tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89595462577662009802024-03-05T10:40:34.699+00:00The Readiness Is AllA reader writes....Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.comBlogger358125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-75794160767583664362023-12-09T13:00:00.006+00:002023-12-17T13:10:01.468+00:00Sam's first Secret Santa weekend<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijcWWRRy8yK4etgH5KRDLCyAp6IM5_PQSR8T_EEuWusjSnZU0xz_jPlgmtzAKPkAf-R8QTYmMg8JoVLyQS0zN2usQOoylCkRdLSLOyni4XhHTEi3mhupB-DbvkBuN8A3I5LxPjqxwaumr31csfT94QTc5R4hSEnY8exE2RFikL9OI-djJTiAG_I83YtWKW" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">December treats</span></b></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLmNM7Ee3ZSH7YZxhFcPM1P1onSKgb3bPGwWvxa-gGeaiWhuK6BGr0Ey7fbPtF5lVxUK7Z0oDEUr8y14VN6-uXMphXoKlwAzZt-TmG_ugUMc3fzQOPLTW439YLjazcHE93ogJ-ApgnWuCYwYJdUMQ6Xs4DvNLSqa_T329S7v9h5hPz8_IXZlxe9lvUXH5X/s2000/Sam%20for%20FB.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLmNM7Ee3ZSH7YZxhFcPM1P1onSKgb3bPGwWvxa-gGeaiWhuK6BGr0Ey7fbPtF5lVxUK7Z0oDEUr8y14VN6-uXMphXoKlwAzZt-TmG_ugUMc3fzQOPLTW439YLjazcHE93ogJ-ApgnWuCYwYJdUMQ6Xs4DvNLSqa_T329S7v9h5hPz8_IXZlxe9lvUXH5X/w640-h640/Sam%20for%20FB.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">It's tradition we go to Badby for a Secret Santa weekend every year and 2023 saw the Allard-Baker-Grimley-Johnson-Thompson numbers swelled by one.... not a very big or old one but a significant one in our lives at the moment.</span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-25559291680803162252023-02-19T17:03:00.000+00:002023-02-19T17:03:35.885+00:00Enter Sam<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnQyIkZi0F4U9yPpUW_W05FjctklD9y2LRuCaDun7CtaFureeH6F6fC6xZe_V2_LaZExIkgZTQPwR5mA8zIEuVaZfkXP9viH9YVgXG3GrhKy4GXMLqC7IixszXwXdkf8ub1wtr91WAd5sx_CvxYjW6lRZer99Saof_izHdhgBLC7cl0UivmlipbXq9w/s2000/1.%20Hospital.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnQyIkZi0F4U9yPpUW_W05FjctklD9y2LRuCaDun7CtaFureeH6F6fC6xZe_V2_LaZExIkgZTQPwR5mA8zIEuVaZfkXP9viH9YVgXG3GrhKy4GXMLqC7IixszXwXdkf8ub1wtr91WAd5sx_CvxYjW6lRZer99Saof_izHdhgBLC7cl0UivmlipbXq9w/w640-h640/1.%20Hospital.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Welcome to the world, Sam</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>Filling dreams</b></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">And so, something unique happened this last week – unique to me, but an astonishingly common occurrence throughout history and across the world. But this thing has never happened to me before. I took on a new identity – Grandfather/Grandad/Grandpa/Poppa/some other word – when a new member of my family arrived. I’m assuming <b><span style="color: red;">Sam</span></b> – for that is he – will decide what to call me at some point in the next few years. Sam is a lucky little guy arriving in a loving family in a lovely (new) home in a lovely corner of Planet Earth near shops, woods, a meadow, railways (big and miniature), a canal, a river, a valley, hills and dales and enough sky, clouds and wuthering weather to fill his dreams.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRHiV9wsV3xon45Hv8QXRyekn7z4G0v9obRKu4rURrP0drYRvFB-mmjVNjysisXS_N8AYipHHGjkGZJZRIvO83T-1JnWDmb57Ht1N2aGyaIm4TiymcsTpt3F3Vz3ug9twQcAV7SidEDDB7H-b1WSb0zXlf_mWP7Je-mJgm1YS_zXhsZxiuSUKmP4FqtA/s2000/2.%20Homecoming.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRHiV9wsV3xon45Hv8QXRyekn7z4G0v9obRKu4rURrP0drYRvFB-mmjVNjysisXS_N8AYipHHGjkGZJZRIvO83T-1JnWDmb57Ht1N2aGyaIm4TiymcsTpt3F3Vz3ug9twQcAV7SidEDDB7H-b1WSb0zXlf_mWP7Je-mJgm1YS_zXhsZxiuSUKmP4FqtA/w640-h640/2.%20Homecoming.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Arriving home</b></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">At first the infant</span></b><br /><span style="font-size: large;">What can I say in a blog about my first grandchild? My brain, heart, guts and soul are rollercoasting with thoughts, imaginings and feelings. Shakespeare’s most famous quotation about babies is negative (but funny):<br /></span></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;"> All the world’s a stage,</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">And all the men and women merely players;</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">They have their exits and their entrances;</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">And one man in his time plays many parts,</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms….</span></span></b></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><b></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMC-VRq2UPMSFIpHndLlJabgruVg52mpUf0cjdmfY1B-2dK8XYJUZrOm4znx_icMdzQ8R08agtbkY0KXzZOAedSyUEbitsMcSlH99cHaMHyoxY1mfK85o3edlYOiGtgeUG1VKnEhg0inAFVpwtd5wDcLG0E_M1AwivcECO0ilYeq6VhIzWnLJHjVPKdg/s2000/3.%20Auntie%20Em.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMC-VRq2UPMSFIpHndLlJabgruVg52mpUf0cjdmfY1B-2dK8XYJUZrOm4znx_icMdzQ8R08agtbkY0KXzZOAedSyUEbitsMcSlH99cHaMHyoxY1mfK85o3edlYOiGtgeUG1VKnEhg0inAFVpwtd5wDcLG0E_M1AwivcECO0ilYeq6VhIzWnLJHjVPKdg/w640-h640/3.%20Auntie%20Em.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cuddle with Auntie Em</td></tr></tbody></table><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">Things to look forward to….</span></b><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Sam’s in his First Stage of Life and as well as mewling and puking, I’m sure he’ll do some <b><i>drinking, feeding, </i></b></span><b style="font-size: large;"><i>looking, tracking, </i></b><b style="font-size: large;"><i>gurgling, babbling, chortling, biting, reaching, gripping, grabbing, staring, hugging, kissing, tickling, waving, clapping, dancing, pushing, pulling, rolling, sitting, </i></b><b style="font-size: large;"><i>crawling, </i></b><b style="font-size: large;"><i>holding, pointing, smiling, laughing….</i></b><span style="font-size: large;"> And hopefully a goodly amount of </span><b style="font-size: large;"><i>sleeping</i></b><span style="font-size: large;">. And that’s before this time next year. Until then, a couple of poems.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_WKeL6Z0bJxJCoeUD-IsIRCOjM0XUJdqrkDgWd1PNt7aI7fJo3Y4HdaBJHws3B-_t27ujAsfLtd3-6LzWXVxPBPO0K8RZMpSvrDYhi28Yi3pDHczNI0GKpfOT-QnfufNy9o6r0uB5ct1aQURUg59uQKql0yIwCDz3x2tbeIHsgrJjJgRnr_C83WNM7w/s2000/4.%20Cora.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_WKeL6Z0bJxJCoeUD-IsIRCOjM0XUJdqrkDgWd1PNt7aI7fJo3Y4HdaBJHws3B-_t27ujAsfLtd3-6LzWXVxPBPO0K8RZMpSvrDYhi28Yi3pDHczNI0GKpfOT-QnfufNy9o6r0uB5ct1aQURUg59uQKql0yIwCDz3x2tbeIHsgrJjJgRnr_C83WNM7w/w640-h640/4.%20Cora.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>"I thought we'd agreed," said Cora, "it was just the three of us...."</b></td></tr></tbody></table><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">Joy is my name</span></b><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Infant Joy</span></i></b><br /><span style="font-size: large;">by William Blake</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘I have no name.<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">I am but two days old.’<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">What shall I call thee?<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">‘I happy am.<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Joy is my name.’<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Sweet Joy befall thee!</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">Pretty Joy!<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Sweet Joy but two day’s old.<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Sweet Joy I call thee:<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Thou dost smile.<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">I sing the while.<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Sweet joy befall thee.</span></span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM6auhX_U-SbYWbjCmTI0h4QfatiuY-v3zUR0C6Pb4ByNFZlb7ivtFm13JzQOZaefsjkgAeDHM0IijX4DgYsYvm3KYocpQ7rJnc2vx0gxs05sMNn2pWbaeZX5BTXEb9Oco_Qre5ibUl-XVj3fmVxd-FQoF8FSHnhC6DlWnYe6SRDaCTNiPo9tj3DykwA/s2000/5.%20Meet%20the%20Family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM6auhX_U-SbYWbjCmTI0h4QfatiuY-v3zUR0C6Pb4ByNFZlb7ivtFm13JzQOZaefsjkgAeDHM0IijX4DgYsYvm3KYocpQ7rJnc2vx0gxs05sMNn2pWbaeZX5BTXEb9Oco_Qre5ibUl-XVj3fmVxd-FQoF8FSHnhC6DlWnYe6SRDaCTNiPo9tj3DykwA/w640-h640/5.%20Meet%20the%20Family.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>First Meetings</b></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">Dark, peaceful, sacred…</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Although Carol Ann Duffy (like Blake, one of my favourite poets) writes the following to her daughter, it’s easy to imagine beyond the pronouns to any child, any time, any where, any when…</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;">A Child's Sleep </span></i></b><br /><span style="font-size: large;">by Carol Ann Duffy</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">I stood at the edge of my child's sleep<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">hearing her breathe;<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">although I could not enter there,<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">I could not leave.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">Her sleep was a small wood,<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">perfumed with flowers;<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">dark, peaceful, sacred,<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">acred in hours.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">And she was the spirit that lives<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">in the heart of such woods;<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">without time, without history,<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">wordlessly good.</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">I spoke her name, a pebble dropped<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">in the still night,<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">and saw her stir, both open palms<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">cupping their soft light;</span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><span style="font-size: large;">then went to the window. The greater dark<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">outside the room<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">gazed back, maternal, wise,<br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">with its face of moon.</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: trebuchet;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilypM0NhAetIYygiLP6xi41O5gkUsEzpsV3gYmuI0L5_5u7v6Bh2l-qPHT9dFHmSBqog0M_GNWSNXtm3UizEr1BHhpc6Yfjxp49rLxdHaobIul-0LTBlAd8rnsrYzgJyM6jASZP4wof5Q64wI6FeGXah3PkJ3O6W3JCwety2Z1RkeCcnVeaCzoC5ppA/s2000/6.%20Sam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilypM0NhAetIYygiLP6xi41O5gkUsEzpsV3gYmuI0L5_5u7v6Bh2l-qPHT9dFHmSBqog0M_GNWSNXtm3UizEr1BHhpc6Yfjxp49rLxdHaobIul-0LTBlAd8rnsrYzgJyM6jASZP4wof5Q64wI6FeGXah3PkJ3O6W3JCwety2Z1RkeCcnVeaCzoC5ppA/w640-h640/6.%20Sam.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Samuel Miles Grimley</b></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-62133107832567144942022-12-10T08:51:00.001+00:002022-12-13T09:09:13.797+00:00Glad All Over<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqgOZ5f5UlWCZeYKXcu-M9x-LBWc9qddoBc1p01JN_4NjhhdJ9p-vMbftCykX3SC8To0x60uppp62MhrxlSVEG4ACegxWwdnEBcVwbVISq-Y0b-Sdj-lj1-AJHuV-nIgTjm3KOSSXgMvUJgzbbDRFP-mnISIJV1EaPUE83c2i_BUo1r2G613u-07kemQ/s2000/!%20Emily%20Graduate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqgOZ5f5UlWCZeYKXcu-M9x-LBWc9qddoBc1p01JN_4NjhhdJ9p-vMbftCykX3SC8To0x60uppp62MhrxlSVEG4ACegxWwdnEBcVwbVISq-Y0b-Sdj-lj1-AJHuV-nIgTjm3KOSSXgMvUJgzbbDRFP-mnISIJV1EaPUE83c2i_BUo1r2G613u-07kemQ/w640-h640/!%20Emily%20Graduate.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><b>Thousands of thunderous claps</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">About a recent graduation day I’ve got little to say. Neither has Sally. Those who know us, know how profoundly proud we are of both our daughters. But this day… oh, on this graduation day… there was such a realisation… oh my… And I’m feeling Glad All Over.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8boc8Q8-y-yfRQ4xge0rP7LRxPbKqBFOMWbD1sfPc8F1dUfXPYNumSMmNLCiMjTQoLRe_Ho9LXUsxukbsrwQjyxLEhTwiQeJZ4hAKv4tpyrtKay5k9iucRvFUxcWMubbkrnKtGrGstNKLgS4oa-wD3k8Iwo6DlDpOBF8ej2UOJNccW0JZQfGGRn6iw/s2000/!%20First%20Class%20Honours.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU8boc8Q8-y-yfRQ4xge0rP7LRxPbKqBFOMWbD1sfPc8F1dUfXPYNumSMmNLCiMjTQoLRe_Ho9LXUsxukbsrwQjyxLEhTwiQeJZ4hAKv4tpyrtKay5k9iucRvFUxcWMubbkrnKtGrGstNKLgS4oa-wD3k8Iwo6DlDpOBF8ej2UOJNccW0JZQfGGRn6iw/w640-h640/!%20First%20Class%20Honours.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;">Don’t mention the….</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">And the Vice-chancellor mentioned the pandemic and used Hashtag Hero Tropes (LOL). But she did avoid mentioning the (historically unprecedented) forthcoming strikes by health professional (and many other hard-working groups of people.) <span style="color: #800180;">Wasn’t it funny</span> how the government helped settle the lawyers’ strike in October with very little press attention? (Look it up if you don’t believe me.) <span style="color: #800180;">Wasn’t it funny</span> how MPs received a no-dispute, guaranteed 2.7% increase? <span style="color: #800180;">Wasn’t it funny</span> how big industries paid bonuses to their shareholders? <span style="color: #800180;">Wasn’t it funny</span> how PPE contracts were awarded to…. Oh, shut up. What's most important?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsdX13_UY5ZF2EAfxWRkOr-9nmxbtw39Vff_Er3v-J0FKaGmaeFpWLF9KoCvrUmIsfOsst6l2UBGr9qBmHIR7PbHxGANa7pOpDjaNpRuk-v5WNaleLf_Z4qfExQQ0OC3MInEdMkBA7LunPst3WvjtMrob1KDn85SmXzZU9t-oRsVHvSxAv5sOkzTsPA/s2000/!%20Social%20Care.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsdX13_UY5ZF2EAfxWRkOr-9nmxbtw39Vff_Er3v-J0FKaGmaeFpWLF9KoCvrUmIsfOsst6l2UBGr9qBmHIR7PbHxGANa7pOpDjaNpRuk-v5WNaleLf_Z4qfExQQ0OC3MInEdMkBA7LunPst3WvjtMrob1KDn85SmXzZU9t-oRsVHvSxAv5sOkzTsPA/w640-h640/!%20Social%20Care.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><b><span style="color: #800180; font-size: x-large;">Looking the other way</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">There are people who spend countless hours gnashing teeth because of some royal nonsense (and I’m a royalist, don’t forget) because the newspapers want us to focus our rage on celebrities and not on government decisions (or lack of decisions.) The government (and the majority of the newspapers) want us to focus on Meghan and Harry. <span style="color: #800180;"><b>So we will forget food banks, child poverty, the rotting fruit and vegetable fields of England and the understaffed, underfunded social care system and understaffed, underfunded NHS</b></span>. Look the other way, everybody. We’re in this together. But just because it’s <b><i><span style="color: #800180;">my</span></i></b> blog, please see below:</span></div><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;">the Brexit bus promise (lest we forget) (LOL)</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">UK hospital beds compared to Germany, France, Italy, Spain (2005 – 2019)</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">a right-wing newspaper doing my statistical work for me</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">UK Food Bank use (just Trussell, not independent) (2009 – 2022)</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">MP’s salaries (2010 – 2022)</span></li></ul><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I’m Glad All Over for my Echo Chamber, but Distinctly Unglad for our (Potentially) Great (Diminishing) Nation.</span></p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieVVMgE4qJrJA1ggesLtHBvagrP0u4YXKcJSs9PjAZupleVqZ4gvRrCPieQAIyFRTpYVnvYPoX06m24MPtxdi1tsqkGYPYrpCtlL3mcud-Vv295VYJDcJbVBYNPCO9hKkeuq2Y8qHJF_LFkRPwmJF6djo5ZQ5GtdJSScjDfaoGFFMiYWAUHBccDDjltQ/s2000/!%20Brexit%20Bus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieVVMgE4qJrJA1ggesLtHBvagrP0u4YXKcJSs9PjAZupleVqZ4gvRrCPieQAIyFRTpYVnvYPoX06m24MPtxdi1tsqkGYPYrpCtlL3mcud-Vv295VYJDcJbVBYNPCO9hKkeuq2Y8qHJF_LFkRPwmJF6djo5ZQ5GtdJSScjDfaoGFFMiYWAUHBccDDjltQ/w640-h640/!%20Brexit%20Bus.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graphs: hospital beds, food bank use in UK, MP's salaries over time</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-54347388462828934102022-12-03T10:45:00.000+00:002022-12-03T10:45:30.006+00:002022 Advent<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA37xs3v5nW_GlDVKepvR2rYncQOnA2bnazsqhrZou0XOlifsFpupTcXwvxJEF6oX7UA3_YessVJhvPY06pBW_cSivvSTHf19msxxLP321-YnNzjydARGqgZEYfZCvyqLjD55-XGa2KqAGKYRXE7ZbCq4ZG9JOU6M0kfgG246iRaEfLaS3afaSpuM6lg/s2000/Restarting%20Blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA37xs3v5nW_GlDVKepvR2rYncQOnA2bnazsqhrZou0XOlifsFpupTcXwvxJEF6oX7UA3_YessVJhvPY06pBW_cSivvSTHf19msxxLP321-YnNzjydARGqgZEYfZCvyqLjD55-XGa2KqAGKYRXE7ZbCq4ZG9JOU6M0kfgG246iRaEfLaS3afaSpuM6lg/w640-h640/Restarting%20Blog.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p>Spot the Differences</span></b><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It's been a goodly strange few years and there are many differences between now and any point in the past: one week, one month, one year, or two or three or four weeks, months and years ago. And in some ways it seems like the world in going to hell in a hand cart. And in other ways it seems that life is a bowl of cherries. Whatever that means. But December comes round again and, although there have certainly been some profound things happening on a personal level over the last year, the leaves have just about fallen, the frost's beginning to pinch, the winter fog is creeping through the country and <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2019/12/sues-stockings.html" target="_blank">the Advent stockings</a> are in place. Hello December.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4869ivoKep-933xnCIvevnF90FVDlIYBZUv8XKZGLgit1uHBst5gpGI2JCrNlf_Y_UUA6IdUrUq9vyqUOX_4PK4ooAm0MAD6xPgbtCoo9T27I32UG5oHBjARUCIn75Gla9iNqOjcDroOeN-nb-0lEsZxTKUmYqxBnG6ZsOz1drdeXq0AZ-XfN35yv9A/s1600/2022%20Advent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4869ivoKep-933xnCIvevnF90FVDlIYBZUv8XKZGLgit1uHBst5gpGI2JCrNlf_Y_UUA6IdUrUq9vyqUOX_4PK4ooAm0MAD6xPgbtCoo9T27I32UG5oHBjARUCIn75Gla9iNqOjcDroOeN-nb-0lEsZxTKUmYqxBnG6ZsOz1drdeXq0AZ-XfN35yv9A/w640-h480/2022%20Advent.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span> <p></p>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-8951128376651083172021-11-20T07:37:00.016+00:002021-12-10T07:48:55.060+00:00Tale of Two Teeth<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: x-large;"><b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GdLThyiKnNk/YbMFkjYCwQI/AAAAAAAAFD8/hKkQxT-vHhcsQaAIdyd8eDg2gqTuV2USACNcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2BTeeth.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GdLThyiKnNk/YbMFkjYCwQI/AAAAAAAAFD8/hKkQxT-vHhcsQaAIdyd8eDg2gqTuV2USACNcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2BTeeth.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happiness is being boosted, lovely food, reading for pleasure....</td></tr></tbody></table>Oh I wish I’d looked after me teeth</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So recited </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Pam Ayres MBE</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> in her famous poem </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H6g1I37_r1E" target="_blank">I wish I’d looked after me teeth</a></i></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> with her cavalcade of witty rhymes: </span><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">chewed/food, willin’/fillin’, gobstoppers/choppers, licked/picked, careless/hairless.