April 16, 2010
April 10, 2010
‘D’ Day
They’re on the beaches.
We’ll fight them, then.
Nearly 70 years on, in fact.
Welcome to an unseasonably warm IOM.
Dara Ó Briain ticket for Wednesday available for Hannah.
Downside? She has to come with me.
Upside? Transport both ways for Hannah.
cans of lager
can of lager
can of lager
psshtttt
psshtttt
can of lager
can of lager
psshtttt
psshtttt
April 5, 2010
Guest Beers at the Victoria April 1st 2010
Mauldon’s Cuckoo (4.3%) £3.05
Dixons Colour of Spring (4.2%) £2.95
Butcombe Gold (4.4%) £3.15
Batemans Eggs-B (4.2%) £2.95
April 4, 2010
THIRD LAW OF TINTERNET part 2
I’m back in my usual seat in the corner of the kitchen. It’s a pew we bought from Anne’s church, St Peter in Eastgate, for £130. I’m told that the going rate at auction is £30 but what the heck. It’s charidee. £130 is what the new flexible seating costs per seat.
The church’s loss is my gain. As seats go it is absolutely rock solid. Bedded in by thousands of bottoms, mostly now dead and buried. There is something poetic about having it in the kitchen with me, a confirmed atheist, sat on it writing. I also eat on it of course. The kids fight to sit on it when we are eating.
April 2, 2010
The April Rain
The April rain beats down on the roof. It comes in waves, like I’m being gently massaged by expert hands. Not showers but steady persistent wetness. Looking out I am comfortable. My face slumps. I can feel those fingertips caressing my temple. “Relax” the voice says.
The stillness inside contrasts with the constant motion of the hedge outside the window.
Drops convene and race others down the glass. Every one is a winner.
No place to hide
The end of the road is a long long way
and with storm clouds gathering
there is no place to hide,
I think of the friends I have left behind
and wonder what they are doing,
wish they were with me on this long long ride
Photo – Lewis weather by Blues
March 31, 2010
March 29, 2010
Not An Easy Living
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.
The Highwayman
Clippety-clop the hooves rang clear,
The Highwayman came riding,
Brave and with no fear,
Bang hoe werkt bang, the guards had fallen,
He cut the ropes off Bess,
And the Highwayman came riding away,
From the old inn’s distress.
Rack Off
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!
March 28, 2010
South Uist Sunset
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.