Sunday, 30 September 2012

The Sunday Posts 2012/ laugh and the world


Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Photo by Alistair.

Sunday, 23 September 2012

The Sunday posts2012/ abou ben adeem

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:—
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the Presence in the room he said
"What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still, and said "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow men."

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

James Henry Leigh Hunt
Photo by Alistair.

Monday, 17 September 2012

Man Flu

My eyes water. My nose runs and my head pounds as I go through fits of sneezing and all the while my cold marches to the beat of my heart loud in my ears. In the distance the mournful peel of a  handbell and a sing-song chant.

"Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!"

Man flu........

See you later.

Listening to:

Saturday, 15 September 2012

The Sunday Posts 2012/Battle of Britain Day.

Battle of Britain day is the anniversary of the heaviest day of fighting during the desperate fight to keep Nazi Germany at bay and this scene depicts the first 'scramble' experienced by 18 year old newby spitfire pilot Geoffrey Wellum in 1940. It captures the intensity of combat these often inexperienced and barely trained young men faced.

 The excellent film is based on his book 'First Light'. The voice at the end of the scene is Geoffrey's.

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

The Power of Marketing

I was struck by the cheek of the marketing industry today while in the shower. I saw their shameless attempt to double the profits of the shampoo maker displayed on the bottle instructing idiots how to use the product: at the end of the instructions on how to shampoo your hair was.......


Aye - that'll be right!

See you later.

Listening to:

Sunday, 9 September 2012

The Sunday Posts 2012/the life that I have

The Life That I Have

The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours

The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.

Leo Marks.
Photo by Alistair. 

Friday, 7 September 2012

Never Say Never Alistair.

Confession time.....

I've ranted against it. I've been scornful and sarcastic about it. I've belittled it's usefulness and rejected potential benefits but finally I've succumbed and joined the masses.

Some younger family members seem only capable of communicating this way.

I'm not proud of myself.

I'm now on face-pest.

It's not a duplication of the blog, although some posts might also appear there too. It's a personal page - just me,.family, some friends and a few friends of friends. It's relaxed, comfy and a bit less pc than here. I've even got my photo on there.  It's not a public site. That I'm not ready for.

If you're on facebook and would like to drop me a request please feel free.

See you later.

listening to

Thursday, 6 September 2012

For my Lovely PT

We’ve known each other for a long time and though I’ve changed over time the years have never touched you the way they have me. You are still…..well the word that comes first to mind is beautiful: definitely beautiful. Some might not agree but you are beautiful. You always will be. You’re much older than me but you look amazing, even after all these years. I love the shape of each perfect limb and the strength in you. You move with such grace, such gentleness and yet you have a wildness to you, a need to be free. You dance as if to the most beautiful music: to the song of the sea wind. 

I know your skin isn’t the way it was when you were young. That doesn’t matter. I love the feel of you in my hand, the way you sometimes shiver if I touch you or sigh softly when I’m close and the way I’m always aware of your presence when I’m near you. I love your aloofness, your lofty disdain for the insignificant things that worry me. I love the way you speak. You say nothing and I hear you inside. You whisper and I have to stop whatever I’m doing to catch what you are trying to say. I love our moments together, a sunny afternoon or shared autumn evening in the cool of the garden. Sometimes I just have to sit beside you. It calms me just to be near. 

I love the things you give. They're precious to me no matter how often – or rarely – you might be able to part with them. I’ve tried to take good care of you over the years but I’m awkward at times. I’ve never been confident that way. You understand – don't you. You’ve been so forgiving. I don’t spend as much time with you as I should but you’re always there and that makes me happy. I smile each and every time I see you. I look forward to coming back to you again. I can't imagine being without you.

More than that: I think a wee bit of me loves you. 

I'd never tell you though.
You’re just an old pear tree.


See you later.


Listening to:

Linlithgow Loch

I went to Linlithgow yesterday through work but while there took a walk round the loch beside the old Royal Palace.

I used a polarising filter to bring out some of the highlights in the sky.

Got some of the horizons squint {although I'll fix that in photoshop later}

See you later.

Listening to:

Sunday, 2 September 2012

A tail for Sunday.

Couldn't help laughing at this one.

See you later.

Listening to:

The Sunday Posts 2012/dreams of chickens

For My Lovely G.

Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens

Last night I dreamed of chickens,
there were chickens everywhere,
they were standing on my stomach,
they were nesting in my hair,
they were pecking at my pillow,
they were hopping on my head,
they were ruffling up their feathers
as they raced about my bed.

They were on the chairs and tables,
they were on the chandeliers,
they were roosting in the corners,
they were clucking in my ears,
there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see...
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.

Jack Prelutsky
Photo by Alistair

The Sunday Posts 2017/Mince and Tatties.

Mince and Tatties I dinna like hail tatties Pit on my plate o mince For when I tak my denner I eat them baith at yince. Sae mash ...