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Showing posts from December, 2015

Crivens Jings Happy Hogmanay

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As this year ebbs away and we prepare for The New I wish you all the very best for 2016. A very happy and peaceful New Year ain an a'.

Slainte Mhath!

Merry Christmas one and all.

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I wish you all the compliments of the season and hope you and yours have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Awra best for 2016.

Alistair.

The Sunday Posts 2015/Dilemma

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I want to be
         famous
so I can be
         humble
about being
         famous.

What good is my
         humility
when I am
         stuck
in this
         obscurity?

David Budbill
Photo by Alistair

The Sunday Posts 2015/ Grandmother

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By the time I knew my grandmother she was dead.Before that she was where I thought she stood,Spectacles, slippers, venerable head, A standard-issue twinkle in her eyes – Familiar stage-props of grandmotherhood.It took her death to teach me they were lies.
My sixteen-year-old knowingness was shockedTo hear her family narrate her pastIn quiet nostalgic chorus. As they talkedHer body stiffened on the muted fastThough well washed linen coverlet of her bed.
The kitchen where we sat, a room I knew,Took on a strangeness with each word they said.How she was born where wealth was pennies, grewInto a woman before she was a girl,
From dirt and pain constructed happiness,Shed youth’s dreams in the fierce sweat of a mill,Married and mothered in her sixteenth year,Fed children from her own mouth’s emptinessIn an attic rats owned half of, liked her beer.
Careless, they scattered pictures: mother, wife,Strikes lived through, hard concessions bought and soldIn a level-headed bargaining with life,Told anec…