</span></i></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> For someone like me who could be described as <span style="color: #2b00fe;">a gastronome, an epicurist, a gourmand</span> (look them up – they all amount to the same thing – <span style="color: #2b00fe;">a greedy gobbler</span>) – I can concur – <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">I wish I’d looked after me teeth</span></b>. But my cheerful dentist spotted that, during my years of teaching, I’d been using my teeth as tools and, for example, ripping out stuck staplers with my incisors so my jaggedy gnashers were in danger of breaking. She spent an hour doing some wizardry and made them look better (I think.) So, fully boosted, I will continue to enjoy tasty oral pleasures as Autumn approaches Winter. And floss!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kZotS-WN3GA/YbMFvJup5gI/AAAAAAAAFEA/a0NqJZWeWsgQhb--s2kwu80umY8jM8MhgCNcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2BAutumn%2BFood.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kZotS-WN3GA/YbMFvJup5gI/AAAAAAAAFEA/a0NqJZWeWsgQhb--s2kwu80umY8jM8MhgCNcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2BAutumn%2BFood.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Autumn is in full swing and the home made curry dinners (courtesy of <a href="https://www.prashad.co.uk/" target="_blank">Prashad</a>) are here to warm the heart....</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-22582766056099670792021-11-13T08:36:00.063+00:002021-11-14T10:43:07.607+00:00As we recall those unlived years<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-family: arial; font-size: x-large;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cf3uO1FZ4bg/YZDNkWNg23I/AAAAAAAAFDA/rd7816THCtEpfJq5RsW8gVZuBXgvx4QAwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B1.%2BCentenary.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cf3uO1FZ4bg/YZDNkWNg23I/AAAAAAAAFDA/rd7816THCtEpfJq5RsW8gVZuBXgvx4QAwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B1.%2BCentenary.png" width="640" /></a></div>100 Years of Remembrance</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">2021 marks the centenary of the year (1921) when different elements of Remembrance were combined to create the traditions we know today: Armistice Day, the poppy symbol, the two-minute silence, the service for the Unknown Warrior and the march-past of veterans and dignitaries at monuments around the UK, including the Cenotaph in London. Regular readers will know my admiration for the <a href="https://www.britishlegion.org.uk/" target="_blank">Royal British Legion</a> and much more about the history of Remebrance can be found on their website.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-216vUN0wARk/YZDNsRF2rTI/AAAAAAAAFDE/qJ0zX4F8bd83pbL3pbGOEyjHdqtRbl8eACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B2.%2BPoppy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-216vUN0wARk/YZDNsRF2rTI/AAAAAAAAFDE/qJ0zX4F8bd83pbL3pbGOEyjHdqtRbl8eACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B2.%2BPoppy.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>Past, present, future</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">What I always reflect on is how inclusive remembrance is: men, women, young, old, all ethnicities, nationalities, religions and backgrounds can find a home within an act of remembrance. White, purple, black and rainbow poppy wearers can find a home. Most significantly, the grieving can find a home, </span><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">“a moment stolen for a tear.”</span></i></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> Lest we forget, we need to remember…. It is a process that should be applied to all aspects of leadership and political life…. <b>We need to know the past to understand the present and plan for a better future.</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p5ZuOxN3N7A/YZDNz-fTiWI/AAAAAAAAFDI/ijyYcyT63qAesdyBc-pjlhtpHc4Cfr9hACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B3.%2BDiversity.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p5ZuOxN3N7A/YZDNz-fTiWI/AAAAAAAAFDI/ijyYcyT63qAesdyBc-pjlhtpHc4Cfr9hACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B3.%2BDiversity.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We shall remember them</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>BFBS</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.bfbs.com/" target="_blank">British Forces Broadcasting Service (BFBS UK)</a> aims to provide TV, radio and internet entertainment and information to Britain’s Armed Forces and their dependents. They reach people around the globe and have permanent studios in (to date) 10 countries, as far afield as, for example, the Falkland Islands and Bahrain. They began in Algiers in 1943 and have consistently transmitted military news, live sport, and movies as well as material like the BBC’s children’s content to an increasing number of bases in remote settings and to families stationed at home and abroad.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BeUvYUK3lro/YZDOTfNUBoI/AAAAAAAAFDY/OmzLxcJAPx0vxSf9ZkZ0N2T50T4bo1JkgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B4.%2BBFBS.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BeUvYUK3lro/YZDOTfNUBoI/AAAAAAAAFDY/OmzLxcJAPx0vxSf9ZkZ0N2T50T4bo1JkgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B4.%2BBFBS.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>Ernie Rowe</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Ernie Rowe worked for 30 years at BFBS and penned her own poem in 2019 to add to the world’s growing collection of Remembrance poetry:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Remembered still those souls that tried</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">To save the world, but many died.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">A moment stolen for a tear,</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">As we recall those unlived years.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">The camaraderie that flew those souls</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Back home to those they knew,</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">And loved them dear and held them close</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">But for our sakes released to foes</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">The silence that they leave behind</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Is space to calm the troubled minds</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Of those they loved – and can’t rewind.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Again this day we give our thanks</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">For those returned from serving ranks</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">And them ‘as gave it all away</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Forever in our minds will stay.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XzlOn8F-G4Y/YZDOczQDh3I/AAAAAAAAFDc/v4J5j7CrULwvoQ5GvHlHYceMhMCLt4MtQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B5.%2BTattoos.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XzlOn8F-G4Y/YZDOczQDh3I/AAAAAAAAFDc/v4J5j7CrULwvoQ5GvHlHYceMhMCLt4MtQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B5.%2BTattoos.png" width="640" /></a></div></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Previous blogs featuring Remembrance as a theme:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><div><span style="font-size: medium;">•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2015/11/in-flanders-field-poppies-blow.html" target="_blank"><i>In Flanders field the poppies blow</i> – Saturday 7th November 2015</a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2015/11/falling-leaves-like-snowflakes.html" target="_blank"><i>Falling Leaves Like Snowflakes</i> – Wednesday 11th November 2015</a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2016/05/harrys-last-stand.html" target="_blank">Harry’s Last Stand – Saturday 28th May 2016</a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2016/08/bastille-day-2016.html" target="_blank">Bastille Day 2016 – Saturday 13th August 2016</a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2018/11/there-but-not-there.html" target="_blank">There but not there – Sunday 11th November 2018</a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2019/11/the-last-post.html" target="_blank"><i>The Last Post</i> – Monday 11th November 2019</a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2020/05/lockdown-ve-day.html" target="_blank">Lockdown VE Day (Blog 300) – Saturday 9th May 2020</a></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2020/11/autumn-rain.html" target="_blank"><i>Autumn Rain</i> – Saturday 7th November 2020</a></span></div><div style="font-size: large;"><br /></div></span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-45834183290585914532021-11-06T18:48:00.004+00:002021-11-10T07:40:06.262+00:00Hope the voyage is a long one<div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #660000;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: xx-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l5i7ikGv6MU/YYrGC5wMRyI/AAAAAAAAFA0/L3bQ40UW_fUq1jhYA1nKVzUULg76yUM5QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521.%2BDinner.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l5i7ikGv6MU/YYrGC5wMRyI/AAAAAAAAFA0/L3bQ40UW_fUq1jhYA1nKVzUULg76yUM5QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521.%2BDinner.png" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #660000;">John Keats</span></b>, in his famous <b><i><span style="color: #660000;">Ode to Autumn</span></i></b>, outlines, in three stanzas the abundant harvest of Autumn, then its hard-working processes and finally its descent into the potential of Winter…. <i><span style="color: #660000;">whatever Winter means</span></i>. Old age? Death? And Spring will surely come again….</span></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: medium;"><b>Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: medium;"><b> Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: medium;"><b>Conspiring with him how to load and bless</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: medium;"><b> With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run….</b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve just about emerged from the shadow of Covid and have my booster booked (go, me!) So, I find myself once again striding out to enjoy the burnished colours and low-lying sunlight of <b><span style="color: #660000;">Autumn</span></b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgWJ8ZCB_KU/YYrGSRVn6PI/AAAAAAAAFA4/1Y13icWGbiUdyM-U_RU-wHu7qAzkSgrawCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BAutumn.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgWJ8ZCB_KU/YYrGSRVn6PI/AAAAAAAAFA4/1Y13icWGbiUdyM-U_RU-wHu7qAzkSgrawCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BAutumn.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;"><b>Hope the voyage is a long one</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">As well as Keats, I’ve recently reached for the words of a Greek poet I admire, Konstantinos Petrou Kavafis, better known in English as <b><span style="color: #660000;">CP Cavafy</span></b>. I’ve pasted below one of his poems that reminds me to <b><i><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: verdana;">“not hurry the journey.”</span></i></b> To savour the here and now. The poem’s title, <b><i><span style="color: #660000;">Ithaka</span></i></b>, refers to the island home of <b><span style="color: #660000;">Odysseus</span></b>, the hero/antihero who took ten years to reach Ithaka (and his wife) after leaving the Trojan War. <b><i><span style="color: #660000;">Ithaka</span></i></b> captures the idea that life is so fleeting (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter….) that it is important to savour the journey, not to only focus on the destination. Shakespeare’s <b><i><a href="https://www.rsc.org.uk/the-comedy-of-errors/" target="_blank">Comedy of Errors</a></i></b> has themes of loss, travel, searching, finding your identity and reunion and a joyous production I saw in an outdoor theatre in summer in <b><span style="color: #660000;">Stratford-upon-Avon</span></b> made its way on tour to the <b><span style="color: #660000;">Alhambra Theatre</span></b> in <b><span style="color: #660000;">Bradford</span></b>. Welcome to the north, <b><span style="color: #660000;">Royal Shakespeare Company</span></b>! It was an uplifting return to live theatre:</span></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b><i>“after so long grief, such nativity.”</i></b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Moving, frantic, hilarious, inspiring. Like Keats, like Cavafy. <b><span style="color: #660000;">May all your voyages be long.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bMedPo7sEN0/YYrGa1ahKDI/AAAAAAAAFBA/gsvhMkLCCoo0dHpE8Z67Y_1owtO8zKYXACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BComedy%2Bof%2BErrors.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bMedPo7sEN0/YYrGa1ahKDI/AAAAAAAAFBA/gsvhMkLCCoo0dHpE8Z67Y_1owtO8zKYXACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BComedy%2Bof%2BErrors.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Ithaka</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">by CP Cavafy</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>As you set out for Ithaka</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>hope the voyage is a long one,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>full of adventure, full of discovery.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Laistrygonians, Cyclops,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>you’ll never find things like that on your way</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>as long as a rare excitement</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>stirs your spirit and your body.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Laistrygonians, Cyclops,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>unless you bring them along inside your soul,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>unless your soul sets them up in front of you.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Hope the voyage is a long one.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>May there be many a summer morning when,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>with what pleasure, what joy,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>you enter harbours seen for the first time;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>may you stop at Phoenician trading stations</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>to buy fine things,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>sensual perfume of every kind—</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>as many sensual perfumes as you can;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>and may you visit many Egyptian cities</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>to learn and go on learning from their scholars.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Keep Ithaka always in your mind.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Arriving there is what you are destined for.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>But do not hurry the journey at all.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Better if it lasts for years,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>so you are old by the time you reach the island,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>wealthy with all you have gained on the way,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Without her you would not have set out.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>She has nothing left to give you now.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Ps-iGWui4E/YYrGisbSZ3I/AAAAAAAAFBE/SReK7sxApbwlpf2QRNV4YIGBkh4wOXnggCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/4.%2BIthaka.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9Ps-iGWui4E/YYrGisbSZ3I/AAAAAAAAFBE/SReK7sxApbwlpf2QRNV4YIGBkh4wOXnggCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/4.%2BIthaka.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-49903760547089911632021-10-30T14:46:00.001+01:002021-11-06T15:23:06.221+00:00Wells-next-the-Sea<div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1mCZ1k18ywM/YYaXnLmmiYI/AAAAAAAAE_Y/PTBIGuMb-Qwqk62lTj74jsn2R0DSJQc2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B1.%2BHeading.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1mCZ1k18ywM/YYaXnLmmiYI/AAAAAAAAE_Y/PTBIGuMb-Qwqk62lTj74jsn2R0DSJQc2wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B1.%2BHeading.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wells-next-the-Sea, a dramatic setting for a long delayed celebration</td></tr></tbody></table>Journey of a Covid Survivor</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">And so, we went East on the M62 and South on the A1(M) and then East and Easter and Further East along tunnel-like Autumnal lanes, going nowhere but to the edge of the island nation and the impossibly bronze and blue horizons of the north Norfolk coast. It was what I call <b><i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana;">“getting away from it all” </span></i></b>with precious friends.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CIa4qOEAOuo/YYaX34x0BII/AAAAAAAAE_g/8W9s2H5krQs7IiG-nV66jxUvdHUhgzDtQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B2.%2BSunday.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CIa4qOEAOuo/YYaX34x0BII/AAAAAAAAE_g/8W9s2H5krQs7IiG-nV66jxUvdHUhgzDtQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B2.%2BSunday.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, Michael, Sally, Janet</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><b>Wells-next-the-Sea</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">To Quay View Cottage, a three-storey, perfectly situated, beautifully clean, well-equipped holiday let which had everything we needed to hunker down at Halloween, catch up and put the world to rights. As W H Hudson (author, naturalist and ornithologist) described it:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><blockquote>There are few places in England where you can get so much wildness and desolation of sea and sandhills, woods, green marsh and grey saltings as at Wells in Norfolk.</blockquote></span></b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iuN11rEI08U/YYaY-Ewp38I/AAAAAAAAE_o/LX1QMfa_0WgDSYk5qMY_rZj6Wk6mLOHrwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B3.%2BWindow%2BView.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iuN11rEI08U/YYaY-Ewp38I/AAAAAAAAE_o/LX1QMfa_0WgDSYk5qMY_rZj6Wk6mLOHrwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B3.%2BWindow%2BView.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from our bedroom at Quay View Cottage</td></tr></tbody></table>Celebrations Assemble</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Reasons to gather:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: large;">two postponed 60th birthday weekends</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">an imminent 65th birthday</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">the awarding of an OBE</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">the recent Empty Nesting and the happiness/success of All Our Daughters</span></li><li><span style="font-size: large;">the recovery of Yours Truly from Ghastly Nasty Covid</span></li></ul></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PL3kcx7-qyg/YYaZV3CbpNI/AAAAAAAAE_w/tyeHtsMn_l8W3dtD_f-Fp9NfT-L9hUTCACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B4.%2BWells.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PL3kcx7-qyg/YYaZV3CbpNI/AAAAAAAAE_w/tyeHtsMn_l8W3dtD_f-Fp9NfT-L9hUTCACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B4.%2BWells.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wells-next-the-Sea with, top left, the "old" lifeboat station</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><b>Gulls and Geese</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">The purple evening light (a bit like the “blue hour” of twilight in Scandinavia) bathed the tail end of half term holidaymakers, the younglings squealing as the seagulls and geese swooped and squabbled for territory on the harbour walls and local soccer field.