Friday, 27 May 2016


Having mentioned before that I think I'm on the edge of type 2 and what with having a doctor quite a bit less than what might be called an enthusiast. Anyhoos, I found myself at the doctors last week to get results of some tests. It seems I've cholesterol off the charts, it also seems the cause of my problem with my foot is down to gout. 
Anyways I got a script for an antiinflammatory and Febuxostat the meds for lowering acid. 
Now I've had 2 months on anti inflammatories before the doc put me on the one last week due to the issues with my feet so it was quite a surprise that I got severe chest pain on the following days. I took the pills until Saturday and said I'd leave things and ring the doc on Monday. This I did, only to be told to get myself to an emergency unit and fast. So in I went and was seen with a haste that's quite shocking to anyone who knows the Irish health system. 
I was pushed up into the hospital to an assessment unit where I was poked prodded and attached to every sort of device they had.
Anyway #2, having just missed being kept in, I was sent home with a script for proton-pump inhibitor to lessen the acid in the stomach and urgent outpatient appointments. Yesterday came and the foot issue started up again and I restarted the anti inflammatories only to be gripped by a vicious hold in my chest again. This time I visited the GP, where I was given a script for Tramadol. Along with a warning to get myself to an E.D if things et any worse

Saturday, 21 May 2016

HDR done properly

Usually your eye can see the water under the trees and move seamlessly to the blue of the sky but a camera cannot. Now Nikon can get closer than any other system but the details would simply not come out.
In the past this technique was used too in very high end photo images. High end, because it would take the better part of a day to merge three five or even seven different exposures. And while it's not a cincture, it sure doesn't take a day.

Friday, 20 May 2016

Derrynaflan, where the treasure came from.

In 1980, I think it was, a local went out with a metal detector and found the hoard of very impressive metalwork consisting of a large chalice, a paten and a strainer all under a bronze bowl.
The discovery very much became a cause célèbre due to how it was found and the process deployed on ownership after it was found.
Because it was a guy and his son out with the detector with the permission of the landowner there was little if any context to the finds. So much so it may as well have been found on someone's table where all you had to date it was the dust. But the find also showed up the flaws internationally when finds weren't reported to the source country for there was no reason in Law to have the items set to the National Museums. And in fact once dealt with under the Treasure Trove coroner's court, not one damn thing to keep them on the island once sold. Other countries were in the same position, Greece Italy and Turkey were being stropped of artifacts by the new time while Spain France and England were going out of their way to allow exports.   

Thursday, 12 May 2016

This is a stumper.

I was de-crumbing my wireless keyboard before it actually takes fire. So sue me I eat and surf, who doesn't. But why on earth is there fifteen screws holding in something run by a battery that wouldn't zap a fly. FIFTEEN of the little beggers.
Nor is it something that they want you to send in to get fixed. It was €30 if I remember so if it dies it stays dead unless I can resuscitate it myself. But why 15, when 4 would hold the halves together with room to spare.  

The space set out for a meeting.

Wednesday, 11 May 2016

Opened and looking quite good

I have no photos just yet as I was too darn busy setting up. Bit of a laugh, eh.

Thursday, 5 May 2016

First part of the install

Opening on Tuesday.

I went with A3 on A2 foamcore.
To give an idea of the size. The top of the landscape ones is at 180cm or 6'.

Tuesday, 3 May 2016

On this day 100 years ago, shot.

by Francis Ledwidge

He shall not hear the bittern cry
In the wild sky, where he is lain,
Nor voices of the sweeter birds
Above the wailing of the rain.
Nor shall he know when loud March blows
Thro' slanting snows her fanfare shrill,
Blowing to flame the golden cup
Of many an upset daffodil.
But when the dark cow leaves the moor,
And pastures poor with greedy weeds,
Perhaps he'll hear her low at morn
Lifting her horn in pleasant meads.

My fathers mother is a MacDonagh.