[almostnormal]

i feel compelled, after a number of weeks of surveying and field work, to share with all wabbers, my thoughts on field work…(these are my own point of view, and i hope you will neither take offence, or a wall, when you read this)

…. the wonderful world of field work. why is it wonderful you ask? well because it means being outside in the countryside in the lovely sunshine rather than stuck indoors. sounds alright you say? well let me tell you something. it. is. a. nightmare. sure its sunny and warm and it means you're getting a tan, but i'll tell you what. its marred. marred by: the evil biting insects. they clearly think i'm a walking buffet. its a hazard of fieldwork, goes with the territory, but i'm so unimpressed. before i go out into the great outdoors i dose myself head to toe in DEET the apparently fullproof insect repellent. does it work you ask? i'm still bitten half to death by mosquitoes, midges, horseflies, clegs and any other vicious blood sucking six legged (or occasionally eight legged) horror that should be used as an alien in a film. once you've dealt with the bugs (usually by waving your clipboard around so anyone passing assumes you've escaped from the local loony bin) you're constantly dodging barbed wire, brambles, spiky thorned bushes that grow all over the place, trying to undo gates tied with barbed wire or string so tight you could accidentally decapitate yourself, gates that suddenly, without any warning, swing open and dump you in a muddy pile, or even worse, a muddy pile that’s not actually mud. even if all this hasn't deterred you (you're very hardy if you haven't given up and cried yet) there's the inevitable livestock. don't believe it if anyone ever tells you "arr, it'll be alright, them cows 'll not bother ya". they are lying! the herd of cows will stalk you round the field, chase you across the field and see you leaping over the gate/fence/wall with a speed you'd not think possible.

there is one other thing makes it rubbish. pants. total pain in the behind. its called RAIN. and it puts a real dampener on any day spent surveying the glorious and great outdoors.

its not the rain itself that causes the problems. in fact when its like today, very humid and hot, rain can be fantastic. it cools you off, relieves the unbearable stickiness that inevitably comes before a storm, gives everything that glorious damp springy feeling and causes the sweet aroma of wet grass. plus it gives us those big puddles to go and jump up and down in in our wellies. and, major bonus, causes a few moments respite from the evil bugg. nope, its that everything gets wet. and therein lies the problem. have you ever tried writing on wet paper with a biro? no? lucky you. let me help out there, it doesn't work. for some unfathomable reason, biro's just won't write on damp paper, or if its raining. fountain pens write, but the minute you get a splosh of rain it runs into little blue puddles on the page and becomes illegible, and so you're left with the ever reliable pencil. except the ever reliable pencil comes with a few problems of its own. first off, it needs sharpening and if, like me, you buy the i'm-a-recycled-cup variety you can't leave the shavings lying around. so you end up carrying them around in the bottom of your bag, only to find them weeks later, after wondering what that grey powder all over all your stuff is. second there's the its-a-damp-bit-of-paper-and-its-going-to-rip-if-anything-sharper-than-a-cottonbud-gets-within-5feet-of-it syndrome suffered by all fieldworkers that means that all the pencils have to be blunt anyway, thus ruling out the ingenious mechanical-never-needs-sharpening variety of pencil. these things can all be overcome, and waterproof paper and pens are available for the very dedicated. but its actually something invented for fieldworkers that is the main problem with wet fieldwork. its called a weatherwriter, and in theory its the best thing since sliced bread as far as anyone working outside with pens and pencils and in the rain is concerned. in essence its a waterproof clipboard. there's a kind of plastic tent attached to it that you can write under and which, supposedly, keeps the rain off your work. and in light showers its really effective. but give it a bit more rain and what happens is this -

step one - the heavens open and you immediately stow anything that will be affected into the waterproof compartment of your weatherwriter
step two - you hastily put all waterproof gear on in order to at least pretend that you are not, as it appears, getting totally soaked
step three - you open the weatherwriter to finish writing notes........
only to have all the water run down your waterproofs and into the weatherwriter. SIGH.

i'm not blaming the people at weatherwriter, mine is brilliant and super handy, but its just not designed for heavy rain. and unfortunately you can't just abandon a survey if it starts to rain a bit. what i need is for some clever boffin to design a sealable unit with the handy gloves attached thing they use in infectious disease units so no water at all can get in. but i fear it will be too cumbersome. until then i, and all the others like me will have to offer up swift prayers to whatever being controls the rain, and hope it holds off until the notes are finished. given past form i'm relatively convinced that this is a waste of energy, but i live in ever optimistic hope that one day our prayers will be heard.........

by this time, having dealt with assorted livestock-bug-insect-gate-mud-rain-plant-fence-wire related problems, you are undoubtedly (unless you are either a veteran or extremely hardy) huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth, and re-thinking the life you have chosen to pursue, by carefully weighing both the obstacles and the benefits of not being in an office.

if you are not strong, grasshopper, you will return to the stuffy centrally heated air conditioned germ infested hell hole that is your office, sighing over the glimpse of freedom that you so shamefully ran from.

if you are strong, grasshopper, you will rise like the proverbial phoenix from the metaphorical ashes of your first day and say: 'i will not be beaten by the bugs and barbed wire. i will not run from the cows or the sheep. i will not be conquered by insane knots on gate. i am a fieldworker and i will survey this field if it is the last thing i do on this earth. but first a restoring half at the pub...'



NB. please note that i believe working in an office requires a great deal more strength of mind than strolling around the countryside counting flowers and birds ever will. those of you who unfailingly get the tube or bus or sit in traffic for hours on end in order to reach one of the offices that make our country tick, i salute you!