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bSD8LQJDC3Q/YYaZsV1du3I/AAAAAAAAE_4/sptSPeG_y9cY8UCjSuKGfLOvBzTmMbLBACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B5.%2BSunset.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bSD8LQJDC3Q/YYaZsV1du3I/AAAAAAAAE_4/sptSPeG_y9cY8UCjSuKGfLOvBzTmMbLBACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B5.%2BSunset.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><b>Sea Wall Defences</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">In such a flat, expansive landscape, a little elevation goes a long way. It was therefore memorable to walk the length of the Flood Defence Wall under dramatic skies.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NUfBcP7JJ0U/YYaZ226od6I/AAAAAAAAE_8/9QRwDU2aU3wFahm9YYHR2NA4G1UjtLTegCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B6.%2BSea%2BDefence%2BWall.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NUfBcP7JJ0U/YYaZ226od6I/AAAAAAAAE_8/9QRwDU2aU3wFahm9YYHR2NA4G1UjtLTegCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B6.%2BSea%2BDefence%2BWall.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><b>Dangerous maze-like coast</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">The marshes, scrubland, sea, sandbanks and horizons intermingled in ever-changing arrangements, connecting and disconnecting in disorientating maze-like channels. And over us all, the massive skies, moody, broody, threatening, and glorious.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VQv1FRzr5Hk/YYaZ_nJkzMI/AAAAAAAAFAE/ioTX7WWLk6AXwHLEB8eVkXN8ot19ogrbgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B7%2BMarshes.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VQv1FRzr5Hk/YYaZ_nJkzMI/AAAAAAAAFAE/ioTX7WWLk6AXwHLEB8eVkXN8ot19ogrbgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B7%2BMarshes.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, I Know I used the bottom left snap already, but it just sums up my memory of the weekend!</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><b>Holkham Bay</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Our destination at the end of the Flood Defence Wall was the two-mile stretch of Holkham Beach, bleeding into dunes which sheltered us from the wind for our picnic.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tyZCCi2NpWg/YYaacStQp6I/AAAAAAAAFAM/zrNaJOk4mk4KH24VwQ6d58GQNlEH253QQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B8%2BHolkham%2BBeach.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tyZCCi2NpWg/YYaacStQp6I/AAAAAAAAFAM/zrNaJOk4mk4KH24VwQ6d58GQNlEH253QQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B8%2BHolkham%2BBeach.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's that same pic again, along with Holkham beach, a basking seal and colourful beach huts</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><b>Offshore wind farms</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Behind us was the desolation of nature and in front of us, bending the mind, were limitless skies merging into the horizon-stretching sea. Could that be a mirage or an offshore wind farm?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aQMKw749lCM/YYaavX_74pI/AAAAAAAAFAU/1twcYDBpTH0qjT_AU5Oi2tWNNecTHtUnwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B9.%2BSky.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aQMKw749lCM/YYaavX_74pI/AAAAAAAAFAU/1twcYDBpTH0qjT_AU5Oi2tWNNecTHtUnwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B9.%2BSky.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><b>Wells Crab House</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">We self-catered apart from one evening spent in the intimate and informal <b><a href="https://wellscrabhouse.co.uk/" target="_blank">Wells Crab House</a></b> where you can identify the name of the fisherman who caught the food on your plate. As the website (justifiably) boasts <i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana;">“Nothing better than getting our deliveries so fresh with wellies still dripping with the sea.”</span></i> So, there was Curry Battered Prawns, Mackerel Terrine, Haddock Pot and Salmon Noodles followed by Scallop Crumble, Crab Platter, Lobster and Fresh Cod.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eNNoh9QJ6Tw/YYabWKKUwgI/AAAAAAAAFAc/5U_a7zoWqf88yLMvhRlHrOCEqXPVjlBogCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B10.%2BWells%2BCrab%2BHouse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eNNoh9QJ6Tw/YYabWKKUwgI/AAAAAAAAFAc/5U_a7zoWqf88yLMvhRlHrOCEqXPVjlBogCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B10.%2BWells%2BCrab%2BHouse.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;"><b>Sandbanks and quicksands</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Travel writer, Peter Sager, wrote of north Norfolk:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana;">What a coast this is, with its salt marshes and lavender, its channels, dunes, bays and crumbling Ice Age cliffs, lonelier and wilder than its Suffolk neighbour, Arctic, melancholic, beautiful, treacherous, with sandbanks and quicksands, storms and floods, and never-ending erosion.</span></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sadly the East Coast is the likeliest bit of England to be lost to the sea if the impending climate catastrophe is not averted. Now I have spent time on this watery land, clinging to the island flats, I feel that losing north Norfolk (and, for that matter, parts of Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire and north Wales) to the sea would be a tragedy.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zBpEdWrioFc/YYabrwSrAcI/AAAAAAAAFAk/VA5SxdTnFJEqOuF7eK8odrqRAorzMXVKACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B11.%2BFinale.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zBpEdWrioFc/YYabrwSrAcI/AAAAAAAAFAk/VA5SxdTnFJEqOuF7eK8odrqRAorzMXVKACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B11.%2BFinale.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1UB0hhYdL5c/YYadmZIn98I/AAAAAAAAFAs/VPd1SlvlhaQN2yWq9tCuBANTgZ6ZLDxTgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B12.%2BEncore.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1UB0hhYdL5c/YYadmZIn98I/AAAAAAAAFAs/VPd1SlvlhaQN2yWq9tCuBANTgZ6ZLDxTgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B12.%2BEncore.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-17437822899113412312021-10-23T15:48:00.101+01:002021-10-25T16:14:54.693+01:00Worse b4 Better<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FMolkR3PCCk/YXbH5r63OGI/AAAAAAAAE9s/G91f8BkolaIUimaFEMZMsf41Xh63K8xFwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BBirthday%2BRedux.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FMolkR3PCCk/YXbH5r63OGI/AAAAAAAAE9s/G91f8BkolaIUimaFEMZMsf41Xh63K8xFwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BBirthday%2BRedux.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">61st Birthday One Week Later Than Planned.....</td></tr></tbody></table><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;">Birthday Redux</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">And so, dear reader, my previous blog explained that I contracted </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2)</span></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">aka Covid-19</span></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">and that I hijacked a Craig David song to explain the Week 1 journey which largely involved coughing and a sore throat. Well, Week 2 has not been the same and involved <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">silent hypoxia</span></b> (ie low oxygen levels without realising) and a feverish temperature. Floppy boneless limbs applied to both weeks. Covid is a peculiar </span><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">disease:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some, like me, have an “OK” first week, a shocking second week and then recover</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">Some people are asymptomatic and hardly know they’ve had it</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">Some people deteriorate rapidly and die</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">Some people become very ill for a long time</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Some people, like me, develop <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">silent hypoxia</span></b> from which you can recover (as I did) but which can alternatively lead to a sudden plummeting of health, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">becoming desperately breathless and</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> hospitalisation </span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">And there are many variations and gradations between.</span></li></ul></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m in the recovery stage now, building up stamina, breathing consciously and deeply, increasing the walking distance each day, resting between exertions….</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ggH0ApmbG2s/YXbIokyoVdI/AAAAAAAAE90/X7BRUy6W1h0os3R_49zqD5yS6ItFNk5lQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BMirage.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ggH0ApmbG2s/YXbIokyoVdI/AAAAAAAAE90/X7BRUy6W1h0os3R_49zqD5yS6ItFNk5lQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BMirage.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anthony Quinn, Peter O'Toole, Omar Sharif</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;">It is written…. Nothing is written….</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A highlight of sofa-flopping has been indulging in long movies – like the widescreen version of </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Lawrence of Arabia</span></i></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> (1962), a still astonishing feat of cinematography, editing and design with pitch-perfect performances, overwhelming music, and iconographic moments like the above entrance of Omar Sharif in the far distance, like a shimmering mirage; and the jump cut below between a burning match and the rising sun. Lawrence’s epic journey(s) through the burning deserts were a good match for how I felt dredging through my body’s responses to Covid-19. When William Potter burns himself extinguishing a match between his thumb and forefinger, he challenges Lawrence to explain </span><b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: verdana;">“What’s the trick, then?”</span></i></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> Lawrence answers: </span><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: verdana;"><i><b>“The trick….is not minding that it hurts.”</b></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SyRoJpp2GXk/YXbJV02YcmI/AAAAAAAAE98/jnuciYMmHVcWGfod5ddBx2CXoSoC7BBzQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BLawrence%2BJump%2BCut.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SyRoJpp2GXk/YXbJV02YcmI/AAAAAAAAE98/jnuciYMmHVcWGfod5ddBx2CXoSoC7BBzQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BLawrence%2BJump%2BCut.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;">Silenzio, Bruno</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">An altogether jolliier experience was the film that capped my delayed birthday – the Disney-Pixar film <b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Luca</span></i></b>, ravishingly animated and charmingly told. The themes were clear as an Italian blue sky: helicopter-parenting, family – both blood and constructed, unconventional-friendships, deceit, bullying, outsiders, prejudice, <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">escape/freedom….</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QgaXFLuMDLU/YXbJyiYUgCI/AAAAAAAAE-E/PJDDsyi4pmUoQJ3H_5tx3VCbURyYiDtfwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/4%2BLuca.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QgaXFLuMDLU/YXbJyiYUgCI/AAAAAAAAE-E/PJDDsyi4pmUoQJ3H_5tx3VCbURyYiDtfwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/4%2BLuca.png" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-73438359593028543302021-10-16T08:59:00.005+01:002021-10-17T09:25:54.353+01:00Self-Isolation Birthday<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-large;"><b><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pj9TkmlOnRs/YWvcJ6ToRiI/AAAAAAAAE9I/wsvG8_29d_krDCxO-A6-FX4JlsN3GX_6wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BNew%2BChapter.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pj9TkmlOnRs/YWvcJ6ToRiI/AAAAAAAAE9I/wsvG8_29d_krDCxO-A6-FX4JlsN3GX_6wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BNew%2BChapter.png" width="640" /></a></div>Of Mice and Men</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Wise poet <b><a href="http://www.robertburnsfederation.com/poems/translations/554.htm" target="_blank">Robbie Burns observed in 1785</a></b> that it is a shame when little mice construct their shelters, carefully, lovingly – but unwittingly – <b><span style="color: #800180;">in the path of the plough</span></b>. And so I, dear reader, had planned for my 61st birthday to be at <b><a href="https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/sissinghurst-castle-garden" target="_blank">Castle Garden in Sissinghurst</a></b> staying in the Priest’s House with the family. <i><span style="color: #800180;">(If I’m still blogging and you’re still reading in the Spring of 2023, pop back to hear all about it.)</span></i> Any road up, last year, I was condemned by government regulations to spend <b><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2020/10/diamond-birthday.html" target="_blank">my 60th birthday outside</a></b> and this year I have mostly been having <b><span style="color: #800180;">Covid….</span></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pih88MLyRWk/YWvcV2ZVaYI/AAAAAAAAE9M/-YEVSusldRs-olWGaJOo88q31kVRuZU_gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BLateral%2BFlows.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pih88MLyRWk/YWvcV2ZVaYI/AAAAAAAAE9M/-YEVSusldRs-olWGaJOo88q31kVRuZU_gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BLateral%2BFlows.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Faint line (top left) day one and not so faint (top right) day two</td></tr></tbody></table></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-large;"><b>With fevered apologies to Craig David</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>Was it for real? Damn sure</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>What was the deal? Let me update</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>Sunday a tickle or two</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>Then got a lottta hotter on Monday</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>A faint line – so fine – real deal so hit me with a PCR</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>Results by Tuesday – possessed by heat and coughs</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>Smooth talker Covid they told me</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>They’d love to unfold me all night long</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>Cheesegrater throat and hacking hawking</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>From back to front I flipped it back</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>And breathed it big</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b>Wednesday was a hell but</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Thursday felt more me<br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Friday was my birthday and love came down the line<br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">And stood at the end of my garden table<br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">We chilled on Saturday and hope to do the same through Sunday</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Monday Tuesday Wednesday</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;">Until isolation ends on Thursday....</span></b><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t5FVmwZzm5w/YWvcpabMj_I/AAAAAAAAE9Y/tWaD8nJ2jUcMZdhO_eOAVvIL_zBzwGD7ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.Dinner.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t5FVmwZzm5w/YWvcpabMj_I/AAAAAAAAE9Y/tWaD8nJ2jUcMZdhO_eOAVvIL_zBzwGD7ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.Dinner.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last supper with taste and smell for a while....</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Unlucky for some</span></b><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Having been the most cautious person I know since March 2020, I feel as if the Tories’ confusing and contradictory strategy was designed – specifically and personally – to smite me just when I was about to relax. I’m </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #800180;">double vaccinated</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> (thanks, NHS) so have been fortunate and I hope I’ll have some natural immunity for a time at least. And I have a loving support system so had </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #800180;">a smashing birthday</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> anyway. </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #800180;">Smell and taste</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> seem to have departed (hopefully for a short time) but thankfully not before I enjoyed delicious stuff on the day of my nativity. I was also allowed to control the remote so resorted to </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2015/02/one-brief-shining-moment.html" target="_blank">an old comfort watch with the (to me) magnetic Vanessa Redgrave</a></b><span style="font-family: arial;">. The </span><b><i><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;">best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry</span></i></b><span style="font-family: arial;">, but as Robbie Burns points out, mice have it easier than men because they don’t know their ultimate destination…. <b><span style="color: #800180;">Here’s to a few more birthdays, wee, timorous beastie!</span></b></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L9D1JiGDFiU/YWvc3C-xHkI/AAAAAAAAE9c/qvLzt3X3I8Yf_NquogfEUTviirBtjMscQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/4.%2BCamelot.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L9D1JiGDFiU/YWvc3C-xHkI/AAAAAAAAE9c/qvLzt3X3I8Yf_NquogfEUTviirBtjMscQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/4.%2BCamelot.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-42645763434911158942021-08-21T10:08:00.001+01:002021-08-21T10:08:20.517+01:00I have spoken<div style="text-align: left;"><b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4r5oKL_lWrA/YSDBcR7Ei-I/AAAAAAAAE6w/cO-4-Vm7LwgPsiXa06BLUPYVwbua8ns6ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2BDarth%2BTony.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4r5oKL_lWrA/YSDBcR7Ei-I/AAAAAAAAE6w/cO-4-Vm7LwgPsiXa06BLUPYVwbua8ns6ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2BDarth%2BTony.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Experimenting with a Father Christmas look, gorgeous flowers, yummy fajitas</span></td></tr></tbody></table>“I don’t know if you heard but the Empire is gone.”</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thus says Mando….</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">“When one chooses to walk the Way of the Mandalore, you are both hunter and prey….”</span></i></b> <b><span style="color: #800180;">(Hunter, prey; Yin, yang; Chicken, egg; Jedi, Sith; Innocence, experience.)