Philosophy and Tiggers are like oil and water. Still

Before I knew much about philosophy, I thought I'd really get along with it.

When I took a Philosophy of Science module (along with History thereof) at Uni I discovered I really struggle with philosophy.

And despite my continued best efforts, on finishing Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder I can say, wholeheartedly, I just don't mix well with philosophy.

In principle we have lots in common, philosophy and I. But when I get into it, with the different philosophers and thought approaches (and yes, they come fairly thick and fast in Sophie's World) I feel like I'd have to battle really quite hard to piece it all together and actually, I'd rather be doing something else.

And so, philosophy, for now I'm going to leave you to the Philosophers. I don't doubt your importance in the web of life - I'm just happy to leave you to it.

Aberdeen

 I always find it rather exciting when I find new and unexpected ways to break bags. I've broken many in my time. In all sorts of ways. But generally as a result of overfilling them. Today was no exception. Perhaps if I hadn't been taking photos. Perhaps if I'd secured it on with the bottom bit. Perhaps perhaps perhaps. But the reality is that my heavily laden pannier detached itself from my bike in a rather permanent way when one of the plastic clips that attach it to the rack snapped off. Which is a shame. I now get to investigate the joys of replacement pannier clips but until then the single spare bungee I had with me came into play and I got to the train. Yippee!

It's been an altogether intriguing trip. The last time I was in Aberdeen was over 2 years ago when I was doing a “tenant change over” and I found my last Scottish tenant. As much as that particular tenancy ended rather badly, it was the push I needed to realise that my time would be much better spent focusing my energies in one place (or at least one region!) rather than spreading them across several countries, let alone counties. That decision was back in July but the machinations have meant it's taken until now to get things lined up to put my little flat on the market. And, as is usually the way, on arrival back into Aberdeen I fell in love with the place all over again – and the same with my flat. It's a top floor studio with a north facing view from the kitchen across Aberdeen docks (how had I forgotten Aberdeen's a major port? How had I forgotten the docks? Who knows, but I had. Arriving back into the station it was all brought back in an instant, tho'!) and a sitting / bedroom with a huge south facing window that gets flooded with sunlight. And yes, I do mean sun, as in the sun shining, as in the sun shining in Aberdeen. In fact, this weekend has seen LOTS of sunshine and glorious it has been.

I'd found myself various free things to do over the weekend (vinyasa (sp?) yoga on Friday, introduction to meditation on Saturday, free gym (read sauna & steam & spa pool) access and a concert of Handel's Alexander's Feast in the cathedral on Sunday) and I'm fairly certain I did more exploring of Aberdeen in this 4 days than I did while I was here. Interesting reflection. In amongst that I discovered the joys of buying expensive paint (covers small cracks and holes – no filler required! Plus massively reduces the time spent painting), the wonder that is the Aberdeen Winter Gardens (in Duthie Park, the remains of a Victoria glass house built in 1899, severely gale damaged in 1969 and now restored to its current incarnation which includes a nationally recognised cactus collection, among other things. Oooh, one of which are the cats that used to adorn the south side of Union Bridge before it got filled with shops – and when I saw the north side ones still in situ I felt like I'd completed the set. Genius) and I rediscovered the wonderful air mattress that saw me through most of my actual living-stay in Aberdeen. And which I then got all sentimental over and have hence packed in my bags (yes, it may be the reason the pannier broke. But I suspect it was simply one aspect – that pannier's given me good service, and was second hand to me!). It's been an awesome weekend. I've had a great time and have thoroughly enjoyed myself, even the slightly weird feeling I had on Saturday night after a visit to the cinema. Three trips to B&Q, several to various food places, some wandering and lots of paint. Awesome weekend.

But the most intriguing factor was my response as I was leaving the flat. I've never lived in that flat. This trip is probably the longest I've ever stayed in it. But I eternally feel like this could so easily have been a home for me. If the time had been right. Which it wasn't. It's such a simple little flat. It's so high and spacious for just one person. It's got character. It's got a great big garden which, even with a big ol' chunk of drying lawn, has the same space again which could be a great little garden / allotment type place. And which no-one has paid any attention to since I've been there (I have fond memories of harvesting some rhubarb from an old root down there one visit – and very nice it was too). It's a very short cycle to wonderfully remote-feeling bits of coast. It's walking distance to the train station. It's minutes from the wonderful River Dee. It's just, well, wonderful. But my life has taken me elsewhere.

And having taken me elsewhere it really does seem like the right time to say farewell to dear little flat and hope that someone else falls in love with it and manages to live there. Or someone simply purchases it and has many tenants who fall in love with it. And I haven't even mentioned the joy of the coal cellar! (except now I have – there you go) But despite all that I found myself wanting to take photos of it as I was leaving (part of the reason the pannier broke). Wanting to feel like I wasn't losing it – that I was recording it's part in my life. I felt very strongly attached to it – and wanting to say goodbye properly. I ended up saying goodbye with a liberal shaking of teatree oil in each room (I decided teatree - the only oil I had with me - was a better smell than paint). And now I'm on my way south it feels OK to have said goodbye. It feels like it's time. But it also feels like a real shift in a way which I hadn't really expected. And to have had the pannier crisis (which, I have to say, I feel I dealt with rather well. Pause. Take breath. Check time to train departing. Assess options and spend a bit of time attaching said pannier on to the rack securely with a bungee. Get to train with 10 minutes to spare. Feel good) as I was leaving almost felt like Aberdeen didn't quite want to say goodbye either. Which was nice.

What I'm most looking forward to is the next occasion I somehow end up in Aberdeen – and being able to enjoy the trip, having various moments of memories intermingled with new experiences.

Aberdeen – I salute you. To all that's gone before and all that's to come, I raise my glass and gaze at the beautiful, beautiful full moon I'm touched to have with me on my journey back to the land of my birth.