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Showing posts from July, 2011

The Sunday Post

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Small Lochs

He's obsessed with clocks, she with politics,
He with motor cars, she with Amber and jet.
There's something to be obsessed with for all of us.
Mine is lochs, the smaller the better.
I look at the big ones – Loch Ness, Loch Lomond,
Loch Shin, Loch Tay – and I bow respectfully,
but they are too grand to be invited home.
How can I treat them in the way they'd expect?

But the Dog Loch runs in eights when I go walking.
The cat Loch purrs on the windowsill. I wade
along Princes Street through Loch na Barrack.
In smoky bars I tell them like beads.

And don't think it's just the big ones that are lordily named
I met one once and when I asked what she was called
the little thing said (without blushing, mind you)
The Loch Of The Corrie Of The Green Waterfalls.

I know they are just H2O in a hollow.
Yet not much time passes without me thinking of them.
Dandling lilies and talking sleepily
And standing huge mountains on their watery heads.

Norman MacCaig
December 1974…

Posting.

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Hello my wee blog,

I was thinking about doing a blog post about maps and history the other day. I never studied history at school but became interested in it  across the years after I'd left. Over time I became interested in maps too. To be honest, I've always been interested in maps. Even as a small child I remember creating fantasy maps of islands where X marked the spot for pirate treasure, naming the mountains, bays and inlets with terrifying and bloody names. Too much childhood time perhaps spent with Robert Louis Stevenson and his tales of 'Treasure Island', 'Robinson Crusoe' and even 'Kidnapped'. Even now I'll often spend time standing in front of one of the several old maps of Scotland I have on the walls of the 'library', lost in thought about this or that. I became interested in languages too and soon began connecting maps and language. It was this connection that set me off on the train of thought about what a post would look lik…

Women - Know your Limits......

A step too far......

Let's just say.


No Darling, your not wrong.

{You're just not as right as I am.}


I'm going to get in so much trouble for this!!!!

Jings!

The Sunday Post

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This week's Sunday post is another one from the pen of Norman MacCaig. This poem is dedicated to his friend Hugh McDiarmid, a very well-known figure in Scottish literature. McDiarmid was a poet, author and political activist, famous as a founder member of the Scottish National party. He was later expelled from the SNP for Communist activities and expelled from the Communist Party for nationalist activities. His works use words and phrases from colloquial Scots dialects mixed with English and the occasional Gaelic word. His most famous work is 'A Drunk Man Looks At The Thistle'


After His Death.

It turned out
that the bombs he had thrown
raised buildings:

That the acid he had sprayed
had painfully opened
the eyes of the blind.

Fishermen hauled
prize-winning fish
from the water he had polluted.

We sat with astonishment
enjoying the shade
of the vicious words he had planted.

The government decreed that
on the anniversary of his birth
the people should observe
two minutes pand…

On the tip of my tongue.

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Hello ma wee blog,

I'm standing in line to buy something at the bookshop, idling the waiting time away in people watching as per usual. The girl behind the counter is obviously a student, possibly working on a summer job . It's obvious that she's not having a good day. She's slim, blonde and trying her very best, but somehow it's just not working for her. Her face is flushed and she looks exasperated. Everything she seems to try is turning into a bit of a disaster. Clearly technology is not her forte and the till is not being a friend. Customers and customer service is perhaps something of a training need, but maybe I'm being unkind, perhaps it's just that being so flustered she can't seem to do anything right. She looks on the point of tears.

As the lane slowly moves forward and I get closer, things aren't getting any better for the young girl. By the time I'm at the head of the queue it's clear that the next person she's going to be …

Back from holiday.

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Plant-Pot Ornament.Hullo ma wee blog,

That's us back home from holiday in Switzerland. It's been great to see family again and as usual I took loads of photographs so we'll have lots of memories of our time there with the family. One of the reasons for the visit was because the lovely G's uncle had been very ill. It was great to see that he had made some huge improvement since the lovely G had seen him last in February of this year, even though he was still very frail. It's hard to see someone who was very powerful laid low by encroaching old age. The improvement helped the lovely G settle down and enjoy the holiday and gave me the chance to do some minor tasks around the place as a way of helping out G's Aunt and simply saying thanks for all the times we have stayed with them. So, I did some gardening and took over responsibility for making sure that the vegetable plot was kept well watered in the heat.

Path im Wald.

Silhouette
Over the last week, the temperatur…

The Sunday Post

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This weeks Poem:

The King’s English


I take it you already know
Of tough and bough and cough and dough?
Others may stumble, but not you,
On hiccough, thorough, slough and through.

Beware of heard, a dreadful word,
That looks like beard but sounds like bird.
And dead: It’s said like bed, not bead --
For goodness’ sake, don’t call it deed!