</span></b> This week I have mostly been watching <b><i><span style="color: #800180;">The Mandalorian</span></i></b> with asides for <b><i><span style="color: #800180;">Pan’s Labyrinth</span></i></b> (whilst ironing) and <b><i><span style="color: #800180;">Independence Day</span></i></b> (with the <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2021/01/miss-jean-louise-stand-up.html" target="_blank">Harry Potter Film Club</a>.) In other words, I have spent very little time on Planet Earth as it is, and when not escaping to fantastic Other Worlds (which, let’s face it, are all about Planet Earth’s deepest darkest What Ifs) I have been writing about the history of My Own Invented Other World, <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2018/08/rhenium-tales.html" target="_blank">Rhenium</a>. Creative writing and fictional fantasies can be powerful distractions but inevitably crash into reality when the parallels with Here and Now lurch into view:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180; font-size: medium;"><b><blockquote>family, fascism, identity, gender, loyalty, love, fear, courage, oppression, freedom, hatred, migration, the “outsider,” prejudice….</blockquote></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Are these the themes for <b><i><span style="color: #800180;">Pan’s Labyrinth</span></i></b> or <b><i><span style="color: #800180;">The Mandalorian</span></i></b> or <b><i><span style="color: #800180;">Independence Day</span></i></b> or <b><i><span style="color: #800180;">Rhenium Tales</span></i></b>….? Or do they exist in them all? Old history, repeated history; old tales, freshly-minted tales; Yin, yang; the same thing can be both comforting and depressing. As William Blake would have it, <b><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">the struggle between contrary forces is necessary to human existence.</span></i></b> The prose and the passion. Only connect. <b><i><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;">"I have spoken."</span></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_v9Ak02u4J8/YSDBywgHOaI/AAAAAAAAE64/Dhmq0L1n8ZkGl-yufk5XP7K3A4VJDqVjwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2BPan%2BMando%2BID4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_v9Ak02u4J8/YSDBywgHOaI/AAAAAAAAE64/Dhmq0L1n8ZkGl-yufk5XP7K3A4VJDqVjwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2BPan%2BMando%2BID4.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Pan's Labyrinth, The Mandalorian, Independence Day </i> - Fantasy or (Subconscious) Reality?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #800180; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></i></b></span></div><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-34664174680760492272021-07-10T11:15:00.002+01:002021-07-18T09:12:12.039+01:00Coral<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vt0yU9Xhh4Y/YPLFTLchc7I/AAAAAAAAE4o/HRb7HrcpwZgUVCVIl4sULiKyCBVHeoPngCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B1.%2BGarden%2BCottage.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vt0yU9Xhh4Y/YPLFTLchc7I/AAAAAAAAE4o/HRb7HrcpwZgUVCVIl4sULiKyCBVHeoPngCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B1.%2BGarden%2BCottage.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garden Cottage at Nun Monkton</td></tr></tbody></table>Garden Cottage</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">For our (Coral) wedding anniversary we returned to a tiny <b><a href="https://www.airbnb.co.uk/" target="_blank">AirBnB</a></b> where we stayed in 2019 (when visiting the <b><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2019/06/yorkshire-heart-vineyard-in-nun-monkton.html" target="_blank">Yorkshire Heart Vineyard</a></b>). The oasis “Garden Cottage” is not far from York along a road going only to a remote village where cows graze freely on the village green, a green skewered by the fattest, tallest maypole I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a few, madam. Nun Monkton is the name of the village. The garden hummed with insects and wrapped us in its verdant peace. The dawn chorus was full of beauty.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1I1m_ixRnDk/YPLFflUmCII/AAAAAAAAE4s/XRcmlz2zvpAEvEwCFz7iECkcD53aeV9oACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B2.%2BAlice%2BHawthorn.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1I1m_ixRnDk/YPLFflUmCII/AAAAAAAAE4s/XRcmlz2zvpAEvEwCFz7iECkcD53aeV9oACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B2.%2BAlice%2BHawthorn.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alice Hawthorne Inn</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Alice Hawthorne</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Nun Monkton is also home to the <b><a href="https://www.thealicehawthorn.com/" target="_blank">Alice Hawthorne Inn </a></b>where we ate two nights in a row, the first with long-while friends, <b><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2018/02/pushing-boat-out.html" target="_blank">Sue and Brian</a></b>. Stoked by delicious food <i>(Crab Mayo, Roast Beetroot, Popcorn Prawns, Yorkshire Dales Lamb, Waterford Farm Steak, Sticky Toffee Pudding, Crème Catalan, Mini Sundae)</i>, the venue felt safe and welcoming.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RUk07vWFQlg/YPLFrWZrSHI/AAAAAAAAE40/kO_9bVOo0kgLR9j5a3XFtmMvDQYS3AhXACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B4.%2BBeningbrough%2BHall.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RUk07vWFQlg/YPLFrWZrSHI/AAAAAAAAE40/kO_9bVOo0kgLR9j5a3XFtmMvDQYS3AhXACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B4.%2BBeningbrough%2BHall.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beningbrough Hall Estate</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>In The Moment</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Our anniversary hike was around the nearby <b><a href="https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/beningbrough-hall-gallery-and-gardens" target="_blank">Beningbrough Hall Estate</a></b>, alongside the River Ouse for much of the time, picking over gnarly roots and picnicking on tree stumps. Cooling forest sections on the walk provided welcome shelter. The house had an indoor exhibition (<b><i><span style="color: #ff00fe;">In The Moment: the art of wellbeing</span></i></b>) aimed at reminding viewers to <b><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2020/05/lockdown-spring.html" target="_blank">stand and stare</a></b>, to pause, to slow down, to reflect, to be in the moment. Some of the pieces achieved that (for me) more than others but, on a hot day, it certainly slowed down the old heart rate.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g936oAj6iK0/YPLF2UCkscI/AAAAAAAAE48/RqV9as8FUnARP_ux6RYw-jC-YcPeeKDfQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B4.%2BNature%2Band%2BLa%2BRue.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-g936oAj6iK0/YPLF2UCkscI/AAAAAAAAE48/RqV9as8FUnARP_ux6RYw-jC-YcPeeKDfQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B4.%2BNature%2Band%2BLa%2BRue.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Food and Nature</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Amidst medical/political uncertainty and the competing noises of the media, some constants <b><span style="color: #ff00fe;">Remain True</span></b>. The sights, sounds, smells and colours of nature continue to enchant. And eating, drinking and being merry all continue to drown out the stresses of the age. The messages about the “roadmap” towards “Freedom Day” <b><span style="color: #ff00fe;">Remain Confusing</span></b>: <i><span style="color: #274e13;">Be Free</span><span style="color: red;">/Be Cautious,</span> </i><span style="color: #274e13;">Be Released</span><span style="color: #660000;">/Continue Shielding,</span> <i><span style="color: red;">Do/</span><span style="color: #274e13;">Don’t</span><span style="color: red;">/</span><span style="color: #660000;">Maybe</span><span style="color: red;"> Wear Masks,</span></i> <span style="color: red;">Do</span><span style="color: #660000;">/</span><span style="color: #274e13;">Don’t</span><span style="color: #660000;">/Maybe Socially Distance,</span><i> <span style="color: red;">Go on holiday to a Red/</span><span style="color: #990000;">Amber/AmberPlus</span><span style="color: red;">/</span><span style="color: #38761d;">Green/GreenPlus</span><span style="color: red;"> Country/Staycation in the UK but </span><span style="color: #660000;">Don’t Go to A Crowded Place</span><span style="color: red;"> (</span><span style="color: #660000;">unless it’s a nightclub</span><span style="color: red;">)</span>, </i><span style="color: #274e13;">Go Anywhere</span><span style="color: #660000;">/Go Certain Places Sometimes/</span><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">But </span></b><b><span style="color: red;">Don’t Go There</span></b> </span><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">(small print = we might change the rules overnight and we’ll bury our heads in the sands about the understaffed, underpaid, overwhelmed NHS until we “beg” private companies to swoop in with greedy shareholders….)</span></i><span style="font-size: large;"> But <b><span style="color: #660000;">Nature</span></b> and <b><span style="color: #660000;">Food</span></b> <b><span style="color: #ff00fe;">Remain True</span></b>. And so do <b><span style="color: #660000;">New Arrivals</span></b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JvKjR78CjMM/YPLF_SaSMfI/AAAAAAAAE5E/ZyO3R8nmUOwPWnrGlkSiGKjOHGZse-5hACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B5.%2BErnie%2B%2526%2BRoses.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JvKjR78CjMM/YPLF_SaSMfI/AAAAAAAAE5E/ZyO3R8nmUOwPWnrGlkSiGKjOHGZse-5hACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B5.%2BErnie%2B%2526%2BRoses.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>New Kid(s) On The Block</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Welcome <b><span style="color: #660000;">Earnest</span></b>, my latest great nephew. Welcome <b><span style="color: #660000;">Gertrude Jekyll</span></b>, our climbing rose. Welcome <b><span style="color: #660000;">Gabriel Oak</span></b>, our potted rose. New things happen. Children grow. Roses bloom. Another day begins.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bJd2ALJdkeo/YPLGHyHAcHI/AAAAAAAAE5M/rK1dLKE_a94hH1eyogTe7knPYcLxU-rXwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B6.%2BMaypole.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bJd2ALJdkeo/YPLGHyHAcHI/AAAAAAAAE5M/rK1dLKE_a94hH1eyogTe7knPYcLxU-rXwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B6.%2BMaypole.png" width="640" /></a></div></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-25200323134913399812021-07-03T14:29:00.003+01:002021-07-05T09:09:39.808+01:00Head above the parapet again<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OIpRTHBJ328/YOBjUE_rV7I/AAAAAAAAE4M/Lz1zJOg4ivkMbUOMpZkJLWb_SZX0mcG2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BAmazing%2BMr%2BX.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OIpRTHBJ328/YOBjUE_rV7I/AAAAAAAAE4M/Lz1zJOg4ivkMbUOMpZkJLWb_SZX0mcG2wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BAmazing%2BMr%2BX.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The scariest moment is always just before you start*</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>*Stephen King</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So, I’ve been summoned back into the world of <b><span style="color: #ff00fe;">Rhenium</span></b> where survivors of the human race attempt to create a better society on a new planet in a galaxy far, far away…. (if you want to see where I was back in August 2018 before I contacted agents and got a wide range of responses - some very pertinent and some just rude, <b><i><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2018/08/rhenium-tales.html" target="_blank">click here</a></i></b>.) Covid-19 lockdowns didn’t boil creative juices inside me, just survivor instincts, so I put my <b><i><span style="color: #ff00fe;">magnum opus</span></i></b> aside for the best part of three years in favour of reading, walking, feasting, watching TV and doing jigsaws.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9rweVoBTgPk/YOBknO9NfzI/AAAAAAAAE4U/pE9f3gJHlBIjVuOEbOdj4ejF-bGmUbVBACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BSummer.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9rweVoBTgPk/YOBknO9NfzI/AAAAAAAAE4U/pE9f3gJHlBIjVuOEbOdj4ejF-bGmUbVBACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BSummer.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bark, roses, flowers, outdoor eating.... summer 2021</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Write. Write more. Edit. Edit more.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A combination of factors has brought <b><i><span style="color: #ff00fe;">Raydan Wakes</span></i></b> back under the microscope and it is now subject to the laser-bright-brutal scrutiny of my editorial pen.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Go with me to my tent; where you shall see….</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>How calm and gentle I proceeded still</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>In all my writings.</b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Suffice to say, the new version seems (to me) radically different from the first (two, five, thirteen?) version(s). Some sections I cannot even remember writing…. Creative writing is a very peculiar hobby! But I’m back in the saddle again, clopping along the lonesome trail…. Giddy up, cowboy! (with thanks to the critters on the pioneer trail who cheer me on….)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CWsMOQIXwM0/YOBlPN1eUmI/AAAAAAAAE4c/hymOxHtDM64PiN8Zc_-WSxcoOclMBzb0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BRaydan%2B%2526%2BVera.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CWsMOQIXwM0/YOBlPN1eUmI/AAAAAAAAE4c/hymOxHtDM64PiN8Zc_-WSxcoOclMBzb0wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BRaydan%2B%2526%2BVera.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The colours of Rhenium society and <a href="https://www.nicksheltonartist.com/" target="_blank">Nick Shelton's</a> artist's impression of two key characters</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-18687603449387430902021-05-08T10:44:00.004+01:002021-05-08T10:44:35.312+01:00Return to Maggie's Bar<div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sFC6npbr5Js/YJZcq6kecZI/AAAAAAAAE0U/BscPeWLChxM6dOqBZl3tFHMMjashpO5uwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BReturn%2Bto%2BMaggie%2527s%2BBar.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sFC6npbr5Js/YJZcq6kecZI/AAAAAAAAE0U/BscPeWLChxM6dOqBZl3tFHMMjashpO5uwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BReturn%2Bto%2BMaggie%2527s%2BBar.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emily, Amy, Benji, Sally, Maggie, a May evening, a starry starry night</td></tr></tbody></table>Inclusively Injected with love</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Last Summer, we were invited to <b><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2020/06/maggies-bar.html" target="_blank">Maggie’s Bar (click here for reminder)</a></b>. Yesterday evening we returned to enjoy the additional <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">gazebo</span></b> which warded off the meterological uncertainties of Spring 2021. Benji sat on Sally’s knee (as in collage above.) <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Nibbles</span></b> were nibbled. <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Discussions</span></b> roamed around the past and our present lives, hopes, dreams and lockdown experiences, the prophetic Corona cushion, <b><a href="https://uk.whogivesacrap.org/" target="_blank">WhoGivesACrapRecycledToiletRoll,</a></b> TV, cinema, theatre, the future…. On our return to the bar, we could toast the gospel that the entire Shipley branch of the <b><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2021/01/miss-jean-louise-stand-up.html" target="_blank">Harry Potter Film Club</a></b> have now been Covid-Vaccinated, Double-Jabbed, Inclusively-Injected…. There was also a <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Birthday Bonus</span></b> present for Sally. Not only does Maggie run a very popular bar, but her eyes, hands and talents can craft lovingly produced <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Cross Stitch</span></b> works of art. As Shakespeare truly muses:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I count myself in nothing else so happy</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">As in a soul remembering my good friends</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wMnKjsboVco/YJZcziLk96I/AAAAAAAAE0Y/GWbBcrhWYKoMn_uuhMyJF4hNIH9mU61WACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BStarry%2BStarry%2BNight.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wMnKjsboVco/YJZcziLk96I/AAAAAAAAE0Y/GWbBcrhWYKoMn_uuhMyJF4hNIH9mU61WACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BStarry%2BStarry%2BNight.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Cross Stitched gift, more signs of Spring, ecological toilet rolls....</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-39125298284508337332021-04-17T07:11:00.106+01:002021-07-19T09:00:03.169+01:00Learning to dance in the rain<div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;">GQ’s Men of the Year</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lists of “Top Ten” or “Best Of” regularly appear in many places in the media to spark debate and highlight trends. I’d have to endorse <b><span style="color: #b45f06;">Mr William Shakespeare</span></b> as a Man of the Year in every one of my lists, as he was <b><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: verdana;"><i>“not of an age, but for all time”</i></span></b> </span>(© Ben Jonson)<span style="font-size: medium;"> and he inhabits my soul every day. But I’m also happy to concur with some of GQ’s Men of the Year:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #b45f06;">Russell T Davies</span></b> (thanks for your TV series <b><i>It’s A Sin</i></b> and past creativity)</span></li><li><b style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Captain Tom Moore</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"> (thanks for your past service and current inspiration)</span></li><li><b style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Marcus Rashford</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"> (thanks for your tenacity and courage)</span></li><li><b style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Josh O’Connor</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"> and </span><b style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Riz Ahmed </span></b><span style="font-size: large;">(thanks for all your performances, in particular recently in <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2016/05/two-households-both-alike-in-dignity.html" target="_blank"><b><i>Romeo and Juliet</i></b> </a>and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sound_of_Metal" target="_blank"><b><i>Sound of Metal</i></b>,</a> but formerly in <b><i><a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2017/09/gods-own-country.html" target="_blank">God's Own Country</a></i></b> and <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2014/12/odeon-screen-unseen.html" target="_blank"><b><i>Nightcrawler</i></b>)</a></span></li><li>And <b style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Prince Phillip</span></b><span style="font-size: large;">, HM Queen Elizabeth II’s </span><b style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: verdana;">“constant strength and guide”</span></i></b><span style="font-size: large;"> and </span><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b><i>“strength and stay.”</i></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></li></ul></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BfkWNgFRbhw/YPUicuBCCAI/AAAAAAAAE5o/nGykNt7nYagfj9Vvr2yxTM_t6i_AujzPgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B1.%2BMen%2Bof%2Bthe%2BYear.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BfkWNgFRbhw/YPUicuBCCAI/AAAAAAAAE5o/nGykNt7nYagfj9Vvr2yxTM_t6i_AujzPgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B1.%2BMen%2Bof%2Bthe%2BYear.