thoughts about life from beyond the grave

YOU COULD BE MISSED

2010-03-03T18:31:00.006+01:00

YOU COULD BE MISSED

You could be missed.

Afterwards, she will speak

more than these centuries

of wedlock and its silence,

but you won't hear.

The words will come slow

at first,through her eyes bleeding,

resonantly, like dull hammers

where your eardrum should be;

you won't hear, I promise.

But she will speak, repeatedly,

will try to explain, forgive.

The time could come when

she will answer all her own

questions about love and things.

And, if she's honest,

you will be deeply missed.

But you shall never know.

by my late husband. Alex-- May 1972

THE CHILD

2010-01-23T10:29:00.005+01:00

I see the child

in the garden, her head

filled with the wind,

and her eyes in the summer of children

bright as the sun;

I hear her laugh

in the garden, her mind

swallowed in dreams,

and her mouth in the learning of children

full of the sun.

I watch her dance

in the garden, her face

determined and lent,

and her limbs like the gallows of children

crossed in the sun

I love the child

in the garden, a voice

that I once knew,

and remember the growing of children

lost in the sun.

by my late husband ALEX written in the 70's

ALONE by Alex

2009-11-03T18:32:00.003+01:00

We stand together where the earth
finds us, fairly close, could be
our fingers touch; two stones mating

and it's cold, instantly breakable.

I can't blow your blood
round if it stops,
we can only pretend. You should
be told there is a limit to this
heartbeat and looking like
the same piece of machinery;
that someone else will disconnect
the necessary organs, break off
the productive flow; that one half of us is
daubed with different time.
You should be told.

or perhaps you already know
and the craft today is how
you blindfold your tomorrow.

Maybe you see how separate we are,
even when our breath feels now
like one delicious thought.

copyright Alex May '72

A BLOGGERS' FLOWERY FAREWELL !

2009-05-13T18:41:00.011+02:00

My present partner Chris, and I, are taking off for an adventure in our motorhome this weekend, to spend some time with no pressures or time limits. Chris has recently had a heart attack and needs the rest, and I, well, I just need some book time and scrabble time, with no TV bulletins about swine flu, nor politicians arguing about expenses abuse. I want to experience late mornings, early nights, meals outside, shorts and tee shirts, B-B-Q's, wandering, swimming, exploring, site-seeing, chatting, and stopping to smell the flowers on the way, etc etc.

Speaking of flowers I shall leave you will some beauties which I took last week at an animal park here in mid France......

Beautiful pink rhodedendrums

A darker variety!

Not sure what this is? Perhaps magnolia - I am hopeless!

Lovely pink and white heather!

Another gorgeous rhodedendrum this one a delicate cream colour!

But- I shall miss the internet, and the blogging , and, believe it or not, some of the soaps!! ( sad isn't it!) So I shall be back sometime !!

THE WORLD REALLY IS A STAGE

2009-05-11T18:33:00.011+02:00

Nothing changes does it?

First time I have really read these words! I was surprised to see the french words creeping in on the last line!

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages. At first the infant, mewling and puking in the nurse's arms; then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
and shining morning face, creeping like snail unwillingly to school. And then the lover, sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad, made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking the bubble reputation even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, in fair round belly with good capon lin'd, with eyes severe and beard of formal cut, full of wise saws and modern instances; and so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, with spectacles on nose and pouch on side; his youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide for his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,turning again toward childish treble, pipes and whistles in his sound. Last scene of all , that ends this strange eventful history, is second childishness and mere oblivion; sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

William Shakespeare

As You Like It, 2. 7

IMAGINE JOHN TODAY

2009-05-09T18:36:00.015+02:00

IMAGINE

Imagine there's no heaven

its easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

ImAgine all the people

living for today

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people

Living life in Peace

You may say that I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger

A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people

Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will live as one.

lyrics by John Lennon

You cannot read the lyrics of John Lennons' Imagine , without singing it in your mind, the haunting music just floods in! But it's the words that are shouting his outrage at life, and they are even more poignant today. He tried to make the world listen and care, but instead outraged the church, increased his fortune, and pushed him further forward, centre stage of the world! I wonder , had he lived, how would he view the world today?

