Thursday, 15 November 2018

There's No Accounting for Taste

The older I get the more fascinating I find the huge differences in the likes and dislikes of the people I encounter.

The cat enjoying a gherkin on the left is a classic  illustration of this phenomena.

Worldwide the chosen leaders of countries large and small. centre-stage or backstage in world politics, have such differing and varying ideas of how the world should be, that I am amazed any kind of agreement can be reached on anything at all.

Today's exhausting and confusing Brexit 'plans', have left me wondering if this is some kind of parallel universe.

Is this really what our ancestors worked so hard for, the right to vote, to have our say, to work to make this a better country, part of a better world?

I have always valued this precious right and exercised it whenever the opportunity arose but, now faced with uncertain goals, weak and indecisive leaders, political in-fighting at every level and conflicting information at every turn I am beginning to want to turn back the clock.

Not the sharpest knife in the box and with no great claim to intellectual clarity of vision I nevertheless always felt I had at least a loose 'handle' on any national political situation.

This is no longer the case.

I voted to remain in the EU and still feel it was the right way to vote, but that is no longer an option and the alternatives appear less attractive with every day that passes.

Listening to the amount of venom between the opposing factions I can't help but wonder just how well having got their way they will be able to manage an alternative system.

No-one stands out as a natural leader, though that doesn't stop the contenders bidding for the top job on a daily basis.

Are we to be treated to another dose of Barmey Boris, versus Jacob Reece Smug, exchanging verbal fisticuffs for a further 12 months or so while the Government limps on its directionless journey to economic failure?

Meanwhile over the pond the head honcho effectively proves that one man can single-handedly reverse centuries of evolution and civilisation and somehow remain in power.

At the same time the whole world is hurtling toward extinction burning up the environment and wasting all of its resources.

I can't help hoping to wake up and find this is a Terry Pratchett universe, or just a bad dream.

Now, if ever, is the time for a World leader to appear.

Any offers?

Wednesday, 17 October 2018

Thankyou

I have no way of knowing whether it 'just happened', or someone helped it to happen, somehow, but the problem of the invader blog appears to have been solved.

If anyone was able to remove it remotely I thank you.  If it was Divine intervention (unlikely), I am just as gratefull.

Sometimes i think i am the only surviving dynasour on the planet.

But, that won't stop me blogging/ 

Sorry.


Tuesday, 16 October 2018

Help I'm being stifled

If anyuone knows how i can clear aomeone else's blog from being superimposed over mine please let me know.

Currently "Medieval Church Art" is spread all over my blog and I can't get to my comments (if any) nor can i remove the intruder.

I shopuld add that the blog is one I read and enjoy, but not at the expense of losing my own.

I know virtually nothing about IT and haven't any hope of fixing the problem myself.

Sunday, 7 October 2018

Is it too late?

This picture borrowed from Google is of a tiny surviving tree in a cracked and parched landscape.

For many, this Summer has been wonderful, hot and dry day after day, week after week.  For others, less so.

Never a lover of hot weather I have (at best) survived the months up until the end of September and am only now beginning to be able to breath and sleep more easily.

What has made this year so much worse for me has been the sight of our local trees gradually losing their freshness, leaves drooping, then curling and dying and even the trunks of some really big old trees losing colour and visibly fading.

I watered my garden as long as I could, but could do nothing for the poor trees gasping at the roadsides.

Like most gardeners and tree lovers I have rejoiced at the (very occasional) sight of clouds on the horizon, and like many of them have felt like crying as they, once more, passed us by on their way elsewhere.

Yesterday we had rain all day.  I am still recovering from my bug (see previous post) and had no intention of going anywhere, so welcomed the rare sight, praying for it to continue as long as possible.

On the bus a few days ago I saw, in a group of mixed large and small trees that some of the more recently planted ones were in fact dead.

Whether we will now begin to have more rain, it is after all October, I don't know, but I am hoping against hope that this will happen.

Apart from the beauty these lovely living things add to our landscapes, trees are the lungs of town and city and without their graceful presence we cannot survive.

Not once, among the glib meteorological tv weather reports and constantly repeated "another lovely day for the South", have I hear any mention of the terrible damage this 4 month drought has caused.

