Aren't you getting a little too old for this?
(My friend's comment when I told her that we had just got back from Greenbelt Festival.)
Too old for live music, stand-up comedy, poetry readings, talks and meeting (and listening) to interesting people?
If I'm ever too old for that, then shoot me!
The sun shone (sometimes.)
Pretty parasols.
Cake!
Outside, looking in.
Waiting.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
theme thursday - wheels
I drive a car. I like the security of having 4 wheels under me in constant contact with the road.
Bicycles scare me.
I tried to learn to ride when I was a child, but could never get the hang of the whole balance thing.
A brief attempt as an adult convinced me (very quickly) that I Am Not Designed To Ride A Bike.™
But I saw this one in Greenwich Village earlier this year.
And I thought it was cute.
Bicycles scare me.
I tried to learn to ride when I was a child, but could never get the hang of the whole balance thing.
A brief attempt as an adult convinced me (very quickly) that I Am Not Designed To Ride A Bike.™
But I saw this one in Greenwich Village earlier this year.
And I thought it was cute.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
wing
Theme Thursday: winged things or just wings ...
angel on Mull
dragon in Ghent, Belgium
young herring gull on the shore in Oban, Scotland
Children's voices in the orchard
Between the blossom- and the fruit-time:
Golden head, crimson head,
Between the green tip and the root.
Black wing, brown wing, hover over;
Twenty years and the spring is over;
To-day grieves and to-morrow grieves,
Cover me over, light-in-leaves;
Golden head, black wing,
Cling, swing,
Spring, sing,
Swing up into the apple-tree.
New Hampshire by T S Eliot
chaffinches on the Isle of Mull, Scotland
angel on Mull
dragon in Ghent, Belgium
young herring gull on the shore in Oban, Scotland
Children's voices in the orchard
Between the blossom- and the fruit-time:
Golden head, crimson head,
Between the green tip and the root.
Black wing, brown wing, hover over;
Twenty years and the spring is over;
To-day grieves and to-morrow grieves,
Cover me over, light-in-leaves;
Golden head, black wing,
Cling, swing,
Spring, sing,
Swing up into the apple-tree.
New Hampshire by T S Eliot
chaffinches on the Isle of Mull, Scotland
Friday, August 15, 2008
DON'T
Hmmm.
How about being a little less negative?
Please put your litter in the bin. Keep the park looking pretty for others to enjoy.
Keep your dog on a leash when you're not in the Dog Run. He might jump up at an old lady or frighten a little child. (He might chase those pesky squirrels and pigeons too!)
Enjoy your music. But keep the volume within reasonable limits. Not everyone likes Hip Hop.
Or Opera.
Get drunk or stoned somewhere more private than this. Drunks are very boring. And vomit is not cool.
It's a small park. Sorry, but there's not enough room here for cycles and skateboards. Could you find a bigger space to use them?
But above all, this is your park. So, relax.
And enjoy.
Any more suggestions?
Thursday, August 14, 2008
hair
I quite like my hair. Especially now that it's going grey.
I wish I had 'better' eyebrows and eyelashes (both are fine, sparse and blonde) but I guess none of us is perfect!
My younger daughter is blonde.
This is her now ...
Of course my other daughter, a natural brunette, is currently blonde.
Of course.
One of these photographers was trying out a new hair colour (very cool.)
The other has a cute hat.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
waiting
My cats were waiting to be fed. They just sat there, patiently. Knowing I would get around to feeding them at some point.
It made me think of the amount of time I spend waiting for things: waiting to pay at the checkout; waiting for a delivery; for test results; waiting for the kettle to boil.
And not always patiently.
The Devlins wrote a really cool song about waiting and my friend, Matthew, put together a really cool vid to go with it.
Enjoy
Friday, August 8, 2008
steps
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Sunday, August 3, 2008
rose
Last year, after my mother died, just before the house was sold, I took a rose from her garden.
Always a keen and gifted gardener she would gently chide me for my complete lack of 'green fingers'.
Even a pot plant wasn't safe with me.
Still, I wanted the rose.
So we dug it out of the well-nourished soil and put it in the cold clay of our garden.
It went very limp and looked sad (just like me!)
And then it bloomed.
And this year it bloomed again.
Always a keen and gifted gardener she would gently chide me for my complete lack of 'green fingers'.
Even a pot plant wasn't safe with me.
Still, I wanted the rose.
So we dug it out of the well-nourished soil and put it in the cold clay of our garden.
It went very limp and looked sad (just like me!)
And then it bloomed.
And this year it bloomed again.
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