Bringin It All Back For ME
From the UK I did bring back, as Customs eyes were wide, BRANSTON PICKLE and another BRANSTON with "small chunky bits".
Also in my bag I packed : -
a) My long missed Hume and Smollett "History of England" ( leather bound beauty of four volumes which I nearly sold in the Charing Cross Road - due to me missus saying that we were over-spending on our UK jolly jaunt).
b) Another BRANSTON PICKLE
c) A DVD for a fiver : " Life of Brian".
d) Smelly socks
e) A wonderful tee-shirt concerning Aszbo promotions
f) My discharge papers from the Royal Marines
g) My missing works from Karl Marx
h) More Branston Pickle
i) The signature of Orlando Bloomy-boomy ( for my youngest daughter you will of course understand).
j) Electric pictures from the Punch and Judy show on the beach at Southwold.
k) ......... and a few more odds and sods
Jesus... Am I really that normal?
Thank God I am saved.
I forgot to mention the other ten jars of BRANSTON PICKLE
Saturday, August 11, 2007
THIS IS NOT A PUBLIC TEXT but ....
Lord Somerleyton asks for help with his radical postmodern son ( soon to be the Lord imself). At 35 years of age still no fine woman to pin im down and re-create the pure pleasures of recreational pursuits. - this young eligable guy is in need. Father, who has been the Master of the Gee-Gees, seeks a stable companion for the airy-fairy-son.
Well LavenderBlue : I gave im your address although, with hindsight, I might have asked you first. Owever : job done.
To help you a little my LavenderB I can tell you that the soon-to-be Lord failed in his first big duty. He was to manage the pub on the estate ( Duke's Head). But at 35 years of age he has time on his side if he can find a "Woman on Top" to pin im down.
They have very nice gardens too.
Lord Somerleyton asks for help with his radical postmodern son ( soon to be the Lord imself). At 35 years of age still no fine woman to pin im down and re-create the pure pleasures of recreational pursuits. - this young eligable guy is in need. Father, who has been the Master of the Gee-Gees, seeks a stable companion for the airy-fairy-son.
Well LavenderBlue : I gave im your address although, with hindsight, I might have asked you first. Owever : job done.
To help you a little my LavenderB I can tell you that the soon-to-be Lord failed in his first big duty. He was to manage the pub on the estate ( Duke's Head). But at 35 years of age he has time on his side if he can find a "Woman on Top" to pin im down.
They have very nice gardens too.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
MUST BE GETTING EXCITED OR ...
Thinking to meself this morning as the crows rasped their rantings as they do. I grabbed at a few memories of a real community. Romantic I may be but I do hope that next week in the UK the early morning newsagent will greet me as I will visit each day around six. I hope he or she will know which newspapers I wish for. I hope to be able to say a good "Good Morning" with a world in a smile.
I hope that the pub(s) I will visit of an evening time will quickly get to know my drink and never keep asking me "what do you want old man".
But as Ivan Illich used to say so well it is better to live in hope than expectation.
I blame Tug Boat Anna and Trousers for all this reflection-like vanity but there you have it and there it is.
Thinking to meself this morning as the crows rasped their rantings as they do. I grabbed at a few memories of a real community. Romantic I may be but I do hope that next week in the UK the early morning newsagent will greet me as I will visit each day around six. I hope he or she will know which newspapers I wish for. I hope to be able to say a good "Good Morning" with a world in a smile.
I hope that the pub(s) I will visit of an evening time will quickly get to know my drink and never keep asking me "what do you want old man".
But as Ivan Illich used to say so well it is better to live in hope than expectation.
I blame Tug Boat Anna and Trousers for all this reflection-like vanity but there you have it and there it is.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
THE MORAL COMPASS AND SELECTED AWKS
As the BOY Scouts and GIRL Guides get famous again ( be-jesus those groups are older than our beloved Antipants) it came to me as a kind of Trouser-like dream.
Merkin as a Boy Scout : " Clean in thought, word and deed". ???? But along came Scout Leader Antirunt and set the Merkin to rights. Just imagine them both in short shorts.
LavenderBlue as a good Girl Guide : " Never say Yes to a Merkin type and never allow them into your tent", she says. She added : " Go painting and avoid those temptations of the flesh". ( Anna Mr joins the weekend book-reading group where the story was a question of - whatever happened to SuzyQ?)
Merkin returns : " I am turned and learned", he says, " Safe sex ok but please do not put a condom on me slide-rule".
Trousers goes off in a thoughtful mood. ( Did I miss out on something he asks himself in a private moment) - "Be thrifty" said the Scout Law, never get into debt.
