July 4, 2018

Margo, “That little voice“, has a few very pertinent questions for the American people on this, their Independence Day. The same questions apply to all countries, to all societies, to all peoples, and it is the people who must decide the answers. I do so hope that they get it right!

that little voice

July 4, 2018

Can I celebrate this day the way I have past Independence Days: without thought, concern, doubt, fear, disgust, or alarm?

The question plagues me as I watch the sun rise on this two hundred and forty-second birthday of the United States of America. On this day more than two centuries ago a group of men signed a paper declaring America would no longer be ruled by another nation. Our country would be independent of and from outside dominance. Henceforth we would determine our own fate, decide how we would be governed, guided by a Constitution that promised equality.

Not a perfect document, but one filled with hope, determination, and belief that individual voices can better chart the future of this new democracy, not one person.

So I wonder if we, the people of this fragile yet strong, and relatively new nation, can weather the storm of today’s internal…

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Sunday sayings #36

On the wedding day, yesterday, of TRH The Duke and Duchess of Sussex

Just because #2

This is a song by Frank Turner.  It has a beautiful tune and lyrics that I think are particularly relevant today.

I don’t think that we bloggers have any difficulty with trying to be more kind. I hope, and pray, that our leaders, and those in power who fail to lead, will take heed and act for the good of the world rather than for the few. I fear it may be a vain hope!

Be More Kind

History’s been leaning on me lately;
I can feel the future breathing down my neck
And all the things I thought were true
When I was young, and you were too
Turned out to be broken
And I don’t know what comes next

In a world that has decided
That it’s going to lose its mind
Be more kind, my friends, try to be more kind

They’ve started raising walls around the world now
Like hackles raised upon a cornered cat
On the borders, in our heads
Between things that can and can’t be said
We’ve stopped talking to each other
And there’s something wrong with that

So before you go out searching
Don’t decide what you will find
Be more kind, my friends, try to be more kind

You should know you’re not alone
And that trouble comes, and trouble goes
How this ends, no one knows
So hold on tight when the wind blows

The wind blew both of us to sand and sea
And where the dry land stands is hard to say
As the current drags us by the shore
We can no longer say for sure
Who’s drowning, or if they can be saved

But when you’re out there floundering

Like a lighthouse I will shine

Be more kind, my friends, try to be more kind

Like a beacon reaching out
To you and yours from me and mine
Be more kind, my friends, try to be more kind

In a world that has decided
That it’s going to lose its mind
Be more kind, my friends, try to be more kind

Songwriter: Frank Turner

I was so impressed on first hearing this that I went and purchased the album, the first music I’ve purchased in a very long time!

50 Yards of Florence;

Join John on his tour of 50 yards of Florence. It is beautiful, and totally missed by all the crocodiles of tourist groups

Broadsides - A collection of bits and pieces

The medieval lanes and streets and alleys provide welcome breaks of shade from the heat and the sun, and occasionally from the crocodile lines of tourist groups faithfully following their guides.  But you tire easily for you are not so young now, the back hurts a bit, the legs ache,  the sun is hot, you need to pause, to sit down, recover a little and you look for a pavement bar or café. But they can be intimidating these Italian bars and cafés,  and you pass that one and avoid this one and then you come across a rough looking bar in a little rough looking space, a small scruffy square; there is graffiti on the walls and a few battered tables and chairs clustered outside the very ordinary and un-prepossessing door of the bar “Mingo”  There is a van, and a motor cycle lazily  parked across the small square…

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Twittering Tales #78 – 3 April 2018

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.

I’ve been absent for a few weeks and have missed not taking part.

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

Meet me after the battle he said.

Just have to dash to Bosworth Field he said.

Then ZAP!…..I find myself transported in time to this deserted car park in Leicester.

The local paper says it is 2012. I left Richard in 1485. How can that be?

And just where is my Sovereign Liege?

(277 characters)

A Corkman dies on the Somme

John McGuiggan, on his site Broadsides, writes brilliantly on all sorts of matters. History, reviews, interesting tales about life in general, and his life in particular. Born into a military family, serving in the army, then transforming into a union organiser, he then somehow ended up as a barrister. He has tales to tell, funny ones, sad ones, reflective ones, but always interesting ones. Do read, and enjoy!

Broadsides - A collection of bits and pieces

The Pencil portrait of Private Christopher Coleman, from Cobh, County Cork, made by his wife.