On the 8th December 1980 I was visiting my husband in hospital following a major road accident. I heard the news of the assasination of John Lennon over the car radio just as I was leaving; I rushed back to the ward to Alex and we just wept, along with the entire world. What a loss!

THOUGHTS ABOUT A ROOM!

2009-05-07T18:52:00.012+02:00

This following poem was written by my late husband in the '70 's....

THE ROOM.

A clock ticks,
twice a second in the vacant air,
it hits against the silence
of the room,and holds in defiance
the emptiness, the apparent nothing.
And tells of someone near.

The clock ticks,

a scarf liesdraped across a chair,cold silk not worn today, butused some time. But not todayso discarded it is still, still.Placed across the chair.

Clock's ticking,

still twice a second. Someone will know

what the time is, in this patient silence;

someone wants to know, someone not yet there

and the room waits silently.

Like the scarf across the chair.

Poem by Alex copyright

LIFE IN OUR GROUNDS!

2009-05-01T19:15:00.015+02:00

My last posting was labelled " Death in our Grounds " ! It was a sad post and I want to counter-balance it with this post " Life in our Grounds "- because although we are devastated at losing so many trees, new and beautiful life is bursting forth everywhere and that is wonderful! I have no idea what the above tree is bit it does have the most magnificent blossom....

A large, but oh so delicate flower!

Even the grass this year is sporting purple flowers! I don't like to think of them as weeds!

These are lovely too, again I have no idea of their name, but they are growing everywhere in the woods in big luscious patches!

....and look at these little beauties, fragile, wild flowers growing ' willy-nilly'.....

... and how can we forget those stingy things, ouch!.......

.......but they have a beauty all of their own-- and they make an excellent nettle wine :)

Finally, keep your fingers crossed for this poor chap, he is hanging on in there!
We do have the 'proper' flowers too, but I thought you might appreciate the ' walk on the wild side' of my gardens today!

DEATH IN OUR GROUNDS

2009-04-27T19:49:00.015+02:00

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

2009-04-24T19:20:00.006+02:00

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

2009-04-20T19:11:00.009+02:00

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

2009-04-09T18:29:00.000+02:00

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

2009-04-06T10:26:00.000+02:00

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

2009-04-02T11:51:00.001+02:00

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.

STAINED BEAUTY

2009-03-30T19:43:00.000+02:00

What beauty can be found in little french village churches.................

From outside......

to inside !

Magnificent in their colours!

ALEX'S TRIBUTE TO HIS GRANDMOTHER

2009-03-26T18:32:00.000+01:00

My Grandmother Louise.

I remember her hands,

work-worn and scaly

against my feathers.

Daily scrubbed in service

when she was a young girl and

never idle a moment.

Working fingers. Lean, like her voice,

always correct and

always correcting me, sharply,

best as she knew how.

Hands that bathed me.

Hands that chastised me.

Hands that fed me, filled my own

with the strength a child needs.

Hands that loved me like her own.

Hands that knew pain; that felt,

through the hardy skin,

her love, only one, lifelessly

slip through her fingers

(to rest her hands from his weight)

Hands that touched winter

and denied the cold,

half-way to heaven as the knuckles

told her life in knotches.

These were the hands that shone stone

for a living, a lifetime;

the hands I remember

ground to the bone.

By Alex

my beloved husband who passed away 27th March 2001.

SUNSET IN FRANCE

2009-03-24T11:07:00.001+01:00

I was inspired to post these pictures, after visiting cori's blog , as it is true that some photographs never look quite as good when they are posted up, particularly if your blog will not support a larger size? I remembered that I had taken these in November last year, one evening when the sky was really blood red. By the time I had fetched the camera the colour had dissipated a bit, but I was quite pleased with the pink hue it gave everything!

Nature is wonderful isn't it?

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY

2009-03-22T19:43:00.000+01:00

TO ALL MUMS OUT THERE .........