JOIN THE SCOUTS YOUNG LAD says Antirunt.
Anyway what a wonderful British institution the Scouts and Guides movement.
As the BOY Scouts and GIRL Guides get famous again ( be-jesus those groups are older than our beloved Antipants) it came to me as a kind of Trouser-like dream.
Merkin as a Boy Scout : " Clean in thought, word and deed". ???? But along came Scout Leader Antirunt and set the Merkin to rights. Just imagine them both in short shorts.
LavenderBlue as a good Girl Guide : " Never say Yes to a Merkin type and never allow them into your tent", she says. She added : " Go painting and avoid those temptations of the flesh". ( Anna Mr joins the weekend book-reading group where the story was a question of - whatever happened to SuzyQ?)
Merkin returns : " I am turned and learned", he says, " Safe sex ok but please do not put a condom on me slide-rule".
Trousers goes off in a thoughtful mood. ( Did I miss out on something he asks himself in a private moment) - "Be thrifty" said the Scout Law, never get into debt.
JOIN THE SCOUTS YOUNG LAD says Antirunt.
Anyway what a wonderful British institution the Scouts and Guides movement.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
RITES-DE-PASSAGE
After slowly moving from pen and paper through to typewriter and then computer I began to ask myself just what were those "moving-moments" of change so that the official know-alls would bless me and then press me again for more.
But maybe such a "rites-de-passage" is no longer a happening in this brand new-world.
Anybody out there to help me understand the "rites-de-passage" events today.
After slowly moving from pen and paper through to typewriter and then computer I began to ask myself just what were those "moving-moments" of change so that the official know-alls would bless me and then press me again for more.
But maybe such a "rites-de-passage" is no longer a happening in this brand new-world.
Anybody out there to help me understand the "rites-de-passage" events today.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
EIGHT RANDOM FACTS FROM ZOLA
( I do this only once and only because I want to suck the web of Anna Mr who demanded this of me )
1. My grandmother had hair down to her hips although she usually wore it all up in a kind of big bun. The smell of my grandmothers bed remains with me today. I used to sleep there sometimes when my mother and father went dancing and the like. I would have been about 3 years old I guess. But the smell remains of her special warm bed.
2. As a five year old the Saturday morning was very special. With two friends of the same age I collected, between 8.00 and 11.00, any old iron, scrap, papers, rags and whatever from the local houses. The families expected us every Saturday and they were ready with the junk which we put on a two wheeled hand-held cart. Then we went to the scrap metal and ragman place to sell what we had collected. Just a fact that is strong in my memory. It was exciting and fun.
3. By 11 years of age my mother had learnt the right question to ask me when I came home from a school day. " How many times did you get caned today?", she would ask. Got caned once by a teacher and laughed because he tried to hit me so hard his glasses flew off and smashed on the floor. I had not laughed so much since one other nasty teacher had a heart attack.
4. By 17 years of age I was getting ok in the football and playing at a fairly high level but a goalkeeper ( damned great hunk of a fellow) kicked my leg to pieces. Six months in plaster cast. Got back to decent level football by about 21 but broke a leg again. The third broken leg was through climbing. Memory here was having the screws taken out after 8 months - as they unscrewed the screws and pins I felt no pain but I did feel the turns in the head. Weird I thought.
5. Oh yes I was made an honary member of the "Polar Bear Society".
6. Enjoyed canoes and kayaks. Even got a couple of Finnish medels and coached the Finnish youth team to silver medel at European Championships. Wonderful memories those. But also I remember kayaking around North Cape when a stone came down missing me by less than a metre. Some damned tourist wanted to trhow rocks down. But cannot complain I used to "trundle" ( throw rocks down mountains) quite often when I was active in the mountains.
7. As a kid I would often walk about 50 English miles on a weekend just for the fun of it and with a rucksack on me back. My mother had only one rule : be back by four on Sunday. That was the Suffolk coastline and countryside. The experience once with the daughter of the farmer ( I had asked to camp overnight on his land) remains in my memory as a vivid wonderful thing. Lust can be beautiful.
8. I was sent to Finland to work on a project in 1976. Never seemed to have lived in the UK after that although Sweden and Norway have been lived-in. Lapland, or the southern part of lapland, is my home. Our garden has many hedgehogs, squirrels, mousey-mousies for the cat, birds aplenty and for the first year I am trying to grow peas in the garden. But I do not like gardening, fishing or hunting so there......