Surely I'm not the only one who is concerned for our precious greenery?

Tuesday, 2 October 2018

Lifebelt Over Here Please

This is  how I feel and probably look too.

Got home from a normal Friday choir practice on 28th, thought, hmmm don't feel too good, headed up to the bathroom and fainted.

A split second later struggled up and thought, "I'm going to be sick".

TMI Warning

Was immediately overwhelmed by a tsunami of vomit and (simultaneously) diarrhoea.

Well I did warn you.  Those of  SQUEAMISH NATURE read no further.

This ghastly state of affairs lasted at fairly frequent intervals until early Monday morning.

Having sipped cooled boiled water for 48 hours  I thought I'd risk a cup of cool tea.  Mistake!

Later in the day I ate a ginger biscuit (stem ginger)  knowing ginger to be good for stomach problems. It took me 10 minutes to eat it (felt like a 2 course meal) and, wonder of wonders it stayed put. 

Since then the flood seems to have abated and (between 3 minute sessions of cleaning up the bathroom and washing nighties etc I have spent my time lying down or trying possibilities like a two-egg omelette made in the microwave so no fat would be involved (stayed put), and an occasional
cup of tea interspersed with boiled water.

Without exaggeration this is the worst I've ever felt, but thankfully living alone I have not had to inflict the more sordid aspects on anyone else.

Luckilly for me, I have the constitution of an ox and once the evil bug has departed am back to my version of normal very quickly.

Where it came from (or whom) I have no idea, perhaps someone is trying to tell me to give up choir.

I know you don't need to say it, "she doesn't post for 6 weeks and this is the best she can do".

One small consolation I've lost 6 pounds in weight.

No I am not reccommending it.

Friday, 13 July 2018

Blowing his own Trumpet

I know I am only one of many who are staggered by the monstrous conceit of Donald Trump, but I could not resist adding my ten cent's worth to the pool of condemnation.

We have been treated to so many public displays of supremely undiplomatic behaviour since he came into his 'Kingdom', that it seemed unlikely he would be able to add anything worse.

Yet, here he is, in our country, describing in tones of deepest sorrow his unhappiness with all things British.

He explains how he "told Mrs May how she should have approached the EU on Brexit, but she ignored his instructions".

The supreme arrogance of this most ridiculous public firgure is matched only by his level of self-delusion.

Does he really believe the rubbish he spouts or is it part of the by now, indisputable paranoia he has shown to the world since he became a 'world leader'.

Will he I wonder, continue to condescend to everyone else he meets on this official visit, even, dare I suggest, her majesty The Queen?

Or, will his preposterous behaviour be toned-down to a more socially-aware level?

The thought of him languishing in the Tower is the only thing which sustains me .


Monday, 18 June 2018

Eeeeek!

A love of animals has been a huge part of my life since my pet-free childhood.

This as anyone who has read me over the the past 6 or 7 years, has mainly shown itself in a total devotion to cats, then donkeys, horses, birds and all the wonderful world of animals with one or two notable exceptions.

I try to love all of God's creations (even those I hate/fear) but the dreaded arachnid brigade closely followed by small rodents has me (mildly) terrified, most of the time.

In my garage I keep a round plastic tub in which my supply of suet feed balls for the birds is kept.  Early last winter I took the lid off to grab a couple for the front garden feeder and nearly had a heart attack when a mouse leapt out and fled into a dark corner.

The lid rests on the top as the tub when firmly shut down is impossible for me to open with my arthritic hands. 

Realising that the mouse was probably trying to keep warm I replaced the lid gently and shut the garage door.

Since then, it has returned to its 'nest' every few weeks and now merely sits and watches me with huge eyes as I (very warily) remove a few suet balls at a time, gently replacing the 'roof' of its home.

Likewise with the ghastly eight-legged army which periodically invades my house, I merely open a window, grab my trustee (long handled) dust buster and loft it out of the window.

Killing anything with the exception of ants if found in the house, is something I would never even consider, yet my abject terror of the above-named two never grows any less.

Please don't send for the men in white coats, they are far too busy with world leaders to need to add me to their problems.

And And And I do know I'm weird.