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;">Falling within a bell curve</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Prince Phillip’s recent death (9th April) produced much broadcast material and many column inches about whether he was the last of a particular kind of man. Such dogmatic reasoning always falls flat in my head, maybe because I’m a Libran and can usually see an alternative argument for everything. Prince Phillip was not unique despite his context and background; stastical probability (given the planet’s billions of people) suggests there will be other Prince Phillip types in decades to come. The one we’ve recently lost was remarkable, I agree, and I liked his daughter, Princess Anne’s, quotation about him – <b><i><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: verdana;">“a life well lived and service freely given.”</span></i></b> Shakespeare has Hamlet say, of his late father, <b><i><span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: verdana;">“I shall not look upon his like again”</span></i></b> but he idolises the memory of the late king and is in a profound state of grief. More empirically truthful, I think, is Tim Minchin’s lyric in <b><i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LAzodf69rfk" target="_blank">If I didn’t have you (somebody else would do)</a></i></b>:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>I mean, I think you’re special</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>But you fall within a bell curve</b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SXPvLgawXTQ/YPUu5TSgmZI/AAAAAAAAE54/je7o7GjhTQwDTGjNQ02B0yR1E5J6TPLPgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B2.%2BRobin%2BHood%2527s%2BCave.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SXPvLgawXTQ/YPUu5TSgmZI/AAAAAAAAE54/je7o7GjhTQwDTGjNQ02B0yR1E5J6TPLPgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B2.%2BRobin%2BHood%2527s%2BCave.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;">Outlaw’s Cave</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Robin Hood, now there’s a man! Steals from the rich and distributes to the poor…. possibly? Any road up, on the day Prince Phillip died, we met <b><span style="color: #b45f06;">Michael and Janet</span></b> to complete an undulating walk in the secluded woodland of Conjure Alders in the twin valley of the Rivers Maun and Meden, at the edge of Sherwood Forest. We walked across fields with huge horizons, through woods filled with birch and alder trees, picked over tangled roots by the river and marvelled at the sandstone cliff outcrop concealing <b><span style="color: #b45f06;">Robin Hood’s Cave</span></b>. No sign of Maid Marian or the merry men (or a reduction of income inequality) in early April 2021…. Where’s Robin Hood when you need him the most?</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UU3cb5hRCyg/YPUvNi8FufI/AAAAAAAAE6A/PuX0a-Et2IshyG3uQBpiNgLscAZYQhM9ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B3.%2BSue%2BBrian%2BNick%2BGraeme.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UU3cb5hRCyg/YPUvNi8FufI/AAAAAAAAE6A/PuX0a-Et2IshyG3uQBpiNgLscAZYQhM9ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B3.%2BSue%2BBrian%2BNick%2BGraeme.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;">Waiting for the storm to pass</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Spring continues to springeth and daffodils to bloometh. No-one knows exactly how Covid-19’s infection rate will spread, nor how severely, so time and tide wait for no man…. so now seems a good time to hook up (safely) with other Men (and Women) of the Year…. Thank you, Brian and Sue, for the fish finger butties and chips under your verandah in Tollerton and the inspirational message:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>It’s about learning to dance in the rain</b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Once the pandemic is endemic and (hopefully) as ubiquitous and controlled as ‘flu, I imagine many people will continue to value nature and lobby decision-makers to tackle the global climate crisis and the over-exploitation of precious resources. Thank you, Nick and Graeme, for giving us a glimpse into the future with our proxy experiences of an electric car.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JLI4DTOHrl0/YPUv5Fy94bI/AAAAAAAAE6I/CiYNbiRUa1sSgnrE8x-tyt8YMxG1sH-ZgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B4.%2BBirthday%2B%2526%2BHome%2BItalian.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JLI4DTOHrl0/YPUv5Fy94bI/AAAAAAAAE6I/CiYNbiRUa1sSgnrE8x-tyt8YMxG1sH-ZgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B4.%2BBirthday%2B%2526%2BHome%2BItalian.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: x-large;">Sites opening up again</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So if we live long enough to be in the market for a new car, electric will be the way to go. In the meantime, the pleasures of bread-making, flower arranging, table setting and dining at home are not to be abandoned lightly when the economy “opens up.” <b><i><span style="color: #b45f06;">Buy locally? Travel locally? Save the planet?</span></i></b> It’s been a pleasure to return to the (local-ish) Bolton Abbey Estate, and re-adding it to our repertoire of beauty spots, alongside the Leeds-Liverpool canal and the River Aire. A Man of the Year from the early 19th Century, <b><span style="color: #b45f06;">Lord Byron, <i><span style="font-family: verdana;">“mad, bad and dangerous to know,”</span></i></span></b> expressed my feelings about walks and nature perfectly in <b><i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Childe_Harold%27s_Pilgrimage" target="_blank">Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage</a></i></b>:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>There is a rapture on the lonely shore,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>There is society, where none intrudes,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b>I love not Man the less, but Nature more….</b></span></div></blockquote><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sWXOm9f0ILc/YPUwdoRFMnI/AAAAAAAAE6Q/rn8FNL2TnAI36jUAAQ6Ogscby2EXbqVUQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B5.%2BBolton%2BAbbey%2BCanal%2BRiver.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sWXOm9f0ILc/YPUwdoRFMnI/AAAAAAAAE6Q/rn8FNL2TnAI36jUAAQ6Ogscby2EXbqVUQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B5.%2BBolton%2BAbbey%2BCanal%2BRiver.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">River Wharfe at Bolton Abbey, River Aire near Saltaire and Leeds-Liverpool canal</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p> </p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-63643955156869321402021-04-10T10:39:00.001+01:002021-04-24T11:05:41.906+01:00The Peace of Wild Things<div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-73lfGcrGcwg/YIPrBQgo3OI/AAAAAAAAEzc/7qDSf8-DW98K0Zn3u0T38-SNq2Hz3GbxQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B1.%2BFamiliar%2BTurns.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-73lfGcrGcwg/YIPrBQgo3OI/AAAAAAAAEzc/7qDSf8-DW98K0Zn3u0T38-SNq2Hz3GbxQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B1.%2BFamiliar%2BTurns.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A path diverging from the familiar....</td></tr></tbody></table>Everything Old Is New Again</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">At President Joe Biden’s inauguration, the young poet, <b><span style="color: #274e13;">Amanda Gorman</span></b>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZ055ilIiN4" target="_blank">speaking to “Americans, and The World,”</a> expressed poetically how humans <b><i><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana;">strive and thrive with passion and compassion</span></i></b> (to borrow a phrase from another of my favourite poets, <b><span style="color: #274e13;">Maya Angelou</span></b>):</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"> Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"> That even as we grieved, we grew,</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"> That even as we hurt, we hoped,</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"> That even as we tired, we tried.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have to hope that the post-Covid world (when the disease is endemic rather than ripping across the globe without fear nor favour) will be a better world, where we can see things freshly and anew. Despite trudging many local byways over the years that I have lived in Saltaire, occasionally a new route presents itself and, on a familiar trail around the <a href="https://boltonabbey.com/" target="_blank"><b>Bolton Abbey estate</b></a> recently, we followed a signpost to Coney Warren and trod a path that was new to us.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L70QlSqOOn0/YIPrPd74hWI/AAAAAAAAEzg/DJYfRlJQMA4WNZjEAeUopd6swH6zlEz5QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B2.%2BRoute%2Bto%2BPosforth.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L70QlSqOOn0/YIPrPd74hWI/AAAAAAAAEzg/DJYfRlJQMA4WNZjEAeUopd6swH6zlEz5QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B2.%2BRoute%2Bto%2BPosforth.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Intrepid Exploration</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">Posforth Gill and Posforth Force</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Negotating steep slopes, stiles, heathery fields, and walls by woods, it was reasonably easy to reach the <b><span style="color: #274e13;">Valley of Desolation</span></b> where two falls, slightly tucked away but worth the find, thunder over drops. The higher falls, reached by a cul-de-sac path, is at <b><span style="color: #274e13;">Posforth Gill</span></b> and the lower falls, the longer drops, are named <b><span style="color: #274e13;">Posforth Force</span></b>. A perfect place for a picnic.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TKx9B9l7C6k/YIPrbZVpqiI/AAAAAAAAEzk/cBI6-984IKAsOyjU2b3pYprWk95VWZetACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B3.%2BPosforth%2BForce%2Band%2BGill.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TKx9B9l7C6k/YIPrbZVpqiI/AAAAAAAAEzk/cBI6-984IKAsOyjU2b3pYprWk95VWZetACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B3.%2BPosforth%2BForce%2Band%2BGill.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">Reflecting back, projecting forward</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Nature by day, TV by night! It’s notable that our TV-watching during this second or third Covid-lockdown (depending on whether you count local lockdowns) has mixed stressful police or medical dramas (<b><i>Line of Duty, Unforgotten, ER</i></b>) with gentler fare (<b><i>Schitt’s Creek, Greyson’s Art Club, The Great Pottery Throw Down</i></b>). It’s almost as if we need the <b><i><span style="color: #274e13;">distress</span></i></b> to stay alert to issues and problems outside the pandemic and the beneficial stress (the <b><i><span style="color: #274e13;">eustress</span></i></b>) to help us sleep. <b><i><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana;">Whatever gets you through the night.</span></i></b> <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ewB0WL3bNw" target="_blank">I’ve found the poem</a> <b><i><span style="color: #274e13;">The Peace of Wild Things </span></i></b>a useful go-to poem during the last year. It was written by <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wendell_Berry" target="_blank">Wendell Berry (born 1934)</a></b>, a poet-philospher, essayist and novelist who is also a farmer and environmental activist.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y38uRDX4T7g/YIPrkDQN9zI/AAAAAAAAEzs/o5i9Ho0vbloBtww_IAzQN_Tr94w31oGDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B4.%2BLa%2BRue.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y38uRDX4T7g/YIPrkDQN9zI/AAAAAAAAEzs/o5i9Ho0vbloBtww_IAzQN_Tr94w31oGDwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B4.%2BLa%2BRue.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Whatever Gets You Through The Night</i></b></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><i><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: x-large;">The Peace of Wild Things</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">by Wendell Berry</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">When despair for the world grows in me</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">and I wake in the night at the least sound</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">I go and lie down where the wood drake</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">I come into the peace of wild things</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">who do not tax their lives with forethought</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">of grief. I come into the presence of still water.</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">And I feel above me the day-blind stars</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">waiting with their light. For a time</span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.</span></b></div><div style="font-size: large;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">It is interesting that this poem was included in a collection, </span><b style="font-size: large;"><i>Tools of the trade: Poems for new doctors</i></b><span style="font-size: large;">, given to all graduating doctors in Scotland between 2014 and 2018. By doing so, the medical organisations were acknowledging that poetry (or lyrics in general or more broadly the Arts) can play a vital role in contributing to the well being of all (both patients and health practitioners.) I have always believed this to be self-evident which is why the Tory party’s suggestion that ballerinas (and by implication all arts workers) should retrain to work in IT (</span><i style="font-size: large;">Fatima’s next job could be in cyber – she just doesn’t know it yet</i><span style="font-size: large;">) was so unenlightened and counter to the true </span><b style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #274e13;">“wealth of the nation” - the peace of wild things and the people who grew, hoped and tried.</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RkEcLS8vMx8/YIPr1FDG3lI/AAAAAAAAEz4/4s0wfoskyt4aRqDOkNqMTQj13UTAC5FPgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B5.%2BWillow%2BHorizon.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RkEcLS8vMx8/YIPr1FDG3lI/AAAAAAAAEz4/4s0wfoskyt4aRqDOkNqMTQj13UTAC5FPgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B5.%2BWillow%2BHorizon.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span></i></b></span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-88620745443744218712021-04-03T15:37:00.004+01:002021-04-12T07:42:51.702+01:00Couple of Swells<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-26XELVUnDW8/YHMJr9zve2I/AAAAAAAAEyU/ATxtBx0vmI4QS-vZz0wjwoV4t_1DXy6qACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B1.%2BTop%2BWithins.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-26XELVUnDW8/YHMJr9zve2I/AAAAAAAAEyU/ATxtBx0vmI4QS-vZz0wjwoV4t_1DXy6qACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B1.%2BTop%2BWithins.png" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">Return to Top Withins</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><i>We're a couple of swells</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><i>We stop at the best hotels</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><i>But we prefer the country far away from the city smells</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><i>So we'll walk up the Avenue</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><i>Yes, we'll walk up the Avenue</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">And we’ll walk up</span></i></b> to <b><span style="color: #274e13;">Top Withins</span></b> is what we’ll do…</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s been a while, but as Covid-19 restrictions are lifted, a picnic on the moors above Haworth is a great place to blow away the cobwebs and drink in the Yorkshire air.</span></div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YjivGE5gn6E/YHMJ3ELyj7I/AAAAAAAAEyY/NTA8EHiB4yYrj7kzzaIPfp1MueYT0hYRgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B2.%2BGood%2BFriday.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YjivGE5gn6E/YHMJ3ELyj7I/AAAAAAAAEyY/NTA8EHiB4yYrj7kzzaIPfp1MueYT0hYRgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B2.%2BGood%2BFriday.png" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">Rolling Away The Metaphorical Stone</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And because we can gather in gardens again, <b><span style="color: #274e13;">Sally’s birthday</span></b> was resurrected, this time with a sit-down meal beneath a canopy, under fairy lights, wrapped up warm, with nearest and dearest…. And communing in real life is so much better than cyberchatting. Pixels don’t do justice to the breathing souls of human beings. Online meetups are all very well, but my understanding of the art and science of communication is that pauses, interruptions, false starts, ellisions, facial expressions and eyebrow twitches are all essential to comprehension. Software doesn’t allow simultaneous argument or overlap so bring on <b><span style="color: #274e13;">LIVING people in REAL LIFE</span></b>…</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m2jkAtdKzLg/YHMKBhllypI/AAAAAAAAEyg/xtjAC_KwjlADYRGOab3WrZoj04WZmQPCgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B3.%2BEaster%2BParade.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m2jkAtdKzLg/YHMKBhllypI/AAAAAAAAEyg/xtjAC_KwjlADYRGOab3WrZoj04WZmQPCgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B3.%2BEaster%2BParade.png" width="640" /></a></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">With all the frills upon it</span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The screen is certainly good, though, for treats like <b style="color: #274e13;">Judy Garland, Fred Astaire, Ann Miller </b>and<b style="color: #274e13;"> Peter Lawford</b> walking down that Avenue with their Easter bonnets, watching out for that fella with his umbrella, shaking the blues away, being drum crazy, loving a piano and stepping out with my baby…. A further significant movie experience during the week building up to Easter included Scorsese’s exquisite film of <i style="color: #274e13; font-weight: bold;">The Age of Innocence </i>with <b style="color: #274e13;">Daniel Day Lewis, Michelle Pfeiffer, Winona Ryder </b>and<b style="color: #274e13;"> Miriam Margolyes</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><i><b><blockquote>“Ah, good conversation - there's nothing like it, is there? The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing.”</blockquote></b></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TiVMmr91ZeU/YHMKIRTRFtI/AAAAAAAAEyo/QYm7NZqJbXMNS-Vo062p7OYv7Vh3BhUpACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B4.%2BAge%2Bof%2BInnocence.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TiVMmr91ZeU/YHMKIRTRFtI/AAAAAAAAEyo/QYm7NZqJbXMNS-Vo062p7OYv7Vh3BhUpACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B4.%2BAge%2Bof%2BInnocence.png" width="640" /></a></div><div><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">Spring Fighting With Winter</span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Blossoms are appearing, tulips are opening, daffodils are fluttering as they should. But the nights are still frosty and the weather is unpredictable. But I’ve been feeling the unexpected budding buds of a scintilla of desire to get back to some creative writing. Whether or not I will write creatively again feels a bit immaterial at the moment, given the efforts needed to “get through” the tail end of the pandemic crisis. I hope the world isn’t exactly the same as it was before. I expect to continue hiking through the trees, beside the streams, under the skies and planning…. planning for the next stages of the endemic-Covid world…</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Kp9CZd2R18/YHMKP6GK68I/AAAAAAAAEys/BdpyjWtZ8RYbkXdkmYf8wqHVoleJWqt7gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/%2521%2B5.%2BFlowers.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Kp9CZd2R18/YHMKP6GK68I/AAAAAAAAEys/BdpyjWtZ8RYbkXdkmYf8wqHVoleJWqt7gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/%2521%2B5.