Happy Birthday Sally Dog !

Good Morning Dear Friends!

And what an absolutely special morning it is; for it was a mere seven years ago today, in amongst a litter of big burly chaps that the small bundle of weeness who was to become The Famous Sally Dog saw the world for the very first time; five short weeks later she came to live with Yours Truly and has hardly left my side for a single day since!  In terms of birthday celebrations - and in line with her mature and sedate years - plans are mainly based around lying on the sofa, snoozing and eating treats, especially since the weather which has been so beautifully hot of late has taken a turn to the damp ready for the diamond weekend ahead . . . oh hum! Anyhow, I hope you all have got your birthday cards in the post for Sal to rip up as the postman delivers them, if not I will happily accept financial donations on her behalf . . . no? Oh well, it was worth a try!

Today being a Thursday should be tea and cake with Sister Cate but I am involved in a wonderful World Food Day hosted by Shirley from Food Positive, a simply scrumptious organisation based just underneath us in Ashland House; I am evidently due to be overseeing the production of fried rice -  outside - in a car park -  in the rain . . . Hmmm . . . wonder what kind of cake Cate wants today? No, I shall be brave and don my waterproof Cheffing outfit and shortly, courtesy of the lovely reflexes and aromas of Vikki - not to mention her vehicle - be on my way rain-wokking, hence the brevity of today's post.  I shall hopefully manage to scribble more upon my return but need now to go and beautify.

Hope you have a wonderful day wherever you may be; please telethink you birthday wishes to my most lovely canine companion and spare at least one thought for me as I attempt to become a sort of Jacques Cous-Cousteau 

'til next time

Be Seeing You!

ॐ

Loving The Questions

Good Morning Dear Friends!

I'm so glad you popped in; please do help yourself to tea and toast (there's even a splodge of Orange and Ginger marmalade if you so desire) and we'll pass a wee while in conversation . . . 

It was while wondering around the Parish Church Gardens photographically represented here  - but sadly, for this morning at least, bathed in a veil of low cloud and drizzle -  and listening to some music-based quantum physics - for such things do exist - that I came up with the idea for today's conversation piece.

I better elaborate: There's a project of which I am very fond and which I have mentioned here before.  It's called The Symphony of Science and is basically a fantastically innovative way of spreading scientific ideas to members of the non-scientific community via music.  Clips from programs and films are taken and edited together to make lyrics and the voices treated with synthesis so that the people appearing in the clips - from Stephen Hawking and Brian Cox to Alice Roberts and Carl Sagan - appear to sing.

Anyhow, there I was, strolling and pondering about life, death and the Universe with Sal Dog (though, to be fair, I think she was more interested in sniffing actually) and listening to a song called Onward To The Edge which is ostensibly about space travel, the chorus of which is:

"Onward to the edge
We're moving onward to the edge
Here we are together;
This fragile little world"

and it occurred to me that, like a lot of the concepts about the universe,  it could be taken as a metaphor for our journey through life here on Earth . . . after all we are all made of the universe, the elements that make up our bodies come from the Big Bang and the particles that make up our bodies are a sort of universe; one might even fantasise that the universe we catch the tiniest glimpse of in the night sky could simply be the particles of some other body! 


The overarching feeling I got from the song though was one that occurs to me a lot; the story of the Universe, how it was formed, how it will die is the same story as the story of our life and death.  As Richard Dawkins says in one of the songs Our Place In The Cosmos:

Matter flows from place to place
And momentarily comes together to be you
Some people find that thought disturbing
I find the reality thrilling

So all this matter and energy comes together and for a short period of time we exist; it then changes and we cease to exist, we die; but as energy cannot be created or destroyed only transformed, we never really die which I too find, thrilling! At the end of Onward To The Edge, astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson says:

When I reach to the edge of the universe
I do so knowing that along some paths of cosmic discovery
There are times when, at least for now,
One must be content to love the questions themselves

and that is exactly my view of our journey though life; it is the journey itself that is the reward and no matter how many answers you seek maybe sometimes we just have to be content with loving the questions.