( I do this only once and only because I want to suck the web of Anna Mr who demanded this of me )
1. My grandmother had hair down to her hips although she usually wore it all up in a kind of big bun. The smell of my grandmothers bed remains with me today. I used to sleep there sometimes when my mother and father went dancing and the like. I would have been about 3 years old I guess. But the smell remains of her special warm bed.
2. As a five year old the Saturday morning was very special. With two friends of the same age I collected, between 8.00 and 11.00, any old iron, scrap, papers, rags and whatever from the local houses. The families expected us every Saturday and they were ready with the junk which we put on a two wheeled hand-held cart. Then we went to the scrap metal and ragman place to sell what we had collected. Just a fact that is strong in my memory. It was exciting and fun.
3. By 11 years of age my mother had learnt the right question to ask me when I came home from a school day. " How many times did you get caned today?", she would ask. Got caned once by a teacher and laughed because he tried to hit me so hard his glasses flew off and smashed on the floor. I had not laughed so much since one other nasty teacher had a heart attack.
4. By 17 years of age I was getting ok in the football and playing at a fairly high level but a goalkeeper ( damned great hunk of a fellow) kicked my leg to pieces. Six months in plaster cast. Got back to decent level football by about 21 but broke a leg again. The third broken leg was through climbing. Memory here was having the screws taken out after 8 months - as they unscrewed the screws and pins I felt no pain but I did feel the turns in the head. Weird I thought.
5. Oh yes I was made an honary member of the "Polar Bear Society".
6. Enjoyed canoes and kayaks. Even got a couple of Finnish medels and coached the Finnish youth team to silver medel at European Championships. Wonderful memories those. But also I remember kayaking around North Cape when a stone came down missing me by less than a metre. Some damned tourist wanted to trhow rocks down. But cannot complain I used to "trundle" ( throw rocks down mountains) quite often when I was active in the mountains.
7. As a kid I would often walk about 50 English miles on a weekend just for the fun of it and with a rucksack on me back. My mother had only one rule : be back by four on Sunday. That was the Suffolk coastline and countryside. The experience once with the daughter of the farmer ( I had asked to camp overnight on his land) remains in my memory as a vivid wonderful thing. Lust can be beautiful.
8. I was sent to Finland to work on a project in 1976. Never seemed to have lived in the UK after that although Sweden and Norway have been lived-in. Lapland, or the southern part of lapland, is my home. Our garden has many hedgehogs, squirrels, mousey-mousies for the cat, birds aplenty and for the first year I am trying to grow peas in the garden. But I do not like gardening, fishing or hunting so there......
Friday, July 20, 2007
Bliar Welcomes Decision Not To Prosecute.
He would wouldn't he, said a source close to the deals.
He would, I guess, said a source already in prison.
Fuck me I would have welcomed that too said a criminal still on holiday.
Lord Lucan can return now to the mother of all democracies.
Sori to put you under so much stress Mr Blair. Really sori.
You prat!
He would wouldn't he, said a source close to the deals.
He would, I guess, said a source already in prison.
Fuck me I would have welcomed that too said a criminal still on holiday.
Lord Lucan can return now to the mother of all democracies.
Sori to put you under so much stress Mr Blair. Really sori.
You prat!
BITS AND PIECES
Vinegar Tits is losing it again as "Comment is F..." gently rebels against the hidden guardians of truth. Sori but I had to read through those posts. But something good came from it.
Simon Jenkins, no ranter and raver, wrote a good piece in support of the BBC. He was not really a Manchester Guardian type although he is learning, he is learning. Shame that Vinegar Tits has not even begun to learn.
Leeds United FC have angered their overpaid and brain-challenged footballers. No salary has been paid last month. The powers that be in UK football circles find this a very bad thing and say that these football players should not play a "friendly game" right now unless they get paid.
Leeds football players complain that they may not be able meet their financial obligations. Poor buggers!!! Are there are there any footballers left who can even connect with the real world?
Putin met Finnish President, Tarja Halonen, yesterday. It was clear that Putin was really laughing and joking, in happy ways, with her. Watch this space.
Vinegar Tits is losing it again as "Comment is F..." gently rebels against the hidden guardians of truth. Sori but I had to read through those posts. But something good came from it.
Simon Jenkins, no ranter and raver, wrote a good piece in support of the BBC. He was not really a Manchester Guardian type although he is learning, he is learning. Shame that Vinegar Tits has not even begun to learn.
Leeds United FC have angered their overpaid and brain-challenged footballers. No salary has been paid last month. The powers that be in UK football circles find this a very bad thing and say that these football players should not play a "friendly game" right now unless they get paid.