%2BFlowers.png" width="640" /></a></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-44332212291531341292021-03-20T17:35:00.062+00:002021-03-28T17:55:53.643+01:00Vaccinated Diamond Birthday<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-paax1oLqbuc/YGCxnRTxsSI/AAAAAAAAEwY/QDGvZFOF6AoUVByNkIvXNDvWnldVSHKiACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BHeading.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-paax1oLqbuc/YGCxnRTxsSI/AAAAAAAAEwY/QDGvZFOF6AoUVByNkIvXNDvWnldVSHKiACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BHeading.png" width="640" /></a></div>Six Months Later</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So, six months after I was born in Wakefield, Sally Anne Allard was born on St Patrick’s Day in Bradford. March 2021 marked <b><span style="color: #741b47;">Sally’s Diamond Birthday</span></b>. It wasn’t “normal” in that there was no meal out and no trip to the cinema or theatre…. But it was normal in keeping up the tradition of getting together with our daughters (even if we were walking two by two) and eating and drinking (a picnic in the open air, socially distanced.) Last March we began locking down before the government asked us to and this year we look forward to restrictions being lifted. So in the weeks and months to come I hope we’ll have a <b><i><span style="color: #741b47;">series</span></i></b> of further birthday-style events….</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kJtYtpZZ3Hw/YGCyEJQMYCI/AAAAAAAAEwg/LZPLwYBHWLcHQu-BJKiwguiZj4xQ7jH8ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BCards.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kJtYtpZZ3Hw/YGCyEJQMYCI/AAAAAAAAEwg/LZPLwYBHWLcHQu-BJKiwguiZj4xQ7jH8ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BCards.png" width="640" /></a></div><b style="color: #741b47; font-family: arial; font-size: x-large;">St Patrick’s Day over the previous five years</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">2016 – <b><i>Anomaleesa</i></b> at The Everyman Cinema in Leeds</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">2017 – Gardening course and the live action <b><i>Beauty and the Beast</i></b> at The Everyman</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">2018 – Icy walk, wintry views and meal at home with (Sally’s choice of) <b><i>Minority Report</i></b> on the TV</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">2019 – The RSC touring production of <b><i>Matilda</i></b> at Bradford Alhambra and <b><i>Green Book</i></b> at Showcase</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;">2020 – Almost UK-wide Lockdown, hikes (on different days) to the Druid’s Altar and Top Withins</span></li></ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VkAz6A8Rbak/YGCzDdyiVcI/AAAAAAAAEwo/ggIpd-hFbGAxUhd_ZIqTF11ID0oowLLuQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3%2BCardigan.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VkAz6A8Rbak/YGCzDdyiVcI/AAAAAAAAEwo/ggIpd-hFbGAxUhd_ZIqTF11ID0oowLLuQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3%2BCardigan.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b style="color: #741b47; font-family: arial; font-size: x-large;">No cinema, no theatre, but plenty still to enjoy</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">In the bullet-points above, I’ve mentioned cultural events that made 2016-19 distinctive, but all years have still included cards, a cake and presents revolving around themes of <b><span style="color: #741b47;">gardening, glamour, reading, flowers, food and drink</span></b>. This year a parade of visitors passed by the garden gate to wish Many Happy Returns and delivery folk turned up at a steady pace…. Unusual gifts this year included a phone call from Australia, a home-knitted cardigan and a kit from <b>Dishoom</b> to make Naan-Bacon-Rolls. (After nearly 35 years of marriage we are learning to be cooperative in the kitchen!)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zUvb-aGqqnw/YGCzmELq_8I/AAAAAAAAEww/oZqQAc3HKmEo19pteRLkdp9mmSnpmt4bgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BDishoom%2BNaan-Bacon-Rolls.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zUvb-aGqqnw/YGCzmELq_8I/AAAAAAAAEww/oZqQAc3HKmEo19pteRLkdp9mmSnpmt4bgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BDishoom%2BNaan-Bacon-Rolls.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b>Birthday Talents</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It’s easy to celebrate birthdays with Sally (or spend Christmas, or go on holiday, or do Bonfire Night, or do anything really….) All that’s needed are messages of love from family and friends and some time together making human connections. All the Lockdowns in the world can’t squash Sally’s talents for being generous and open-hearted to whatever can be achieved with whatever resources are at hand….</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4HUAqucHx90/YGCz2meXYmI/AAAAAAAAEw4/I-PVulj_Wa8PTE1PlDwugn2Iu1ZhFYOJACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/4.%2BPrezzies.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4HUAqucHx90/YGCz2meXYmI/AAAAAAAAEw4/I-PVulj_Wa8PTE1PlDwugn2Iu1ZhFYOJACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/4.%2BPrezzies.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b style="color: #741b47; font-family: arial; font-size: x-large;">Spring in the air</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The birds are nest-building, the daffodils are out, the buds are budding, the daylight hours are longer – these are all signifiers of Sally’s birthday every year – the Spring of the year. And in 2021, the Covid vaccine rollout continues apace…. A Spring-like birthday present from the scientific and medical community. What will St Patrick’s Day in March 2022 bring? We’ll be a year older. Will we still be socially distancing? Wearing masks? Time will tell.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7EJXf5zmM-E/YGC06AlpCqI/AAAAAAAAExA/ALSDIPFe_-cBj2ITtzQgGsVr3YLT9pseACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/6.%2BChristine%2BCard.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7EJXf5zmM-E/YGC06AlpCqI/AAAAAAAAExA/ALSDIPFe_-cBj2ITtzQgGsVr3YLT9pseACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/6.%2BChristine%2BCard.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><i>A Birthday</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">by Christina Rossetti</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>My heart is like a singing bird</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Whose nest is in a water’d shoot;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>My heart is like an apple-tree</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>My heart is like a rainbow shell</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>That paddles in a halcyon sea;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>My heart is gladder than all these</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Because my love is come to me. </b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Raise me a dais of silk and down;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Hang it with vair and purple dyes;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Carve it in doves and pomegranates,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>And peacocks with a hundred eyes;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Work it in gold and silver grapes,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Because the birthday of my life</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Is come, my love is come to me.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3dRt3_pBThI/YGC1BeUpP1I/AAAAAAAAExE/rRaARSJpTa8nwr2svS8YPEC0k_tya5cwgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1200/7.%2BFacebook%2BPost.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3dRt3_pBThI/YGC1BeUpP1I/AAAAAAAAExE/rRaARSJpTa8nwr2svS8YPEC0k_tya5cwgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/7.%2BFacebook%2BPost.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b></span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-66418130890971297372021-03-13T09:03:00.045+00:002021-03-29T09:14:51.657+01:00Hope Springs Eternal<div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mMQvijITprg/YGGMCTEyrqI/AAAAAAAAExQ/ThxfBcWaxMo3WlmTYlZey7V7xvLJxFxhQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BCockeyed%2BOptimist.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mMQvijITprg/YGGMCTEyrqI/AAAAAAAAExQ/ThxfBcWaxMo3WlmTYlZey7V7xvLJxFxhQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BCockeyed%2BOptimist.png" width="640" /></a></div>Stuck like a dope with a thing called hope</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This week I have mostly been walking, eating, drinking, talking, reading, doing jigsaws, sleeping, watching TV, Zooming…. You know how it goes. But we’ve made a return to Bolton Abbey for walks and picnics so that’s good. Ensign Nellie Forbush (knucklehead Nellie) sings insistently in Rodgers and Hammerstein’s <b><i><span style="color: #274e13;">South Pacific</span></i></b>:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>When the sky is a bright canary yellow</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>I forget every cloud I've ever seen,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>So they called me a cockeyed optimist</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Immature and incurably green</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>I have heard people rant and rave and bellow</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>That we're done and we might as well be dead,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>But I'm only a cockeyed optimist</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>And I can't get it into my head</b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I can be infuriatingly like Nellie. There will be a silver lining. The glass is half full. I do believe in fairies.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JiTXknnzxtE/YGGMJG61AlI/AAAAAAAAExU/ar4FEzIfseAo8BcdOA_Tqd85byqac9FVwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BHope%2BSprings%2BEternal.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JiTXknnzxtE/YGGMJG61AlI/AAAAAAAAExU/ar4FEzIfseAo8BcdOA_Tqd85byqac9FVwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BHope%2BSprings%2BEternal.png" width="640" /></a></div></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: #274e13; font-size: large;">Hope Springs</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I know from NHS workers that the past year has seen spirits lurch from shock to despair to elation to exhaustion to despondency to trauma to grief to relief to fortitude to numbness…. But the Covid crisis has also exposed <b><span style="color: #274e13;">wells of resilience and blankets of compassion</span></b>. In his <b><i><span style="color: #274e13;">An Essay on Man</span></i></b>, Alexander Pope urges us not to look to God for answers:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>The proper study of Mankind is Man….</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>….Alike in ignorance, his reason such,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Whether he thinks too little, or too much:</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus'd;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Still by himself, abus'd, or disabus'd;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Created half to rise, and half to fall;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all….</b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And yet…. And yet….</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Hope springs eternal in the human breast</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Man never is, but always to be, blest.</b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Time (and the vaccine programme) marches on. There are reasons to be hopeful. The detritus of the pandemic (including the lessons we could learn) will inevitably and ineffably <b><span style="color: #274e13;">flow under the bridge</span></b>. And Spring will come again. Hope will spring eternal.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EgCrAnGM4FU/YGGMR0QihDI/AAAAAAAAExY/TMlLWlTq4JY_6NZYV58WipOvlp-GbU3WgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BWater%2BUnder%2BThe%2BBridge.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EgCrAnGM4FU/YGGMR0QihDI/AAAAAAAAExY/TMlLWlTq4JY_6NZYV58WipOvlp-GbU3WgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BWater%2BUnder%2BThe%2BBridge.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water under the bridge....</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-4145890605629600962021-02-27T13:01:00.004+00:002021-03-08T16:46:30.387+00:00Talking Shakespeare Neljä (Four)<div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mxtCEd0L1EM/YEZTK2aGApI/AAAAAAAAEvI/gAjOkOKqPI4dnGf7HXvv2xBg9ICT1NF-QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BHeading.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mxtCEd0L1EM/YEZTK2aGApI/AAAAAAAAEvI/gAjOkOKqPI4dnGf7HXvv2xBg9ICT1NF-QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BHeading.png" width="640" /></a></div>Dense, Juicy, Layered</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">David Oyelowo, speaking from Los Angeles, remembered a dusty (and intimidating) copy of Shakespeare’s plays in his family’s Islington council flat. He was later surprised to discover Kenneth Branagh’s film of <b><i>Henry V</i></b> was also written by Shakespeare, having watched it as a movie, not caring about the language. The real breakthrough for David, though, was seeing a live production at the National Theatre – the visceral production of Robert Lapage’s mudbath <b><i>Midsummer Night’s Dream</i></b> with Timothy Spall as Bottom. David started acting accidentally when he tried to impress a girl by joining a youth theatre and then standing in when another young actor couldn’t attend because of a tube strike. His Theatre Studies teacher, Jill Foster, encouraged him to consider acting as a profession and helped David audition (successfully) for LAMDA. His father fully expected him to “get it out of his system” when he was given small roles (seven lines in <b><i>Antony and Cleopatra</i></b>) at the Royal Shakespeare Company. But the bug had bitten and seeing someone like Mark Rylance in his fourth incarnation of Hamlet at The Globe deliver the language with <i><span style="font-family: verdana;">“dexterity, musculariy and elasticity”</span></i> further reinforced David’s conviction that Shakespeare is the <i><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Everest of Acting… so dense, so juicy, so layered.” </span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k2EyP7ejrE8/YEZTTTtg7tI/AAAAAAAAEvM/tUYmHdeaVU4oBZ5D9ynNU5poF9h_KQ6UwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BDavid%2BHelen%2BIan.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k2EyP7ejrE8/YEZTTTtg7tI/AAAAAAAAEvM/tUYmHdeaVU4oBZ5D9ynNU5poF9h_KQ6UwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BDavid%2BHelen%2BIan.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greg Doran of the Royal Shakespeare Talking Shakespeare with David Oyelowo, Helen Mirren and Ian McKellen</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Vulnerability and Frailty</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He gave a very funny account of getting the role of Henry VI and loved “the journey” of his time on Michael Boyd’s production but became weary of the “pioneer” emphasis placed on him by the media wanting to interview him about being the first black actor at the RSC to play an English king. He detected a similarity between Dr Martin Luther King in the movie <b><i>Selma</i></b> and Henry VI where the abiding motivation for both characters, as he played them, was religious faith, leading to vulnerability and frailty. David felt that both MLK and Henry VI fully expected everyone around them to be imbued with the same values and were both destabilised when the. His other major Shakespeare role was playing Othello with Daniel Craig and Rachel Brosnahan (as Iago and Desdemona) in an intimate production in New York in 2015. Like Greg Doran, I hope he can be tempted away from Hollywood for more UK stage work in the future.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--ycNMn43_dc/YEZTltkmcBI/AAAAAAAAEvY/E_JnjdHymQQEm3aEbTRGdi2yT-tClB7xACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BDavid%2BOyelowo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--ycNMn43_dc/YEZTltkmcBI/AAAAAAAAEvY/E_JnjdHymQQEm3aEbTRGdi2yT-tClB7xACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BDavid%2BOyelowo.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Selection of David Oyelowo roles: as Henry VI, Othello, Orlando in <i>As You Like It </i>and the movie <i>Selma</i></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Queen Helen</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Helen Mirren is a multiple award winner: she has carried home an Oscar, a Tony and an Emmy and has famously played a line of queens: Queen Margaret in the <b><i>Henry VI</i></b> trilogy; and on TV and film: Catherine the Great, Elizabeth I and Elizabeth II. She also has the distinction of playing Cleopatra three times, first at the National Youth Theatre in 1963 and then later playing opposite Michael Gambon (1982) and Alan Rickman (1998) as her Antonys. I was lucky to see the 1982 Adrian Noble production (in The Other Place in Stratford-upon-Avon) and for me it became a benchmark production of how epic plays can be staged in small spaces. Helen’s early memories of working at the RSC include watching the generous Ian Richardson from the wings in <b><i>Coriolanus</i></b>. She reminisced about working (warily) with the mercurial Nicol Williamson (on both stage and in the film <b><i>Excalibur</i></b>) and played Lady Anne, Julia in <b><i>Two Gentlemen of Verona</i></b> and Ophelia to Alan Howard’s Hamlet. She also vividly recounted the touring production of <b><i>Troilus and Cressida</i></b> which many argued brought the play back into favour in modern times and she described working with Peter Brook in the legendary project <b><i>Conference of the Birds</i></b> which toured the Saharan regions of Africa in 1979.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3IRhnOujRrw/YEZT_2NQ2pI/AAAAAAAAEvg/w8MNLuEdGKs9kS3BS59Y5py2DOcinh0NQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/4.%2BHelen%2BMirren.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3IRhnOujRrw/YEZT_2NQ2pI/AAAAAAAAEvg/w8MNLuEdGKs9kS3BS59Y5py2DOcinh0NQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/4.%2BHelen%2BMirren.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helen Mirren as Cleopatra (three times), Cressida, Prospera in <i>The Tempest</i> and Rosalind in <i>As You Like It</i></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Sir Ian ("You shall not pass....")</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ian McKellen has had recent experience of remembering his distinguished acting career as part of his touring one-man show which raised considerable funds for small venues throughout the UK. (<b><i>Tolkien, Shakespeare, Others and You</i></b>.) With Greg Doran he shared early memories of seeing and loving theatre and getting involved in amateur and school productions. He always thought Shakespeare seemed fun and enjoyed travelling down from Bolton for school Shakespeare camps in Stratford-upon-Avon. He saw Laurence Olivier, Peggy Ashcroft and Charles Laughton in their prime (but also confessed to sleeping through Olivier’s <b><i>Corialanus</i></b> – it was a school trip, after all.) At Cambridge he joined the Marlowe Society and came under the influence of George Rylands who has mentored many of today’s great theatre directors as well as John Barton who persuaded young McKellen he could play the ancient Justice Shallow in <i style="font-weight: bold;">Henry IV Part Two</i>. He gave a moving account of working at Nottingham Playhouse with Tyrone Guthrie who gave McKellen confidence about becoming an actor and credits Maggie Smith with recommending him to Olivier to join the Old Vic. He was waspish about Franco Zefirelli and had insights into the impact of Olivier and of touring Shakespeare in the provinces and abroad with Prospect Theatre. I’ve seen many of his stage performances and been lucky to meet him both backstage after <b><i>Waiting for Godot</i></b> and at a UK showing of the film <b><i>Gods and Monsters</i></b> at Bradford’s Pictureville Cinema. Always gracious and always energetic, with a significant place in popular film history with his portrayals of Magneto and Gandalf, Sir Ian continues to be an astonishing creative force for good in the UK.