IT'S RAINING BOWS !

2009-03-18T16:53:00.001+01:00

What fun I had tracking the rainbows! But I didn't find the crock of gold though :(

A TWITCH OF SEVERAL NERVES

2009-03-14T10:28:00.000+01:00

A TWITCH OF SEVERAL NERVES.

Bird,

wings, wind arriving.

Clock,

fell sun, face diving.

Darker as bones cramp,

a skivvy for Time.

Discreet sky: a line,

late, perhaps the bird

at flight, or a word

was unwound straight,

merry on its hook.

The stained fingers

that wrote it, long mute,

wearing an ashtray

for their grave of talk.

Twitch,

the silk bird grieving.

Cold,

listen, wind leaving.

By Alex,

AN ANNOUNCEMENT !

2009-03-12T12:48:00.000+01:00

Wonderful news which I would like to share ....

The day before yesterday my sixth great grandchild was born! A beautiful little girl.... mother and baby doing fine, she weighed in at 6lb 12 oz and her name is Natasha!

and here she is less than 24 hours old.......

My family now consists - 4 children ( all girls), 11 grandchildren ( 5 girls and 6 boys) and 6 great grandchildren ( 5 girls and 1 boy) -- isn't that wonderful!

To me that is what life is all about---families .

THE BEAUTY OF FORSYTHIA

2009-03-10T09:32:00.001+01:00

Forsythia is a beautiful flowering plant , native to China and was discovered by Robert Fortune a great eighteenth century plant hunter. It was named after William Forsyth who was Director of the Chelsea Physic Gardens in 1770, and one of the founders of the Royal Horticultural Society.

I love the way it blooms before the leaves push through, because you can pick and display the budding branches and watch the pretty lemon flowers open day by day until it is in full bloom.

and this is what I picked two days ago, nearly in full bloom, heralding he Spring!

MEET CHARLIE MY ADORABLE RAM

2009-03-08T19:41:00.000+01:00

A while back in England , Alex and I ran a holiday Caravan Park set in a beautifuL rolling Valley in North Devon, near Barnstaple. There were 12 luscious acres of parkland, and , at that time we had no animals , except a Pekingnese - a lot different from the Dobermans we were to have later- and a cat! Feeling broody one day with all our daughters growing up and moving away ( college, marriage ) I approached the local farmer with a view to adopting a baby lamb! He was very sweet and presented me with two, who I immediately called Charlie and Shambles.

Shambles is the lamb lying down, bless the poor little one, he had damage to his back legs and couldn't stand, but the farmer had said there might be a chance for him if we massaged his legs and tried to encourage him to stand and walk. This we did every day to no avail. He fed well each day from his bottle of milk, as did Charlie , but his legs didn't get any better and not long after , the vet informed me that he had brain damage from the birth which was his main problem. I took him back to the farmer, and cried all the way home.

Charlie, however, went from strngth to strength and grew into a beautiful ram.....

All the holidaymakers thought he was adorable, he would frolic around the chalets and caravans and they would feed him scraps--- then he became too cheeky, I remember hearing a rumpus one day, and went running to see what the fuss was. Charlie whizzed past me with someones' large chocolate cake in his smiling mouth, hotly persued by campers shaking their fists!! After that Alex insisted we had to fence him off an area of his own.

When it was our turn for us to go on holiday , Charlie went off to stay at the farm, and one year he fell in love with Lucie.....

I was unable to persuade te farmer to part with Lucie, so he made fleeting visits from time to time. AAH!

This was a long time ago and Charlie is now that big fluffy cloud which you see so often in the sky that looks just like him!! I shall always remember him.

DUCK DIAGNOSIS

2009-03-07T16:34:00.000+01:00

The white Duck which featured in my post a few days ago, is still with us! She ( I think she must be a she) now has a name-- Phoebe. Phoebe just hasn't flown at all she has taken up residence in the little house on the little island.....