I suppose such questions concerning our mortality have been brought even more to the forefront than usual by a series of meetings with the lovely folk at the Me2You Bereavement and Loss Charity this week. It seems that they are keen to work with our organisation and we are truly madly deeply wishing to be involved with the stunning work they do and so a passionate partnership has been formed.  Should you want to find out more about their work or even pass on a few hard-earned pennies you can click on their name and be whisked magically away to their website - please do visit; they are totally self-funded and the work they do is remarkable and so desperately needed.

But look, how remiss of me! I haven't wished you a Happy 17th May! Now why, I hear you ask, would he wish to do that? Well, because today is Norwegian Independence Day and an occasion for much frolicking and fun . . . at least it should be, though with the shadow of the Utøya massacre in July last year and the current trial of the perpetrator hanging over the whole country, it's hard to imagine there will be much celebration.  However, I have been very proud of the people of Norway's attitude; they were intent that life should carry on and that security paranoia be kept to a minimum which, to me, seems very typically Norwegian. I remember when I lived there in the 1980s it was rumoured that the old king Olav Vth could often be found pottering about in the supermarkets and shops in KarlJohansgate, just down the road from the Royal Palace - lovely!

It's also time for me to be about my business and, as a meeting with Sister Cate looms, that business is with cake!  I hope this lot of blather made some kind of sense and that your day is filled with love and swamped with memories of those who have touched and continue to touch your life.

'til next time

Be Seeing You !

ॐ

Alice Pleasance Liddell

4 May 1852 – 16 November 1934

A boat beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July--

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear--

Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die.
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream--
Lingering in the golden gleam--
Life, what is it but a dream?

Lewis Carroll 1871

ॐ

Everything's Got A Moral, If Only You Can Find It!

Good Morning Dear Friends!

Welcome, once again, to a somewhat sun-bedecked study on this Thursday morning. Although marginally later than originally planned, I am up and about in order to cast my vote at the local elections - I always feel it behoves one to do so especially when people in other cultures and countries risk their lives in order to be able to do so freely . . . anyhow, this somewhat mundane and very much taken for granted task will also encompass Sal's matutinal micturating meander and a quick call in to see my two favourite purveyors of Tea and Retail Therapy in order to pick up the second five volume load of Arthur Mees's Children's Encyclopedia; I somehow managed the first five yesterday with only a light dusting of damage to my skeleto-muscular system and the Famous Sally Dog is, as you can imagine, always mysteriously busily engaged in tree-sniffing when called upon to help . . . 

So what is the connection - you may ask, and I'm sure you do - between Arthur Mee's ancient, weighty and paper-based version of the internet and the somewhat faded but nonetheless beautiful collodion print above? Well, for one thing, they both featured quite strikingly in my childhood but it has to be said that the major reason for the inclusion of this photograph is that tomorrow, Friday 4th May 2012, will be the 160th birthday of this rather fragile creature . . . it is, of course, the wee girl who would become Mrs Reginald Hargreaves in later years but who began her life -  and was in mine from practically the start - as Alice Pleasance Liddell.  Those of you poor souls who have suffered my scribblings for a time or two will know the enormous impact this little ghost has had  (and continues to have) on my life and will, I'm sure, join with me in wishing her a very Happiest of Birthdays - wherever she may be.

Apologies are due for my absence at the start of the month; I'm not sure how you managed to get through this event without my usual cheery greeting of "White Rabbits x 3" but hopefully you did - otherwise I am talking to myself; a practice not without merits as often the listener does understand, for a change, what the orator is blathering on about but sadly one frowned upon in polite society - unless one takes the precaution of wearing headphones (which need not be connected to any device) when it seems it is permissible to speak loudly and gesticulate wildly wherever one may be . . . anyhow, I'd like to take this opportunity to wish you a somewhat belated but heart-felt May Day and, to my pagan friends, a blessed Beltain . . .  Oh fie! Tempus Fugit and I must away . . . I shall see you after a short chronistic corridor otherwise known as a passage of time . . .

