morrow and jam yesterday - but never jam to-day."
"It MUST come sometimes to "jam to-day,"" Lestrade objected.
"No, it can't," said Danger. "It's jam every OTHER day: to-day isn't any OTHER day, you know."
"I don't understand you," said Lestrade. "It's dreadfully confusing!"
(Clearly Danger is keeping all the jam.)
(Oh, and before anyone else says it - I would like to think I'm worth slightly more than two pence a week. Although not much more, according to the Met.)
Wait, so this is all *our* fault now? If neither of you guys are going to accept responsibility (*cough*John*cough*) then surely a poll is called for?
"I'm sure I'll take you with pleasure!" Danger said.
Absolutely no comment whatsoever. Honestly :-p
1. Wrong use of honestly. That was more I honestly can't believe you people than honestly I'm telling the truth.
2. Maybe you don't need a haircut, just an Alice band.
3. He sounds like kind of a shit. To be honest.
4. Your stab vest would be terrible protection against tickling; it's much too gappy under the arms.
I'm getting a huge grin from this conversation. You two (and all of your followers) are just too cute.
1. I know, but they didn't specify usage, just the word.
2. Very witty. I don't think it would suit me, though.
3. I couldn't possibly comment. I'm certain he's very good at his job. They do always say promotion is given to those who are useless at doing the real work...um, who are full of talent, skill and dedication, I mean.
4. True. It would protect my ribs though. Nothing I own comes with built-in-armpit-protection. I'll get the Met to look into it. Or buy you mittens to wear.
Now...those plans you mentioned, about lavender oil. (We'll leave out the other items. I ate the sandwich and my stab vest is back under my desk.) Jam's in the cupboard.
I think you've got some sort of jam fetish, the number of times you've bought it up.
Just trying to be interested in your interests, love.
Now come and get under this bed spread, warm and toasty, where I have conserved a nice space for you to jam yourself into and turn me to jelly...
Fortunately (?) This captcha says "botiva," so you're safe feom jam-related innuendo from me. Over here, at least.
I completely forgot what I was going to post there, as my verification word was 'speedo'. Do you have this set to innuendo mode or what? ;-)
That's ok, anon, I got "lubes" over on Lestrade's blog for captcha. I think they must have triggered a smut generator, or something.
If you hear choking noises from across the Atlantic, it's because I've just died laughing from this conversation alone.
(I should know better than to drink anything while reading your blogs!)
-A
I got "lubes" over on Lestrade's blog
read this as "I got 'lubes' all over Lestrade's blog"... I wouldn't be surprised.
*snerk*
It would seem you have nothing to say about L or your commenters dirty minds ever again.
read this as "I got 'lubes' all over Lestrade's blog"
Me, too. I can't imagine why anyone would think of such a thing here.
I don't know if it's true in the UK, but today is Memorial Day here in the US. It's (supposed) to be a day when we remember those who have died in the service of our military.
Fortunately, there's only one military man in my family, and he's been out for a good many years. (He was out long before 9/11 and the subsequent actions.) I'm glad that, injured or not, you've made it home. (I've been thinking about this all week; just wanted to say it.)
Thank you. It's appreciated.
And now I'm humming Jam tomorrow, jam yesterday, but never ever jam today. Which lyrical accompaniment by Carol Channing. I want you to know that. Plus side? It has chased any condiment related innuendo out of my head.
TTFN<
Bronwyn
Can you all stop getting 'lubes' all over my blog. It's getting hard to handle...
humantales - here we have Rememberance Sunday on the second Sunday in November - closest to the 11th, as a reminder of Armistace. And I'm thankful every day that Danger got back home 'just a bit shot' (his words).
I was only a bit shot. Other people had it much worse.
I just meant you said that, as in, I wasn't trivialising you getting shot. (really, quite shot enough. More than enough)
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