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DM0kHWHxIl4/YEZUUYqvTvI/AAAAAAAAEvo/zJjue7XBCVQD3IoWhZHfXe1Fd3rf_Q09gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/5.%2BIan%2BMcKellen.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DM0kHWHxIl4/YEZUUYqvTvI/AAAAAAAAEvo/zJjue7XBCVQD3IoWhZHfXe1Fd3rf_Q09gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/5.%2BIan%2BMcKellen.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ian McKellen as Romeo, Macbeth, Toby Belch in <i>Twelfth Night </i>(which I saw in Doncaster!), Coriolanus, Richard III, King Lear (twice) and Prospero in <i>The Tempest</i> at Leeds Playhouse</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-74875070367014816002021-02-20T11:23:00.003+00:002021-03-29T09:02:25.268+01:00Snowdrops and Pancakes<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6u671bf-Ks/YDDwfUJCCTI/AAAAAAAAEuI/dc6X-QGbLnAxOZA_RszHK4T2pwv3Ag2FgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BSnowdrops%2Band%2BPancakes.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6u671bf-Ks/YDDwfUJCCTI/AAAAAAAAEuI/dc6X-QGbLnAxOZA_RszHK4T2pwv3Ag2FgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BSnowdrops%2Band%2BPancakes.png" width="640" /></a></div>Raindrops on roses</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">If I were to rank order Maria von Trapp’s list from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s <b><i><span style="color: #7f6000;">My Favourite Things</span></i></b> I would place at the top:</span></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Silver white Winters that melt into Springs</span></i></b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">….which is why it has been lovely this past week to to see <b><span style="color: #7f6000;">snowdrops</span></b> on our walks – appearing, like magic, in the week when I also discovered a new way to make <b><span style="color: #7f6000;">pancakes</span></b>. Yes, Shrove Tuesday, it must be the start of Lent:</span></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">“And every man and maide doe take their turne,</span></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">And tosse their Pancakes up for feare they burne.”</span></i></b></span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">(proverb from 1619)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Well, this year, no <b><span style="color: #7f6000;">Pancake Bell</span></b> summoned me to be <b><span style="color: #7f6000;">“shriven”</span></b> (absolved of my sins through confession) but I still appreciated the symbols:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: medium;"><b>Eggs </b><i>(creation, fertility, eternity, the world itself)</i></span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: medium;"><b>Salt </b><i>(purification, seasoning and wholesomeness)</i></span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: medium;"><b>Flour </b><i>(the staff of life, domestic frugality and hard work)</i></span></span></li><li><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: medium;"><b>Milk </b><i>(purity, abundance, the primal food)</i></span></span></li></ul></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">and tried a new thing (actually a medieval trick) of gradually making a paste with everything except the egg whites and then folding the whisked egg whites gently into the paste…. <span style="color: #7f6000;"><b>Reader, I made them. </b><i>Fluffy, or what?</i></span> The collage above includes a picture of one of the more well-done ones (<b><i><span style="color: #7f6000;">As I Like It</span></i></b>) and includes a dollop of stewed rhubarb (cos I is from Yorkshire) and some coconut yoghurt (cos I is a bit tropical.) Oh, and look, there’s the latest completed <b><span style="color: #7f6000;">puzzle</span></b>. Oh, and there’s me having had <b><span style="color: #7f6000;">my first Covid-19 vaccination….</span></b> And after all these months<i> (the first recorded Covid cases in the UK were identified in York on January 31st 2020)</i> I reflect that I have spent the greatest part of the year in the company of one person, so under the collage is one of <b><i><span style="color: #7f6000;">My Favourite Poems</span></i></b> in tribute….</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pcjhZw-aFNs/YDDwqJVlK-I/AAAAAAAAEuM/QpAqxThJmRk2m0C74WBN1EQzRbbNSoynACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BS%2526T%2BCollage.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pcjhZw-aFNs/YDDwqJVlK-I/AAAAAAAAEuM/QpAqxThJmRk2m0C74WBN1EQzRbbNSoynACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BS%2526T%2BCollage.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><i>A Marriage</i></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">by Michael Blumenthal </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">You are holding up a ceiling</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">with both arms. It is very heavy,</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">but you must hold it up, or else</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">it will fall down on you. Your arms </span></b></span><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">are tired, terribly tired,</span></b></span></div></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">and, as the day goes on, it feels</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">as if either your arms or the ceiling</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">will soon collapse.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>But then</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">unexpectedly,</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">something wonderful happens:</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Someone,</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">a man or a woman,</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">walks into the room</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">and holds their arms up</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">to the ceiling beside you.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">So you finally get</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">to take down your arms.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>You feel the relief of respite,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">the blood flowing back</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">to your fingers and arms.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">And when your partner’s arms tire,</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">you hold up your own</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">to relieve him again.</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>And it can go on like this</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">for many years</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">without the house falling.</span></b></span></div></blockquote><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eaOoTyPWHjw/YDDwx87OZUI/AAAAAAAAEuU/-DbABDhbvBIo16_ngmmD7eEuyCn4wpdGwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BMichael%2BBlumenthal.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eaOoTyPWHjw/YDDwx87OZUI/AAAAAAAAEuU/-DbABDhbvBIo16_ngmmD7eEuyCn4wpdGwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BMichael%2BBlumenthal.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top left, Michael Blumenthal</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-4558484049876803272021-02-13T10:55:00.000+00:002021-02-13T10:55:08.492+00:00Delifresh Valentine<div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FwUwVn3wvu4/YCevavAjHwI/AAAAAAAAEtc/icHE7w4Ws7kcxizOXdKXWBlAen3MCa7cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BHeading.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FwUwVn3wvu4/YCevavAjHwI/AAAAAAAAEtc/icHE7w4Ws7kcxizOXdKXWBlAen3MCa7cgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BHeading.png" width="640" /></a></div>Give and take, prod and pull</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H46sixz9Z4A" target="_blank">Anne McClain (astronaut)</a> has given good tips on living in (quarantined) close quarters:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #800180;">Communication.</span></b> Listen attentively, <span style="color: red;">respond,</span> identify non-verbal signals, question, reflect, repeat….</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #800180;">Leadership/followership.</span></b> Accept responsibility whether you’re leading or following and present solutions not problems <i>(Anne points out that a follower is actually a subordinate leader, contributing to the leader’s direction – and on the international space station everyone both leads and follows, a good tip for relationships – <span style="color: red;">give and take, prod and pull</span>)</i></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #800180;">Self Care.</span></b> No-one knows how to take care of yourself better than your very own self (as long as you take time to check what works for you: check regularly <span style="color: red;">hygiene, sleep, fuel, body, mind and mood</span> – and change if necessary.) Optimise strengths. Be open about weaknesses and feelings.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #800180;">Team Care</span><span style="color: red;">.</span></b> Demonstrate patience and respect. <span style="color: red;">Encourage.</span> Monitor stress, fatigue, sickness, supplies, resources, workload. Volunteer. <span style="color: red;">Share credit.</span> Take blame.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #800180;">Group Living.</span></b> Cooperate, don’t compete. <span style="color: red;">Keep calm in conflict.</span> Take accountability and give praise freely.</span></li></ul></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MWEZDH896G0/YCevjhB0TVI/AAAAAAAAEtg/b1bNWSlqnZomI00_dwKfsVtB_pSoxTdogCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BThe%2BMeal.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MWEZDH896G0/YCevjhB0TVI/AAAAAAAAEtg/b1bNWSlqnZomI00_dwKfsVtB_pSoxTdogCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BThe%2BMeal.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Walk. Love. Limit the News.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In my first post this year, I set myself the three resolutions in the subheading above. I will now add a fourth. For 34 years of marriage Sally and I have shared “KP” (as we call it, from <b><i><span style="color: red;">White Christmas</span></i></b>…. Kitchen patrol….) and had our own particular dishes but cooked independently for 99.9% of the time because we <i><span style="color: red;">(me, to be honest)</span></i> didn’t follow Anne McClain’s advice and I like total control when I am Chief Chef. But in honour of 2021’s <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2017/02/saint-valentine.html" target="_blank">Valentine’s Day</a> we invested in a box of fresh local produce from <a href="https://www.delifreshltd.co.uk/" target="_blank">Delifresh</a> with recipe cards (and online video training) to cook a 3-course Valentine’s dinner together. <b><span style="color: red;">Together!</span></b> <i><span style="color: #800180;">Cooperating, like Anne McClain recommends for astronauts on the international space station....</span></i> And it worked – restaurant-quality ingredients and techniques resulted in hearty portions, including leftovers for the next day. For the first time in 60 years I helped make fondant potatoes! So…. <span style="color: red;">Walk. Love, Limit the News.</span> And…. <b><span style="color: red;">Cooperate in the kitchen.</span></b> Never too old to learn new tricks.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fWCVbMVklS4/YCevvVmCnaI/AAAAAAAAEto/IuwhS07wDs4Vie97jSvseEib8Nb3sIAXgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BLandscape.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fWCVbMVklS4/YCevvVmCnaI/AAAAAAAAEto/IuwhS07wDs4Vie97jSvseEib8Nb3sIAXgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BLandscape.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Changing Landscapes</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">More and more people I know are being vaccinated against Covid-19. I’m hoping to be jabbed before the end of March at the latest. I wonder what will change when we are living with Covid in a vaccinated world? I don’t think walking will stop. I’d never have guessed that the same series of walks over and over again could remain interesting but the changing mist and low cloud, changing frost and icy conditions, changing skies and winter light seem endlessly fascinating. A perfect ingredient in our astronaut <b><span style="color: #800180;">Self Care</span></b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UMUm1zWwB7Y/YCev4S5SRcI/AAAAAAAAEts/AlFYUwk5dSsTRnryCLV6bkCZLsGP9bsGwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/4.%2BEnding.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UMUm1zWwB7Y/YCev4S5SRcI/AAAAAAAAEts/AlFYUwk5dSsTRnryCLV6bkCZLsGP9bsGwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/4.%2BEnding.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-712588530567272602021-02-06T13:36:00.001+00:002021-02-07T16:13:03.275+00:00Then welcome, Winter<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4osHBcMn_Uc/YB6Zqenv_sI/AAAAAAAAEs8/A2P8veSgQy0SZriFYVQrNEDnGO4JXsmOQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BCall%2BMy%2BAgent.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4osHBcMn_Uc/YB6Zqenv_sI/AAAAAAAAEs8/A2P8veSgQy0SZriFYVQrNEDnGO4JXsmOQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BCall%2BMy%2BAgent.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hunkering down with <b style="font-style: italic;">Call My Agent </b>and <b style="font-style: italic;">It's A Sin</b></td></tr></tbody></table>Winter's costs and benefits</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Although this year’s Winter has not included usual highlights like sitting by roaring fires in stately homes, getting a beer at a Christmas market, singing carols in the cloisters at Fountains Abbey or solving Murder Mysteries on New Year’s Eve, <b><span style="color: #0c343d;">snow</span></b> has still fallen appropriately, <b><span style="color: #0c343d;">woolly clothes</span></b> have been wrapped around, <b><span style="color: #274e13;">mulled wine</span></b> has been glugged and <b><span style="color: #0c343d;">boots have crunched</span></b> on icy meadows. And I thank the Winter stars for the universe’s permission to savour <b><span style="color: #0c343d;">stodgy pudding and custard</span></b> at this time of year. I manage to stem the flow of inner tears when our weekly posh takeaway from <b><i><span style="color: #073763;">La Rue restaurant</span></i></b> in Saltaire doesn’t include a sponge pud as a dessert choice on their menu. But then I’m only human. Winter has costs but benefits too – hunkering down with movies and box sets, curtains shut, anticipating that Spring will come. <b><i><span style="color: #073763;">Carpe diem.</span></i></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZSKxtH8VtBA/YB6Z7YutrbI/AAAAAAAAEtE/UNctiGSQ19k-RjlOp7xhwOi5b37Gt8ZtACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BWinter%2BTurnberry.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZSKxtH8VtBA/YB6Z7YutrbI/AAAAAAAAEtE/UNctiGSQ19k-RjlOp7xhwOi5b37Gt8ZtACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BWinter%2BTurnberry.png" width="640" /></a></div></b></span><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;"><i>Winter's Beauty</i></span><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">by W H Davies</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Is it not fine to walk in Spring,<br />When leaves are born, and hear birds sing?<br />And when they lose their singing powers,<br />In Summer, watch the bees at flowers?<br />Is it not fine, when Summer's past,<br />To have the leaves, no longer fast,<br />Biting my heel where'er I go,<br />Or dancing lightly on my toe?<br />Now Winter's here and rivers freeze;<br />As I walk out I see the trees,<br />Wherein the pretty squirrels sleep,<br />All standing in the snow so deep:<br />And every twig, however small,<br />Is blossomed white and beautiful.<br />Then welcome, Winter, with thy power<br />To make this tree a big white flower;<br />To make this tree a lovely sight,<br />With fifty brown arms draped in white,<br />While thousands of small fingers show<br />In soft white gloves of purest snow.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #073763;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rKc8TvFa4Sw/YB6aIK5Lp4I/AAAAAAAAEtI/ZMwnbpD3SWMSg2EFnQO47Z8j31DW0db_QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BFour%2BSeasons.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rKc8TvFa4Sw/YB6aIK5Lp4I/AAAAAAAAEtI/ZMwnbpD3SWMSg2EFnQO47Z8j31DW0db_QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BFour%2BSeasons.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One tree, Four Seasons.... (plus the real Frankie Valli and the movie-acting Four Seasons from <i style="font-weight: bold;">Jersey Boys</i>)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-65890726364370924842021-01-30T16:17:00.007+00:002021-03-08T17:43:17.417+00:00Talking Shakespeare Kolme (Three)<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mfZiZDN3n84/YBWBcGxKD9I/AAAAAAAAErw/Wc38DQ6Sj4A8RvVsbMfVk0tvbRKdN2JrwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BDreams%2Bof%2BSummer.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mfZiZDN3n84/YBWBcGxKD9I/AAAAAAAAErw/Wc38DQ6Sj4A8RvVsbMfVk0tvbRKdN2JrwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BDreams%2Bof%2BSummer.png" width="640" /></a></div><b><span style="font-size: large;">Dreaming of Summer</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Another week of Lockdown Three with walking in the woods, reading books, watching TV, puzzling over jigsaws, enjoying one posh takeaway a week and playing <i><span style="color: #783f04;"><b>Dolly Dress Up</b></span></i> as Sally “went” to the online sales to buy a couple of dresses for summer. I also “attended” an <span style="color: #783f04;"><b>Old Vic</b></span> streaming of <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Matthew Warchus</span></b>’s theatre production of <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Brian Friel</span></b>’s <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">Faith Healer,</span></i></b> a play I know well having acted in it at university. The shifting perspectives of truth and memory, of creative performance and religion, of birth, death and sacrifice, of emigration and loyalty to country, relationships and self – all Friel’s rich and potent themes were played tenderly and truthfully by <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Michael Sheen, Indira Varma and David Threlfall</span></b>, actors at the heights of their powers. Counterbalancing the brain-flexing profundities of <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">Faith Healer</span></i></b> have been other cultural delights, including the ongoing revisit to <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">ER, Bridgerton</span></i></b> and the new season of <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">Call My Agent</span></i></b>, as well as more Talking Shakespeare from the <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Royal Shakespeare Company</span></b>.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zgWeB5MQ2bU/YBWCVxccUII/AAAAAAAAEr4/N5tBbJVFRwI7zxxKQdqZAXq9HIR9HHizgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BFaith%2BHealer.