DEATH IN OUR GROUNDS

Dramatic words! But nevertheless true, this winter has decimated our struggling trees--they gave up the ghost and came crashing down! Not one or two , but five huge trees shattering their branches as they fell.

The trees appeared to be healthy.......

What caused this devastation?

There have been no particularly strong winds here in mid-France ;

We had to call the local farmer in to help......

Who cut them up for us....

and stacked them neatly......

One or two trees have also been struck badly with the beetle....

Look closer! It's horrendous isn't it!

The farmer will cutting this down this week!

Anyone else having the same problems?

SEALS, SYNCHRONIZING, & SUPPER

Please forgive the aliteration, I couldn't resist it!

I am posting a few photos to lighten up the end of my week! it's been a funny week for me-- I joined Twitter and couldn't get the hang or point of it, also couldn't load my photo, then pressed the wrong button and I am now left with a default 'blank' in place of a photo, and a new name of " the mystery woman"? not my choice so have no Idea why they are calling me that. My heart doesn't seem to be in anything this week, I had better buck up as its my Birthday soon! AHA! Perhaps that's it!! I just dont want to be a year older -help! So here we go with the photos all taken whilst I was on holiday in Spain a few years ago....

First one -- the seals....................... and loving

Aren't they gorgeous...

The second on is of a group of synchronizing swimmers with dolphins, it was an amazing show to watch...

I KNOW! It's not the best of photos-- the girls are the circle of pink things! Nobody said this was going to be a professional shot! You have to use your imagination.

The final photo is the ' piece de resistance'----The Last Supper!!! ( on the beach- amazing)

Great job, Sandman!

Well that's it folks! Hope it did it for you :)

ALEX and UNEMPLOYMENT

Looking through my late husbands' work I came across the following poem, written by him and dated November 8th. 1971. In this current recession it seems apt to post it today. He wrote it at the time he had left the BBC- where he had worked for many years- to take over the running of our household of four children whilst I persued my career. I guess we were one of the early 'role-reversal' couples! It would appear on this particular day, he wasn't too happy about the situation! However I am happy to to say that it did work and very successfully up until 1983 when we both went into business together..... So here it is.....

CELL

I sit unemployed in redundant Autumn

listening

to the wind

cutting its first Winter teeth

through the grass and my uncombed hair.

The imprisoned day

watches

the distinction it makes

between light and shade,

like the idiotic sun

drawing its inevitable circles in the air.

The day is a shorter one than yesterday,

perhaps, tomorrow

the sun will lose its way.

by Alex, copyright '71

SEA VIEWS

SEAS.

Bare feet on the sand.

Cold sea-water,

white shanks belching

out of the slick havoc,

confides over them noisily,

the tide's breath

and twists of water

stepping from the sea.

Staring out of the world.

The deep, audacious sky

stays put

where someone outside

drew a line around the world.

Its cold edges trickle over my mind,

in a moment of immense time,

embracing me with false colour,

and depth boasting its loud head off.

Then the water breaks its spine.

And I watch it

slide back

breathlessly into the sea's gullet.

Poem by Alex: October 1971 Copyright

FINGERS ON THE GLASS

Window-pane

with traces of moisture,spirals

of each finger's tip

pressed firmly, leaning, against

the transparent division

Separating;

inside from outside,

warmth from cold,

sound from sound,

opulence from poverty,

You and I.

Though we may see each other,

only the sun crosses between us, blindly

penetrating the partition

and revealing, for a moment, my reflection

against the sky;

our eyes, together.

Place your hands on mine

and we touch different sides

of the same witness

to our cool familiarity.

Close your eyes, easily.

Nothing,

just fingers on the glass.

Poem by Alex- copyright

POEM FOR A BIRTHDAY

It was my daughter's birthday yesterday, so this is for her and for everybody's birthday at this time. It was written by my late husband for when she and her sisters were little!

BUILDING A BIRTHDAY

My wife draws a breath.

Carefully she explains

the architecture of her frivolous cake,

a large one,

with fruit, and icing

white as brides, calmly wading over the top.

She has buns planned.

Home-made.

Sandwiches cut to budget size

and filled with luncheon meat,

cheese, meat paste and supermarket jam.

Jellies figure prominently,

what's a party without a jelly?

My daughter will receive her friends

in the giant shadow of her Mother.

It's her ninth birthday.

The foundations are laid.

By tomorrow evening

the house will have been eaten.

Poem by Alex-1971 copyright.