Leeds football players complain that they may not be able meet their financial obligations. Poor buggers!!! Are there are there any footballers left who can even connect with the real world?
Putin met Finnish President, Tarja Halonen, yesterday. It was clear that Putin was really laughing and joking, in happy ways, with her. Watch this space.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
RISING WATER
By Steve Bowles 1991 ( first published in "Canoeist Magazine")
Sometimes it is good to read again thoughts once written. This little piece I have just found from an old box where spiders lurk with my old texts.
RISING WATER
The North Wales water was high and the tell-tale boulder was covered as I looked down from the main A5 road. Welsh white water in flood. The big rock covered.
Stranded sheep. Sleeping wet rotton carcases were stuck between the dancing branches that jerked and hung beside the flowing river. The bodies were limp and sodden, dirty and ugly. Unnatural death is always ugly.
Small landslides and brown swirling water made warning sounds in the gorge and safe treetop birds chirped loudly on the leafless branches. Waiting river beneath.
Browns and oranges and the faded yellow covering of Autumn made the descent seem less step than it really was. Wet and slippery.
Kayak, sliding in front, down to the river. The waiting eddy was small with helpful hold-me-still stumps by the water-levelled riverbank. Cold feelings in the gorge.
The river was new. Rocks that normally were predictable in their place were now submerged, hidden, by the rain with spate. All was new and past knowledge meant little. No funrun.
Spraydeck on ; one handed and fidgety. Paddle pushing against the bank to get into the stream. Gliding over to the opposite bank S-style gave some sense of control and for sure gave a better chance of finding a better line down and around the soon-coming bends. Rapid rocks and drops.
The now-seen rocktops were soft and green. Waves formed themselves in new fashions and places, catching the unsuspecting nature by surprise as the stream gauged its way downwards through buckled up brances and laid down grasses.
As the hard rain falls so too the new found falls rain hard upon the brain. Pumping and puffing energy wasting itself in the tense-nerved feelings. I wished for company as the sharpest bend was turned while keeping one eye open for an eddy. I hit the rock. Tried to lean. Legs straining to turn the kayak downstream.
The water played its tricks like an arm wrestler at pub table games.
I couldn't let up but I couldn't beat the force. Strength... power....leaving me. Water constant. Slipping....down....fear....asleep.
Curtains closed and clock ticking away. I bumped my way ahead. The sound of water, bubbling and whirling in my ears. My eyes half open, my body weak.
What a night...I turned as the flushing toilet thudded its finishing programme. Slipped back into bed and tried to get back into my white-water world.
The sea was short-sharp waved and the cliffs were splattered by .........
( Steve Bowles Canoeist magazine, March, 1991 page 12)
Actually this was written in the early 1980s but who cares for that.
By Steve Bowles 1991 ( first published in "Canoeist Magazine")
Sometimes it is good to read again thoughts once written. This little piece I have just found from an old box where spiders lurk with my old texts.
RISING WATER
The North Wales water was high and the tell-tale boulder was covered as I looked down from the main A5 road. Welsh white water in flood. The big rock covered.
Stranded sheep. Sleeping wet rotton carcases were stuck between the dancing branches that jerked and hung beside the flowing river. The bodies were limp and sodden, dirty and ugly. Unnatural death is always ugly.
Small landslides and brown swirling water made warning sounds in the gorge and safe treetop birds chirped loudly on the leafless branches. Waiting river beneath.
Browns and oranges and the faded yellow covering of Autumn made the descent seem less step than it really was. Wet and slippery.
Kayak, sliding in front, down to the river. The waiting eddy was small with helpful hold-me-still stumps by the water-levelled riverbank. Cold feelings in the gorge.
The river was new. Rocks that normally were predictable in their place were now submerged, hidden, by the rain with spate. All was new and past knowledge meant little. No funrun.
Spraydeck on ; one handed and fidgety. Paddle pushing against the bank to get into the stream. Gliding over to the opposite bank S-style gave some sense of control and for sure gave a better chance of finding a better line down and around the soon-coming bends. Rapid rocks and drops.
The now-seen rocktops were soft and green. Waves formed themselves in new fashions and places, catching the unsuspecting nature by surprise as the stream gauged its way downwards through buckled up brances and laid down grasses.
As the hard rain falls so too the new found falls rain hard upon the brain. Pumping and puffing energy wasting itself in the tense-nerved feelings. I wished for company as the sharpest bend was turned while keeping one eye open for an eddy. I hit the rock. Tried to lean. Legs straining to turn the kayak downstream.
