We were twins.
Dandelion-and-burdock, lemonade, even medicines
would be measured glass against glass.
To each his equal share.
Anything else would have been ‘not fair’.
May 15, 2010
3RD LAW OF TINTERNET – Part 4
I was out kayaking this morning and drifting around in the breeze on the lake my mind drifted up to see lots of fluffy white clouds drifting by. I thought to myself, how wonderful. I thought how can I write something artistic about those fluffy white clouds? But then it occurred to me that it must be practically impossible to write anything about fluffy white clouds that hasn’t already been written. They are such an obvious thing for people to get all wistful and romantic about.
The old lateral thinking machine did kick in and I then had one of those eureka moments. Clouds = internet. Hmm. A bit tenuous really. How do you go from kayaking and then watching clouds to talking about tinternet? Who cares.
May 14, 2010
Dave Cameron’s familiar cabinet
David (Dave) Cameron
Nick Clegg
William (Bill) Hague
George (George) Osborne
Vince (Vinny) Cable
Liam (Foxy) Fox
Andrew (Andy) Lansley
Chris Huhne
Ken (Kenny) Clarke
Theresa (Tree) May
Michael (Mike) Gove
David (Dave) Laws
Danny (Boy) Alexander
Eric (Ricky) Pickles
Jeremy (Jezzer) Hunt
Iain (Ee) Duncan Smith
Baroness (Baz) Warsi
The birds were in full voice that night
The birds were in full voice that night, as if it was the first spring.
I drove back through the greenery of the Lincolnshire countryside with the windows of the Jeep wide open.
Coming up to 9pm it was still daylight and the hedgerows were alive with noise.
Breathing in deeply I could smell new growth and it made me glad to be alive.
The reddening sky to the West bode well for the next day and there was hardly any traffic on the road which made for comfortable driving.
As I approached the outskirts of Lincoln a gentle dusk fell over the city and the lights added a pleasant warmth to the scene.
I turned in to the drive and went in to a bottle of Pauillac that I had opened to breathe before setting off on my journey.
innocent leaves
innocent leaves vulnerable
delicate unaware delicacy
plucked before prime
or
left to harden
grow old venous
ugly shrivelled dry
goddam seagull shit
goddam seagull shit, gets everywhere.
don’t they teach those birds manners?
kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
never mind the yellow
kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
never mind the yellow
kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
never mind the yellow
kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
kissin’ the red
never mind the yellow
bad dad jack the lad
bad dad jack the lad
shut the fridge door!
shut the fridge door!
bad dad jack the lad
shut the fridge door!
May 12, 2010
Scouts trample old dears to death in St Georges Day parade
Dramatic headlines I’m sure you will agree and not one you would expect to see in the peaceful environs of the City of Lincoln’s uphill area. This shocking event did indeed take place one Sunday as the massed bands of the District Scout Groups led a column of well drilled St Georges Day marchers around the Cathedral, across the square and into the castle.
One might associate a Boy Scout, and perhaps the occasional Girl Guide or Brownie with someone who runs amok in the woods, lighting campfires and generally getting dirty in the most ill disciplined of fashions. The modern movement however is one that has benefited from decades of progress in training on “how to handle the yoof”.
May 10, 2010
the new member of staff
She breezed in at the beginning of one Autumn Term. We had spent the summer lazing in our back gardens, trying to find some respite from the harsh sun that scorched Lincolnshire’s open plains. The county had a big sky with very little to fill it apart from the Cathedral and that didn’t throw enough shade.
In the summer months the Bishop himself could be found hugging the walls of this edifice, slowly edging along with the shadows as the sun moved around. Periodically he would escape to refill his chalice from the font. His vestments were a serious impediment to health during these times. Hot and airless. The mitre clung to his damp forehead and the sweat ran into his eyes stinging and making him blink.
The Return of the Blackbirds
The Canton cockerel stopped crowing some time ago. A shame really because I enjoyed hearing the sound. Perhaps someone who lived closer to it got a bit fed up though. Or maybe the urban foxes found it. But yesterday was a great day. Yesterday was the day the blackbirds came back into my life. They’ve been largely missing since I moved away from Balham. I used to be able to open the windows at the back of the flat and listen to the evening conversations of the blackbirds across the myriad Balham back gardens. Beautiful. And now they’ve found my garden in Canton. Let’s hope they don’t get chased away by the territorial magpie or either of the two cats who periodically fight over the privilege of sitting on my decking.
May 8, 2010
THIRD LAW OF TINTERNET Part 3
I’ve been potting some chilli plants. Got the seeds a few weeks ago in Focus Do It All and sowed them in a tray in the conservatory. As if by magic the seedlings started to come through and got to a point where I deemed it appropriate to move them into pots. In all I have 20 or so, some of which I have moved outside and one that I took In to the office. When I am not in my room I jack the aircon temperature up as high as it will go. He he he. Looking forward to plenty of burn later in the year when I get harvesting.
I’m not really a gardener. I live just down the road from Tesco. However it is sometimes nice to do gardening type stuff. Usually it is a rush of blood that gets things into the ground but after that the weeds take control. Pesky things :). I did plant a lot of peas one year and managed to get a couple of portions out of it all. Shame really because (more…)
May 6, 2010
goodbye, miss dunleavy
goodbye, miss dunleavy, goodbye
miss dunleavy, miss dunleavy
rolls off the tongue, rolls off the tongue
goodbye, miss dunleavy, goodbye
those words bring a tear to my eye
you did your bit, for my boy
goodbye, miss dunleavy, goodbye
No goodbye
He turned for one last look at the children and walked away. They carried on playing with their friends, laughing and screaming as kids do, taking no notice of the fact that he was going. Turning a corner he was out of sight and soon he could no longer hear them. He shoved his hands in his pockets and quickened his pace.