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zgWeB5MQ2bU/YBWCVxccUII/AAAAAAAAEr4/N5tBbJVFRwI7zxxKQdqZAXq9HIR9HHizgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BFaith%2BHealer.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cast of <i style="font-weight: bold;">Faith Healer, Bridgerton, ER, Call My Agent</i> and images of Harriet Walter, one of the "guests" in the RSC's Talking Shakespeare.</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Boldly beaming in from America</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">During lockdown, </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Patrick Stewart’</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;">s generous, tender and muscular readings of The Sonnets kept my brain (and heart) entertained on youtube so I looked forward to him “Talking Shakespeare” with </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #783f04;">Greg Doran</span></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> but, in fact, like many of the speakers, the range of his ideas were so vast that the 60-minute chat could easily have been the first in a series. He disarmed Greg Doran instantly with a sincere </span><b style="font-family: arial;"><i><span style="color: #783f04;">cri de coeur </span></i></b><span style="font-family: arial;">from America: </span><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: verdana;"><i>“How it does my heart good to see your Warwickshire face…..”</i></span><span style="font-family: arial;"> and began with a tribute to his English teacher, <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Cecil Dormand</span></b>, from Mirfield Secondary School, who had dropped copies of <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">Merchant of Venice</span></i></b> on his class’s school desks and insist they were going to act the play, not read it. Mr Dormand planted the seed in Stewart’s Yorkshire head that he should consider becoming a professional actor and decades later they are still in touch. Apparently, his ex-teacher is not particularly a fan of Science-fiction, though has loyally watched the 178 episodes in 7 seasons (and 4 films) of <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">Star Trek: The Next Generation</span></i></b> starring his ex-pupil as Captain Jean-Luc Picard; and thinks, but isn’t sure, that he has seen seven of the <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">X-Men</span></i></b> movie franchise for a sight of Professor Charles Xavier. (The latter information is from a <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">Yorkshire Evening Post</span></i></b> interview with Mr Dormand, rather than the Talking Shakespeare series.)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Gv_paemoVU/YBWDdQmK3RI/AAAAAAAAEsE/8BZ8fUw-T6orAh3KqKx3uggUSfoNf2augCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/3.%2BPatrick%2BHarriet%2BDavid%2BDavid.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1392" data-original-width="2048" height="436" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Gv_paemoVU/YBWDdQmK3RI/AAAAAAAAEsE/8BZ8fUw-T6orAh3KqKx3uggUSfoNf2augCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h436/3.%2BPatrick%2BHarriet%2BDavid%2BDavid.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Greg Doran interviewing Patrick Stewart, Harriet Walter, David Suchet and David Tennant</td></tr></tbody></table></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Eros, thou yet behold’st me?</span></b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #783f04;">Patrick Stewart </span></b>remembered auditioning for the <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Royal Shakespeare Company</span></b> on a rainy Sunday evening in early November, 1966. It was a struggle to get in the building and he offered his <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">Henry V</span></i></b> speech on a totally empty stage to <b style="color: #783f04;">Peter Hall, John Barton </b>and <b style="color: #783f04;">Maurice Daniels</b>. John came up to the edge of the stage after <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">Henry V</span></i></b> – and suggested he try it a completely different way. It was then the penny dropped about the need to be flexible and responsive when acting, something he also expanded on towards the end of his interview when describing his working relationship with <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Ian McKellen</span></b>. Stewart described the <b><span style="color: #783f04;">RSC</span></b> as his <span style="color: #783f04; font-family: verdana;">“grad school”</span> and is still grateful that one of his earlier directors was <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Peter Brook</span></b>. Stewart gave insights into film acting with advice from <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Rod Steiger</span></b> <span style="color: #783f04; font-family: verdana;"><i>(“you just need to think…. the camera photographs thoughts….”)</i></span> and an enthusiastic appreciation of Shakespeare’s language, particularly the ordinarily worded moments <i><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: verdana;">(“Oh, she’s warm…”)</span></i> that tap into a time-defying humanity. <span style="color: #783f04; font-family: verdana;">“Be Fearless”</span> was the knight’s main advice to younger actors. The distinguished theatre critic, <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Michael Billington,</span></b> argued that Patrick Stewart’s performance as Antony was one of the best Antonys he’d seen in decades, so it was also a great privilege to eavesdrop on the Cleopatra from that production, <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Harriet Walter</span></b>.</span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: large;">Another of The Greats</span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Like Patrick Stewart (who also discussed in some depth his interpretation of Antony, his chilly Prospero, his political Claudius and his isolated Shylock), <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Harriet Walter</span></b> had plenty to say and could have filled six episodes of Talking Shakespeare. Patrick Stewart revealed he was writing a memoir and Harriet Walter is already a significant contributor to anthologies about acting in Shakespeare and the sole author of</span></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><i style="color: #783f04; font-weight: bold;">Other People’s Shoes: Thoughts on Acting </i>and</span></li><li><b style="color: #783f04; font-size: large;"><i>Brutus and other heroines</i></b></li></ul></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Both books reflect on Walter’s long stage career having played extensively in Stratford-upon-Avon and at the National Theatre and interpreting Ophelia (at the Royal Court), both Helenas from <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">All’s Well That Ends Well </span></i></b>and <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">A Midsummer Night’s Dream</span></i></b>, Lady Percy, Imogen, Portia, Viola, Lady Macbeth, Cleopatra, Brutus, Henry IV, Prospero. The latter three, of course, are usually played by male actors but Harriet Walter has presented brilliant interpretations of those characters and paved the way for many other casting directors to think more boldly about what is possible in the art of theatre. Shakespeare wasn’t a “given” in her childhood but at drama school a bullying lecturer pushed her in the various different ways Hermione’s speeches could be acted in <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">The Winter’s Tale</span></i></b> and she learned a great deal playing Ophelia in Richard Eyre’s production of <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">Hamlet</span></i></b> with Jonathan Pryce (who famously conjured the ghost of Old Hamlet from his own imagination….) Having learned languages at school, Walter loved working with <b><span style="color: #783f04;">Cicely Berry</span></b> at the RSC on how textual meaning is carried in sound, rhythm and heartbeat as much as word definition. <b><span style="color: #783f04;">John Barton</span></b> taught her the art of putting across an argument and using speeches to shift the ground of your character and appeal to the other characters onstage and the audience. It’s remarkable that such a prestigious stage performer (and teacher, through her projects and writings) should also have such a range of film and TV work, including <b style="color: #783f04; font-style: italic;">Star Wars, Killing Eve, Talking Heads, Succession, The Crown, Belgravia, </b>and <b style="color: #783f04; font-style: italic;">Downton Abbey</b>. She concluded with insightful comments about the complexity of Helena in <b><i><span style="color: #783f04;">All’s Well That Ends Well</span></i></b> and gave an impromptu reading of Helena’s famous speech beginning</span></div><div><b><span style="color: #783f04; font-size: large;"><blockquote>Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie</blockquote></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xstyr266s6Y/YBWEPud1_ZI/AAAAAAAAEsM/rjYAudicHjklVZ-z2D9C-ZSeZfvBtH-twCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/4.%2BPatrick%2BStewart%2BHarriet%2BWalter.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xstyr266s6Y/YBWEPud1_ZI/AAAAAAAAEsM/rjYAudicHjklVZ-z2D9C-ZSeZfvBtH-twCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/4.%2BPatrick%2BStewart%2BHarriet%2BWalter.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patrick Stewart and Harriet Walter in various guises with appearances by Ian McKellen, Antony Sher, David Tennant and Jonathan Pryce</td></tr></tbody></table><b><span style="font-size: large;">Two Davids</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">David Suchet and David Tennant talks</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d2oSr4mnU-0/YBWE6P0iMQI/AAAAAAAAEsU/z3Zsetr4Xtodv7Kk46jddW1RKeuVDR3gQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/5.%2BDavid%2BSuchet%2BDavid%2BTennant.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d2oSr4mnU-0/YBWE6P0iMQI/AAAAAAAAEsU/z3Zsetr4Xtodv7Kk46jddW1RKeuVDR3gQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/5.%2BDavid%2BSuchet%2BDavid%2BTennant.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David Suchet and David Tennant with, among others, Judi Dench, Ben Kingsley, Catherine Tate and Alexandra Gilbreath</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8959546257766200980.post-16319568378597948462021-01-23T11:46:00.002+00:002021-01-23T11:47:45.632+00:00It was the Rainbow gave thee birth<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IDdYpsYLdEg/YAv_11OvsBI/AAAAAAAAEqw/KJVPWFEDeWkI0kjZbpvTemfJLPb9ygU2ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1.%2BBiden%2Bwin.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IDdYpsYLdEg/YAv_11OvsBI/AAAAAAAAEqw/KJVPWFEDeWkI0kjZbpvTemfJLPb9ygU2ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/1.%2BBiden%2Bwin.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Political change for the good of civilisation, skinny Prosecco, home-baked bread, cookies and parmesan biscuits - also good for civilisation!</td></tr></tbody></table><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: large;">Watching woods fill up with snow</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the past fortnight there has been “too much weather” – bright blue skies, dull dark skies, gales, rain bursts, floods, mud pools, mud slides and snow. </span><b style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #0b5394;">“It must be beautiful this time of year – all that snow!”</span></i></b><span style="font-size: medium;"> So, I here offer some images of the woods and meadow near me, blanketed in snow. I have posted before about <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2017/02/walling-in-and-walling-out.html" target="_blank">Robert Frost’s</a> famous poem about <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2019/11/the-woods-are-lovely-dark-and-deep.html" target="_blank">stopping by woods on a snowy evening</a>. This year, during Lockdown 3.0, there has been plenty of time to <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2020/05/lockdown-spring.html" target="_blank">stop and stare</a> </span><i><span style="color: #0b5394;">(copyright W H Davies)</span></i><span style="font-size: medium;"> at the lighting effects on the snowy crystals on the bare branches</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--R3rutgq77E/YAwB-2R8AYI/AAAAAAAAEq4/3k2EYwXGCdY7XFLxDk4Hy5EQWGb_08jaQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/2.%2BSnowscapes.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--R3rutgq77E/YAwB-2R8AYI/AAAAAAAAEq4/3k2EYwXGCdY7XFLxDk4Hy5EQWGb_08jaQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/2.%2BSnowscapes.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photos by Emily</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: large;"><i>I also love a quiet place</i></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">On one walk a miracle occurred: across a pond, above some reeds, a <b><span style="color: #0b5394;">blue streak</span></b> caught our eyes. We stood still, stared and waited. And there it was – one of my life ambitions fulfilled – a kingfisher in the wild. And, yes, it fished. And flapped. And bobbed its head. And perched. And stood. And streaked down into the pond again and back again to settle on its vantage point. It kingfished. And haunted. The last verb is inspired by Supertramp poet, W H Davies, who <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2020/05/lockdown-spring.html" target="_blank">I’ve mentioned</a> and <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2018/09/helmsley-to-rievaulx.html" target="_blank">quoted before</a>. His poem below about a kingfisher is one I learned in primary school and later used as a teacher with Year 7 classes because it efficiently illustrated the use of archaic vocabulary and syntax, repetition, half rhyme, alliteration, assonance, simile, metaphor, personification, onomatopoeia – and even more sophisticated poetic techniques – all in one lovely-sounding 18-line package.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4RyEjlz4J5E/YAwCxunB-2I/AAAAAAAAErA/4fJA1PuQoKQvZMioMgLFpLw2ouHFHsdegCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/3.%2BKingfisher.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4RyEjlz4J5E/YAwCxunB-2I/AAAAAAAAErA/4fJA1PuQoKQvZMioMgLFpLw2ouHFHsdegCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/3.%2BKingfisher.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><i>The Kingfisher</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">by W H Davies</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>It was the Rainbow gave thee birth,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>And left thee all her lovely hues;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>And, as her mother’s name was Tears,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>So runs it in my blood to choose</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>For haunts the lonely pools, and keep</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>In company with trees that weep.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Go you and, with such glorious hues,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Live with proud peacocks in green parks;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>On lawns as smooth as shining glass,</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Let every feather show its marks;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Get thee on boughs and clap thy wings</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Before the windows of proud kings.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Nay, lovely Bird, thou art not vain;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Thou hast no proud, ambitious mind;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>I also love a quiet place</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>That’s green, away from all mankind;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>A lonely pool, and let a tree</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Sigh with her bosom over me.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yyfmMJfrPIg/YAwKgQrwloI/AAAAAAAAErI/j1CiZUCiJxUr8PcNj3LeLyeIMMiwC-U0ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/4.%2BSnowscapes.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yyfmMJfrPIg/YAwKgQrwloI/AAAAAAAAErI/j1CiZUCiJxUr8PcNj3LeLyeIMMiwC-U0ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/4.%2BSnowscapes.png" width="640" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><i>What I do is me: for that I came</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On the day I saw the kingfisher I also thought of one of my obsessions – one of the most brilliant poets in the English language: a poet who led a fascinating life and wrought poems </span><i style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">like a Christ-loving-pagan blacksmith hammering golden swords whilst wrestling with fiery demons in the tattered and billowing cloud of God’s abundant, undulating duvet….</span></i><span style="font-family: arial;"> Yes, he’s a hyperbolic wordsmith, that Gerard Manley Hopkins – what a guy! Any road up, he wrote a sonnet about all things expressing their own selves, being themselves, expressing themselves </span><b><i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana;">(What I do is me: for that I came)</span></i></b><span style="font-family: arial;"> and although the second half of the sonnet gets profoundly religious, he starts with three ordinary sounds: a bell, a string on a musical instrument and a stone dropped down a well; as well as two startling sights: the flaming glimpse of a dragonfly and the fiery lick of a kingfisher.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WpkS3xi-GdY/YAwLKaujzwI/AAAAAAAAErQ/d0Na12luploavi_ndDg67UfgioU6Sx7xgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/5.%2BSnowscapes.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WpkS3xi-GdY/YAwLKaujzwI/AAAAAAAAErQ/d0Na12luploavi_ndDg67UfgioU6Sx7xgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/5.%2BSnowscapes.png" width="640" /></a></div></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: large;">Kingfisher, Dragonfly, Stone, String, Bell</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><b><i>As Kingfishers Catch Fire</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">by Gerard Manley Hopkins</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>As tumbled over rim in roundy wells</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Each mortal thing does one thing and the same….</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Each mortal thing does one thing and the same.</span></i></b> Snow falls. Kingfishers fish. Poets distil. <b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">What I do is me: for that I came….</span></i></b> We are, as people say, human <b><i>beings</i></b> not human <b><i>doings</i></b>…. So <a href="https://thereadinessisallletbe.blogspot.com/2018/09/helmsley-to-rievaulx.html" target="_blank">stopping, standing and staring</a> at snow on the bare branches of trees, or watching a kingfisher haunting a lonely pool, or pausing, breathing and resting – that kind of time-wasting is not time wasted. <b><i><span style="color: #0b5394;">The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.</span></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_bQSuxF7D_o/YAwL7VCGaFI/AAAAAAAAErY/M4lslZDa9Q4qjzGdl_RttJ8FA5gOGSYmwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/6.%2BFinale.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_bQSuxF7D_o/YAwL7VCGaFI/AAAAAAAAErY/M4lslZDa9Q4qjzGdl_RttJ8FA5gOGSYmwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/6.%2BFinale.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></i></b></span></div>Antony Johnsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13265404540397871203noreply@blogger.com0