The water played its tricks like an arm wrestler at pub table games.
I couldn't let up but I couldn't beat the force. Strength... power....leaving me. Water constant. Slipping....down....fear....asleep.
Curtains closed and clock ticking away. I bumped my way ahead. The sound of water, bubbling and whirling in my ears. My eyes half open, my body weak.
What a night...I turned as the flushing toilet thudded its finishing programme. Slipped back into bed and tried to get back into my white-water world.
The sea was short-sharp waved and the cliffs were splattered by .........
( Steve Bowles Canoeist magazine, March, 1991 page 12)
Actually this was written in the early 1980s but who cares for that.
BOOKS AND WRITERS NEVER TO BE FORGOTTEN
Yesterday I picked up some words from Laurie Lee. Maybe a few remember him as a wonderful writer of poetry and prose. Anyway after struggling with a newspaper text concerning the round up of the news for the last week I felt in need of decent and good writing thoughts. I turned perchance to Laurie Lee.
Then damit his article called " The Village That Lost Its Children" sprang out at me. I was taken back to 1966 and that Aberfan tragedy.
The whole history of this political-economy where kids die young and the rich keep on going and going smacked me again and again.
Is it worth writing anything today when all has been said already?
Of course it is.
Yesterday I picked up some words from Laurie Lee. Maybe a few remember him as a wonderful writer of poetry and prose. Anyway after struggling with a newspaper text concerning the round up of the news for the last week I felt in need of decent and good writing thoughts. I turned perchance to Laurie Lee.
Then damit his article called " The Village That Lost Its Children" sprang out at me. I was taken back to 1966 and that Aberfan tragedy.
The whole history of this political-economy where kids die young and the rich keep on going and going smacked me again and again.
Is it worth writing anything today when all has been said already?
Of course it is.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
LATEST NEWS ANALYISUSUSUS...sus suck
Gawdi Brown, the Scot leader of a Southern England regime, calls for less cannabis habits in his area of social responsibility. At the same time we learn that Kenya ( was that ever a British responsibilty?) demands nappies for each and every donkey that walks. God bless the new moral code of that new labour government with a history. Nappies on globalised seagulls I say and especially upon global fat pigs that fly high on the backs of human being(s).
I wanted to say more but the rules here are as tight as an arse from a Catholic in the waiting rooms.
Gawdi Brown, the Scot leader of a Southern England regime, calls for less cannabis habits in his area of social responsibility. At the same time we learn that Kenya ( was that ever a British responsibilty?) demands nappies for each and every donkey that walks. God bless the new moral code of that new labour government with a history. Nappies on globalised seagulls I say and especially upon global fat pigs that fly high on the backs of human being(s).
I wanted to say more but the rules here are as tight as an arse from a Catholic in the waiting rooms.
A WONDERFUL VISIT, OLD FRIENDS TRAVEL BACK HOME AGAIN
Last night was a good night in word and deed.
Old time friends visited and stayed awhile.
Slept overnight peacefully.
Talked and chatted
Until the time was right to sleep.
Is it not nice to be home again
When you close your eyes
And really think again?
it's alright.
Such wonderful summertime blues from a small group
Back home
With an age
With ages
.........
Over 400
And still going strong.
Anyway we did the best we could do and that was just good enough.
Last night was a good night in word and deed.
Old time friends visited and stayed awhile.
Slept overnight peacefully.
Talked and chatted
Until the time was right to sleep.
Is it not nice to be home again
When you close your eyes
And really think again?
it's alright.
Such wonderful summertime blues from a small group
Back home
With an age
With ages
.........
Over 400
And still going strong.
Anyway we did the best we could do and that was just good enough.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
FRANS EEMIL SILLANPÄÄ : " MEEK HERITAGE " ?
Finland has only one Nobel Prize winner for Literature. Sillanpää.
He wrote about the ways that everyday folk got fooled and tricked by those that were in power stations and promotional game-plays.
What can be done?
Would the so-called Western "permission" be that which which is either Communism or Fascism deals?
Sillanpää, like Robert Frost, helped a poetic rationality to exist.
Elemental my dear.
Do we really have to fight again and again ?
Finland has only one Nobel Prize winner for Literature. Sillanpää.
He wrote about the ways that everyday folk got fooled and tricked by those that were in power stations and promotional game-plays.
What can be done?
Would the so-called Western "permission" be that which which is either Communism or Fascism deals?
Sillanpää, like Robert Frost, helped a poetic rationality to exist.
Elemental my dear.
Do we really have to fight again and again ?
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