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.
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.
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.......
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.
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.
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.