And, indeed, at the end of that particular ginnel is where you find me now! Some ten hours later and the day is descending into gloaming and I am back in the study finishing off todays mantlepiece.  Things today went more or less according to plan; the voting was accomplished sadly without passion as it is always a case of the lesser of evils - why are there no Green candidates in the Wigwam? - Sal Dog walked, wagged and widdled to her hearts content and Sister Cate was met and, following hugs and chats with the lovely Sharon, Maîtresse D at Costa, cake was indeed consumed.  So, all in all, quite a satisfactory day - not that one would be able to ascertain such facts by viewing the above mug shot of Yours Truly; it is a sort of Serious Author shot ( or deserves to be!)  and - if the phisog is ignored - quite pleasing artistically!

So as curfew tolls the knell of parting day I shall leave you to enjoy your evening in peace; please try to remember that tomorrow is dear Alice's anniversary as well as being Star Wars Day - a wee ʞǝǝƃ Ô reference there* - and I hope that the ensuing Bank Holiday finds you relaxed and well, with sunshine and love flooding your hours!


'til next time


Be Seeing You !




ॐ




* wee ʞǝǝƃ Ô A trademark for very trendy things I've just invented! 

The Most Beautiful Thing Is ...

Good Evening Dear Friends!

Here we are in the study at Myrtle House once more as day slips into eve and I thought I'd share this picture of my new friend with you; her name is, appropriately enough, Joy and she is the embodiment, I hope, of an upward swing in my emotional state in comparison to the last few weeks . . . Our meeting coincided with yet more not-very-good news which was the final event in a whole series of if anything could go wrongs and after clapping eyes on her I thought rather than simply give up, it was time to maybe fight back a little!

It's been a funny old day really; one thing has lead to another and some surprisingly lovely outcomes have occurred. The day began with an unexpected text from a sweet neighbour asking me to please put her bin out as she had lost the key to the gate which protects our somewhat overgrown communal cobblestone area from the strife of everyday life. It was a little after six-thirty and I was, as is usual at this hour, a little befuddled; surely it wasn't Wednesday already? It wasn't and my apologetic neighbour conceded as much but, after discharging my bin laden duties,  I decided to take the bull by the horns (sorry Joy!) and start work on the dreaded website design for the new practice . . . this went surprisingly well and a little work in progress now graces the ether for all to see.

In between such technicalities I was, of course, keeping a weather-eye on my twitter and saw the offer of a free download of an e-book and, not being one to refuse anything for free, I went and clicked the link which, unfortunately didn't appear to work. I tried it three times without success and then sent a tweet to the author Fiona Robyn who very sweetly explained it was an issue with the release time and I should try again later. I did and got it - along with an invoice from Amazon for the three times I'd tried to downloaded it but that was quickly sorted.  Anyhow, the point I'm trying to get around to in my bumbling way is that Fiona shares a certain commonality with Yours Truly in that she is a writer and a psychotherapist and succeeds in doing what I am trying to set up in the new venture . . . and so I have joined her community which is aptly named Writing Our Way Home, and hope that this leads onto a sharing of many good and beautiful things.  By the way, the free offer ends at some point tomorrow I believe - you can check it out by clicking on Fiona's name above. The only down side of all this positivity is that I've been so fired up and keen to create I haven't had time to but skim the book; I intend to give it serious consideration later this eve.

I can feel the call of a cup of tea tugging at my heartstrings,  if such a thing is anatomically possible or merely a mixing of metaphors in response to that muse of Morpheus, so in any case I shall finish up here and hie my way down the Eiger face of the staircase to the kitchen where, I suspect, a cup of the steamy stuff may be had with even, perchance, a chocolate biscuit or three; the diet will begin . . . soonishly.

