The Seekers

Following on from my Song Lyric Sunday post  this week, I found this interview, from 2012, that I found to be particularly endearing. What a lovely lot these are. Not pretentious, not overbearing, just a nice group of friends. If you can spare 13 minutes, I think you will enjoy this.

 

Advertisements

Song Lyric Sunday Theme for 17/06/2018

img_1345-3Helen’s theme this week is seconds/minutes/hours.

Well, that gives plenty of scope. Practically every single artist will, at one time (see what I did there?) , have recorded a song with some time reference in it.

I am going with the very first thing that came to mind. That is “My grandfather’s clock.”

You can, if you wish, follow the words with the recording by Johnny Cash, which is here.

My Grandfather’s Clock

Song by Johnny Cash

My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf
So it stood ninety years on the floor
It was taller by half than the old man himself
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more

It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born
And was always his treasure and pride
But it stopped, short never to go again
When the old man died

Ninety years without slumbering
His life seconds numbering
It stopped, short never to go again
When the old man died

My grandfather said that of those he could hire
Not a servant so faithful he found
For it wasted no time and had but one desire
At the close of each week to be wound

And it kept in its place, not a frown upon its face
And its hands never hung by its side
But it stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died

It rang and alarmed in the dead of the night
An alarm that for years had been dumb
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight
That his hour for departure had come

Still the clock kept the time with a soft and muffled chime
As we silently stood by his side
But it stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died

Ninety years without slumbering
His life seconds numbering
It stopped short, never to go again
When the old man died

Songwriters: Erich Doll / Henry Clay Work

However, I also offer this instrumental version by Leroy Troy. I don’t think he gets out much, apart from performing his clawhammer style of banjo playing!

Sunday sayings #34

df5228ae03c590bc5da370d517137406.jpg

Life was oh so simple once, I knew its every whim,

but now it seems we need more rules, it’s getting really grim.

What became of common sense, fair play, and honesty?

We seem to have forgotten just how precious life can be!

 

The youngsters blame the older folk, the oldsters blame the young,

what became of tolerance, we’re all so highly strung?

We seem to analyse each move, and everything we do.

I used to understand my world but now I have no clue!

Life Lessons learned from a 2-year old

An interesting, and informative article from Daniel Rattner, via Bridget, The happy Quitter. If you head back to Daniel’s original post there are some interesting pictures of Ilya.

The happy Quitter!

Related image

I often babysit the neighbor’s kids or they babysit me -however you want to look at it and there is a lot I learned from watching babies, toddlers and yes, even teenagers.

I wondered if I am the only one who looks at it that way. Does not being a parent make me more of a pushover or perhaps more observant?

Yesterday, I found by accident an article that made me feel good and of course, I have to share my finding with all of you. Here you go:

To start, I’m not a parent. I opted into a commune-style Brooklyn home I found on Craigslist, and I live with a young couple and their two-year-old, Ilya.

I’ve now been living there for one year and I can confidently say it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Because in my time living with a kid, I’ve come to…

View original post 837 more words

PHEW – I MADE IT!

I once set about reading The Bible all the way through.  I made it! (although a lot of it was skipped through very swiftly, because some parts are boring {quite a lot}) I don’t take the Bible as gospel (see what I did there!), but it is a tremendous work by many people over many, many years.

One of the bits that many people could recount, although not verbatim, is the bit about reaching the age of 70, and guess what, I made it!

Psalm 90:10 King James Version

The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.

That inspired the following little offering of ageist poetry:

Well, I’m buggered

Whoever thought? Three score years and ten,

and maybe, then, another ten;

but no excitement for the morrow

for it’s bound to end in sorrow,

and even if you reach that stage

you’ll surely creak, and feel your age;

but don’t get too complacent mate,

your number’s up, it’s just too late.

So, make the most of every day

before you have to fly away!

 

I fully intend to make the most of every day, with a little help from my friends.

For those who don’t know the real lyrics here they are

Twittering Tale #64 – 26 December 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.watch-1267420_1280

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Photo by WildOne at Pixabay’s Creative Commons

 

 

He was a total fool. The last to admit it, but admit it he did!
One wish, she’d said.
He asked for it.
No hesitation.
Stupid!
“I wish time could go backwards, so I could be young again.”
The wish was granted.
Sadly he hadn’t stipulated a cut off point, and being unborn was not nice!

(279 characters)

Flowers in the Snow

A beautiful, evocative, glimpse of our ephemeral lives , linked to the image of transient flowers in the snow.

No Talent For Certainty

Just flowers in the snow;
Conceived to joy, and born to grow,
To lives that ever few will know
We live, we love, we come, we go,
Just flowers in the snow.

A boy was born to parents poor,
He always dreamed of flying;
With paper, and with balsa wood,
Surroundings bad but moments good,
To his long-dream applying:
His parents wanted something more
For him: to conquer and to soar,
And so they did whate’er they could
His wish solidifying.
And when, at last, he took the skies
His life, their love, shone in their eyes
That no one now remembers, long ago —

Just flowers in the snow;
Conceived to joy, and born to grow,
To lives that ever few will know
We live, we love, we come, we go,
Just flowers in the snow.

A girl grown old, with hair of white,
Once had a dream of…

View original post 129 more words