Watch out for meat and great and threat…
They rhyme with suite and straight and debt.
A moth is not the moth in mother,
Nor both in bother, nor broth in brother.

And here is not a match for there,
Nor dear and fear for bear and pear,
And then there’s dose and rose and lose --
Just look them up -- and goose and choose.

And cork and work and card and ward,
And font and front and word and sword.
And do and go, then thwart and cart,
Come, come, I’ve hardly made a start!
A dreadful language? Why, sakes alive!
I’d learned to speak it when I was five.
And yet, to write it, the more I tried,
I hadn’t learned it at fifty-five.

Anon

The Sunday Post

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There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

There Will Come Soft Rains
by Sara Teasdale

A River Runs Through It.......

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A Traditional Rhine-boat
Hullo ma wee blog,

That could be the theme for week one of the holiday in all probability. Staying close to the Rhine {pronounced 'Rhee' in this area}, Schaffhausen built on the bank and on trade from the river and Rhee-fall, biggest waterfall in Europe and still impressive even with only half the normal flow due to the dry weather this year. Today we continued the theme with a trip to Stein-Am-Rhee, one of those places that we really like and visit every time we come here. Stein-Am-Rhine is a small town of painted medieval houses a gentle couple of hours on a cruiser upstream from Schaffhausen through woods, vinyards and lovely little villages. On another boiler of a day, it's a great way to stay cool as the water takes the heat down and the breeze blowing gently down the river valley keeps you refreshed.







Two hours of scenery and people watching brought us to the town in time for a small lunch and a cool drink under huge parasols to keep the sun …

Randenturm, Rhinefall and a really nice BBQ

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          A Flower-head in the house trough.
              {Also great for weary feet!}

Hullo ma wee blog,

Yesterday was hot.

We didn't want to go far as a result, but also because we had been invited by one of the Lovely G's cousins to their family house in a nearby village for a BBQ in the late afternoon. We've been to a few of Ruedi's BBQ's before and he is a bit of a 'Grillmeister', so not only was I looking forward to it but I definitely didn't want to be having a big lunch beforehand.


Looking down on the village from The Randenturm.G's Aunt and Uncle's house is the shiny roof
In the end we decided we would go to the Rhinefall, which is only about 3km away. We took the bus to Neuhausen just beside the Rhinefall as we were both suffering from the effects of a walk to the Beringen Randenturm {Watchtower} which is in the forest above the village. Again, as it had been boiling hot, we'd slightly overdone it and were both suffering from …

The Sunday Post

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If we lived in a world where bells
truly say 'ding-dong' and where 'moo'
is a rather neat thing
said by a cow,
I could believe you could believe
that these sounds I make in the air
and these shapes with which I blacken white paper
have some reference
to the thoughts in my mind
and the the feelings in the thoughts.

As things are
if I were to gaze in your eyes and say
'bow-wow' or 'quack' you must take that to be
a dispairing anthology of praises'
a concentration of the opposites
of reticence, a capsule
of my meaning of meaning
that I can no more write down
than I could spell the sound of the sigh
I would then utter, before
dingdonging and mooing my way
through all the lexicons and languages
of imprecision.

'Linguist'
By Norman MacCaig, October 1964.

Relaxing with a Camera

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Access to the den is from the rear of the house barn
Hullo ma wee blog,

Behind the house there's a small shed with a vine covered arbour attached. It's a cosy hideaway to get out of hot sun to sit in the shade or just to spend a bit of time in of an evening while there's still warmth in the air. We use it on holiday as a favourite reading or chatting spot and spend a fair bit of time there.


      Which gets you to here.........

Yesterday we spent the day here at the house just chilling, doing some watering of the garden as it's been so dry here this summer. After the vegetable plots had been given a good hosing and all the flower baskets and borders had been thoroughly saturated I spent an hour or two with a beer and a book in the shade of the den. I had my camera with me too as I find it hard to be without it hereabouts. There's always so much to see, so much thats worthy of an attempt at a photograph that I always want to kick myself if the camera's not some…

Gruetzi.

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Klosterli - G's Aunt and Uncle's house.
Hullo ma wee blog,

Well, how's about this for a caper. International blogging that is. International because currently I'm sitting in the lounge of my Lovely G's Aunt and Uncle in Switzerland tapping out a little post to say that I may be absent for a few days or even I may not. depending on how the mood takes me.

We've come over for a couple of weeks, to see family and recharge batteries, take in a few sights and spend some time in the sun. We're staying in a small village near Schaffhausen and the Rhinefall in the very north of the country. It's nice to walk through the village and have people passing say 'Gruetzi' {Hello} to you. Almost everyone, young and old, will say this as they pass. It's a very nice and quaint custom which is still strong here. Much nicer than just passing you by. {I can't help remembering the scene in 'Crocodile Dundee' where he says 'G'day' to everyon…