I hope the rest of your evening is a joy to behold - especially if you too have a gaudily painted bovine - and that tomorrow is bursting with happiness from the moment your eyes open.  I know that in the Wigwam the weather is supposed to be dreadful tomorrow and, I suspect, the same is to be said for most of the country, so please ensure you take my love with you to act as an umbrella.

'til next time

Be Seeing You! 

ॐ

The Beauty of the World has Two Edges *

Good Morning Dear Friends!

Welcome to a sunny Saturday morning with a so far cloudless blue sky painted on the windows of the study at Myrtle House and Yours Truly in a somewhat wistful mood . . . I woke this morning and thought "Why is everything so complicated?" that was it - my very first thought. Now, I must admit that I have spent many nights recently trekking in the dark, midnight woods, looking for that evasive and elusive shade called sleep; and a flare up of old physical issues means I'm walking quite a lot like a question mark which isn't exactly helping my state of mind but I was a little perturbed that my first conscious thought should be that . . .

Then, after some consideration and deliberation, I asked myself the question again; why does everything have to be so complicated? And the answer is, of course, that it doesn't . . . as Thoreau wrote in Walden which first saw the light of day in 1854: 

"Our life is frittered away by detail... Simplify, simplify, simplify! ... Simplicity of life and elevation of purpose". 

I suppose it would be easy to say glibly "Ah well, that was then, this is now - life was a lot simpler then" and I expect that, to a degree, it is true; and you have to take into account that the book is an account of two years he spent living in a cabin by Walden Pond in woodland near Concord, Massachusetts experimenting with self-sufficiency and he was only able to do that because his friend and mentor Emerson footed the bill, as it were but, nonetheless (how I love that word) I think we could do worse than consider his advice when weighing up the direction our life is taking.

By 'our' life I do, of course, really mean mine.  I think it is a modern day myth and cause of much sadness to me personally that, in order to live the simple life, it seems one must wade through a sea of complicatedness first - any one who has tried to set up a 'simple' wireless network in their home knows this first hand - but I think it is because we all of us see the world as a complicated place and so make our lives more complicated than strictly necessary in order to fit in. We are so aware of,  and so able to respond to, the many connections that exist that we feel somehow bound and obliged to do so; I am never further than a foot away from my iPhone and its stunning array of apps to help me organise my life and communicate with people and consider their connections and . . . well, it all gets so complicated, doesn't it!

And so the morning slips on and I contemplate such concepts as, among others,  the delayed gratification that seemed so prevalent in my childhood but which now no longer seems to exist; having said that I recognise that I am just as guilty of wanting things now rather than later although I could excuse this as an example of my buddhist (with a very small b) lifestyle where I live purely in the now, but I feel that would be cheating ever so slightly, especially as I know that the things in themselves aren't the answer.  We do use them to fill the gaps and chasms that exist in our lives; the gratification doesn't last however and the hunger returns with a vengeance  . . . 

I recall a fantastic line from the wonderfully charming and feel-good film The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel - a film which I wholeheartedly recommend to anyone, by the way, despite some shoddy reviews - in which a very curmudgeonly Maggie Smith is told that she may have to wait six months for a medical procedure and responds with "Six months? I can't wait six months! At my time of life I don't even buy green bananas!" which resonates so deeply with Yours Truly that it could almost be mistaken for ultrasound! 

So, given that a level of complicatedness has to exist at least momentarily, what does the week ahead hold in store? Well, on the professional side of things, furniture has been moved into the new premises and titivation needs now to occur - along with the procurement of stuff like desks and chairs as we have tripled our space but not our furniture - and then, once all that's been done, and bids written, and surveys undertaken, and workshops designed and fun events co-ordinated . . . Hmmm; maybe I should just sit here in my study and write? Ah, but were it possible! Sadly, unless some money rolls in this particular "Room of One's Own" won't be one's own for much longer and so the necessary evils once again take precedent and with noses to the grindstone and shoulders to the wheel it's no wonder my back is so bad  . . . why is life so complicated?

