Posts from — March 2010

STOP in the name of love!

Lollipop by "Blues"

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Dilapidated house in Lewis - by "Blues"

It was not an easy living and the kids eventually had to leave home to work over the water. They came back from time to time but then the old man died and there was no longer a reason to make the trip. The building lay empty and locked until one winter a storm ripped slates off the roof. The subsequent decline was rapid and the cottage soon became fit only for sheep and nesting birds. Never again would that hearth see a roaring fire in the grate.

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Clippety-clop the hooves rang clear,
The Highwayman came riding,
Brave and with no fear,
Bang bang, the guards had fallen,
He cut the ropes off Bess,
And the Highwayman came riding away,
From the old inn’s distress.

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Come on Rack, it’s time to hack,
That cable mess, I do distress,
Always the night, to end this fight.
Now feel my rage, as I strip your cage,
You’re left to bare… I no longer care!

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South Uist Sunset - by Blues

I look at this scene and feel calm, the serenity of the South Uist sunset. The derelict building, a black cut out on the darkened promontory, is a focus for the mind on life on the island. Summer now but a different proposition in winter. As if I am being lulled into a false sense of wellbeing.

I spend a few minutes gazing and then retire to the cottage. The oil lamp is already lit. There is no fire in the hearth but the smell of peat lingers, mingling well with the whisky in my glass. We sit around the table in the kitchen and talk long into the night.

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Graffiti1 by Blues

hidden art
conflict of emotion
paint by discard
sewer of creativity
avoided filled void
afficionadoless

Graffiti3 by Blues

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photo - "jura dawn" by Blues

waters gently lap
whilst the light slowly
grows in intensity,
nature’s perfect alarm clock
a gradual awakening,
reflection on the day ahead,
eastern promise exclaimed
in western islands, perfect

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one casts shadows
the other provides shade
church tower – tree
tree – church tower
rhyme or reason
personal decision

photo "church spire Mull" by Blues

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roll ‘em
fill ‘em full of whisky and roll ‘em

line ‘em up like gas-bloated porkers
brim with potential and gasping for kicks

release to an audience of nosey savants
significant savour,
bar brawl, shameful mix

full, of anticipation
empty, filling with expectation
or deepest reflection, innermost feeling

a cycle, start again
roll ‘em
fill ‘em full of whisky and roll ‘em

photo - Barrels by Blues

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My homepage is Google. It all started there. Don‘t ask me how because I never know where it is going to take me. Normally I just sit there and let it take over. Sometimes I just visit the same old sites. Every day. No imagination but I don’t really care. It’s a comfort factor. A bit like sitting in the same armchair day in day out. Same pair of familiar slippers maybe.

Anyway on this day I decided to do it differently. Like driving to work in a different way to the way you normally go. When I drive to work I’m usually on autopilot anyway. I don’t notice the route. I set off and I get there. Sometimes I [Read more →]

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The suspension on this one can be quite firm. If you are looking for passenger comfort you want a Mercedes.

Conversation overheard whilst passing a parked coach, one driver talking to another.

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Landlords at the Strugglers Inn, Westgate, Lincoln.

1838 Philip Ball
1854 Mary Ann Bal
1856 Philip Ball Jnr
1869 Charles Frost
1875 William Roberts
1890 Thomas Thorndyke
1899 Charles Hagues
1904 Frank Brumpton
1917 Harriet Brumpton
1924 Patcick Markham
1935 Arthur Woodcock
1944 Amelia Wardle
1960 Charles R Wood
1966 Frank Ormsby
1988 Philip Hockney
1996 Anthony Reany
1996 Christopher Mansell
15/10/1999 Heidi Raabe

Note I’m going to have to go back and check some of these names.  I can’t understand my own handwriting sometimes, especially after a beer.

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I know all the staff there.
Des has been in the chippy business all his life
I went there last Friday
they were queueing outside the door
it was raining and
I had to shelter under the awning outside
the queue was still the same length
even when I got to the front
he is moving to new premises
hopefully in July
the old Waggon and Horses

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a fleeting sadness
the losing raffle tickets
71 – 75 pink

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it was a gentle spring evening
tshirt weather
we were just coming out of winter
they were dancing in the Strugglers
the music rocked that night
the lone guitarist
with harmonica and voice
he knew all the requests
a potent combination
good beer and good music
not a lager in sight
just one more for the road
my cab arrived
and I left knowing it was too soon

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