The first week of September 1916 and the 16th Irish Division are engaged in the bloody advance across theSomme. At the village of Guillemont , men of the 7th Leinster Regiment manage to pass through the shattered village and secure and hold enemy trenches on the far side, but at terrible cost, losing some fifty percent of the soldiers engaged in the advance.  But in the bizarre ethics of war, it was a victory

Following the ‘victorious’ advance, non-combatant labour battalions are sent into the killing fields to clear up the mess left by the fighting soldiers. They clear away abandoned trenching tools, wire cutters, discarded equipment and bits and pieces of dead soldiers. It is gruesome and arduous work.

Among their number is an Englishman, Private George Wiles of the Royal Engineers. As…

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Song Lyric Sunday Theme for 04/02/18

Helen’s theme this week is “truth”.

I’ll just have a rummage in my bag of tunes to see what I can find. Hang on a bit! – just down in the bottom corner I can feel a very angry young man wriggling about and having a real rant about this, that, and the other.

He started to write this song in 1969, but it was not released until 1971 on his album, “Imagine”. It is, of course, written, and sung, by John Lennon, and is titled “Gimme Some Truth.” You can’t miss the unique sound of George Harrison on lead guitar and, to my ear, he seems to have “borrowed” some of the tune from other songs he performed, or, perhaps, he reused some of this tune in later works!

This song expresses frustration with deceptive politicians, with hypocrisy, and with chauvinism. That sentence is courtesy of Wikipedia, and it is worth following the link to read more on it to look at the background. The article explains some of the references in the song lyrics, and this may be particularly handy for those not around at the time the song was written.

Sad to say that not much has changed and it will be obvious why I have chosen this particular version.

The words, and song and artist facts can be found here, and are also shown below.

I’m sick and tired of hearing things from
Uptight short sided narrow minded hypocritics
All I want is the truth, just give me some truth
I’ve had enough of reading things
By neurotic psychotic pigheaded politicians
All I want is the truth, just give me some truth

No short-haired, yellow-bellied
Son of tricky dicky’s
Gonna mother hubbard soft soap me
With just a pocket full of hopes
Money for dope, money for rope

No short-haired, yellow-bellied,
Son of tricky dicky’s
Gonna mother hubbard soft soap me
With just a pocket full of hopes
Money for dope, money for rope

I’m sick to death of seeing things from
Tight-lipped condescending mama’s little chauvinists
All I want is the truth, just give me some truth
I’ve had enough of watching scenes from
Schizophrenic egocentric paranoiac primadonnas
All I want is the truth just give me some truth

No short-haired, yellow-bellied,
Son of tricky dicky’s
Gonna mother hubbard soft soap me
With just a pocket full of hopes
It’s money for dope, money for rope

I’m sick to death of hearing things from
Uptight short sided narrow minded hypocritics
All I want is the truth, just give me some truth
I’ve had enough of reading things
By neurotic psychotic pigheaded politicians
All I want is the truth, just give me some truth
All I want is the truth, just give me some truth
All I want is the truth, just give me some truth

Writer/s: JOHN WINSTON LENNON
Publisher: Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

Yay, Yay it’s Saturday…

The pet that poops breakfast has to be one of the best advertising slogans ever!

LadiesWhoLunchReviews,etc

Roosters and chicken running amok are still pretty prevalent on Kauai.  This is one of several that walk around our resort everyday, especially by the outdoor bar and grill, waiting for people to finish their meal.  And crowing.  Loudly.  At any time of the day.

From what I know, Hurricane Iniki decimated the island back in 1992 and that’s when the chickens and roosters’ coops and hen houses were destroyed; chickens having been originally brought over for food and roosters for cock fighting.  Now they are more feral than domesticated and if you’re not prepared for them running loose, it’s quite a sight and sound!  But I also understand they keep the island’s bug population way down.  I kind of enjoy them now and even have a rooster Christmas tree ornament from Kauai!

And here’s a little meme from Facebook that fits right in…

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And now for something completely different.

Did you even know that such a process existed?

Tobacco Smoke Enema Kit (1750s – 1810s).

The tobacco enema was used to infuse tobacco smoke into a patient’s rectum for various medical purposes, but primarily the resuscitation of drowning victims. The warmth of the smoke was thought to promote respiration.
Doubts about the credibility of tobacco enemas led to the popular phrase “blowing smoke up your ass.”

You are no doubt aware that this is still used by all levels of government.

Want to learn more? Click here.

 

 

 

We will remember them.

Still a week away from our annual services and parades for Poppy Day but I came across this post from last year and felt compelled to reblog it. I cannot watch it without copious tears but it really is the epitome of poetic Remembrance.

Peter's pondering

A poem in Yorkshire dialect. May be difficult for some to understand but it really is moving. Thanks to Yorkshire Prose.

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