I hope your weekend is simply wonderful and wonderfully simple; like me, the youthful morning's blue sky is slowly greying and so I'd take an umbrella just in case but have fun whatever you do and - since April showers bring forth May flowers - I think we can all look forward to a blooming lovely Spring! 

'til next time

Be Seeing You !

ॐ

*The beauty of the world has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder ~ Virginia Woolf

Let Us Always Meet Each Other With Smiles *

Good Morning My Dear Friends!

And so, it seems, it is Easter Sunday; all over the country people are celebrating the major event in the religious calendar of the most popular faith by eating chocolate for breakfast . . . being of buddhist (with a small b) leaning I am doing no such thing, although a bar of organic plain may get a bashing later on in the proceedings . . . So welcome, friends; make yourself at home and I'll see about rustling a spot of tea and toast for breakfast . . .

I hope you like the pic on todays offering; it is a print made by the very talented Seb West who is based at Towednack, on the outskirts of St Ives. Seb is one of the artists whose work I used to lust after when I visited the town I considered to be my spiritual second home; to my eternal shame and regret I never got to buy any of his work although, should Dame Fortune ever give me a second glance - much less smile on me -  that is a situation I would gladly rectify. By the way, I hope you will have noticed that I have recently started linking the people I mention in this blog to their websites by hyperlinks; this is a way of giving you a chance to learn more about them and also paying them back for their kindnesses to me whether known or unknown . . . so if you could click on the link - as in Seb's above - I would appreciate it. Talking of spiritual homes, another place that always felt that way to me and is similarly different is Deya, a wonderful village in the north of Mallorca that I visited once and with which I fell in love; my friend the poet and musician Daevid Allen lived there, next door to author Robert Graves and other authors and painters of note . . . an amazing collection of talents in that one small place.

So what plans are afoot today? Hmmm, a very good question; I should do some writing and possibly some reading - Virginia is tugging at my conscience and I have a book of short stories by Ian Rankin to review - not to mention my dear old K9 DomQuad currently snoring at the side of the desk  who will at some point wish to venture afield despite the predictably awful weather . . . but I have an urge simply to curl up and watch an old film, maybe Rebecca, with the lovely Joan Fontaine (see above) . . . she is in the film btw, not curled upon the sofa with Yours Truly! 

One aspect of the film that intrigues me is the fact that we never learn her character's name; we know that her husband is the wealthy and eligible Max De Winter, played with icy disdain by Laurence Olivier; and the name of his first wife, the eponymous Rebecca (who remains unseen) and even the exceptionally creepy housekeeper Mrs Danvers - played superbly by the fabulous Dame Judith Anderson - but Joan's character is only ever referred to as Mrs DeWinter, my dear etc.  She and Max meet when she is acting as companion to an annoying american woman named Edythe Van Hopper (Florence Bates) and accompanying her around the Riviera.  Mrs Van Hopper - a social climber - fauns to Max saying that "Most girls would give their eyes for a chance to See Monte [Carlo]" to which Max replies "Wouldn't that rather defeat the object?"  Lovely stuff! 

Anyhow, we shall see; plans are, like the dominant weather system, mainly fluid and subject to change without advanced warning! I can't see me being whisked away for unknown treats and delights which would, of course, be rather fun; so a quiet and secluded day seems on the books . . . which is fine because, after all, you can always pop in and visit whenever you choose. I suppose I could even get around to updating the long-neglected Myrtle House blog although that does seem a rather energetic and somewhat radical move - we shall see how the day progresses.

And with that thought I shall leave you to your Easter; I hope you enjoy the day and the Bank Holiday to follow and that love hops after you and multiplies like bunnies do

'til next time

Be Seeing You !

ॐ

* Let us always meet each other with smiles; for the smile is the beginning of love ~ Mother Theresa