I have looked her up on Google and am convinced she is a Muscovy Duck. Although it is difficult to see from this picture she has the unique lumpy crest around the eyes and above the beak which is a feature of the Muscovy. They are said to have the nicest character of all the breeds of duck, with a pronounced sense of humour, being intelligent and the females are very loving mothers . More Muscovy information with pictures .

IN A BAR SOMEWHERE

2009-03-05T11:34:00.000+01:00

WHAT LOOKS LIKE A MAN.

A bar somewhere.

Crowds of cigarettes shouting and laughing,

and booze burning brdges, building some others

or just licking the lips of an empty shoreline.

He, an uncanny Messiah, solitary,

sits in a glass on the edge of life;

listening to the sweet stench of voices

and the record that slips on the turntable

and the loud money waving goodbye

and the world playing for time

and the silence of his mind,

and the silence, where it crawls, in between the noise.

So he relaxes, deeper, protected

by the glass walls in his hand,

watching the sound of the evening

in its delirium pass by.

Through the glass, through the smoke,

through the talking air on its nightly rounds,

there, close to the fire, stands a man

smiling: The father, dead from yesterday,

grey teeth reflecting the flames' murmurs, appearing to speak.

The son hears nothing from behind his walls,

only sees the smiling man walk away

in the passage of flames - the moment fades.

A river takes to the roads where an age of ice

marked out the channels he knows too well:

at other times they are dry reaches

that his face calls maturity, creating

what looks like a man.

written by my late husband Alex circa 1978

THE WHITE DUCK

2009-03-03T12:36:00.000+01:00

First thing this morning I looked out of the bedroom window and the white duck was still there preening herself by the little lake.....

Err... if you have a magnifying glass you might just see her!!

So I quickly got dressed and armed with a sheer determination to impress the blogging world with my duck photos I rushed out and started snapping with my little old digi camera and this is the result!!!

and that's about it I'm afraid! She would not let me get any closer, ah well. Some days you win- some you lose. I hope she stays, I think she is quite old and lonely!

Back with unwanted baggage!

2009-03-02T12:48:00.000+01:00

Well-- it was actually a great break! But we returned with an unexpected present, ah the picture says it all.

The common cold!

However , it was worth it. We caught up with family and friends in Swizterland then mosied on down in our motorhome to the Var, in the south of France. We didn't go out of France this time but did manage to find the sunshine.

I Have posted some photos on my other blog http://mylifefromacaravantoachateau.blogspot.com and it also includes a link to an interesting article about the old adage " feed a cold and starve a fever" which I always took to be a fact and now find that it really is. So lots of hot dinners and hot drinks for the rest of this week for me.

We arrived home to find a lovely white , but tired looking , duck in our front garden. She ( I'm sure it's a she) is very tame and we had great trouble trying to persuade her to go into the rear gardens as we were about to collect the dogs from the kennels. As they would regard her as a good dinner it was imperative that she leave their area. Eventually she flew to a high wall in the grounds and there she remained all night. Today she is down by our little lake, so tomorrow I will take the camera out for a few shots. I hope she stays, we do have other ducks who come and go, and have even had batches of babies-- but she is unlike any other duck I have seen, she is large ,pure white except for some red around her beak. Also she seems to be quite old. Perhaps I will look her up.

SHORT LEAVE OF ABSENCE

2009-02-20T13:08:00.000+01:00

I have my sad face on today because I must take a short leave of absence from my blog!

We will be taking a planned holiday in our motorhome ( yes-I KNOW-I'm back to a caravan again) for about a week and a half.

Normally this is a pleasurable thing we do at this time of the year to find some sunshine, but it will be a wrench not being able to easily connect to the internet as we shall be touring around. However I will have a camera at the ready for some picture stories on my return.

Take care in the meantime, and happy blogging! See you soon!

NAUGHTY ANTICS AT THE BBC!

2009-02-19T10:20:00.000+01:00

I am back to my late husband again and would like to share an amusing tale with you , to show that even though his poetry is quite serious, the man himself was an extremely charasmatic and funny person.

Back in the 60/70's Alex worked for BBC television at their White City studios in London - where they still operate from . He was a back-stage technician and worked many of the shows, and had a lot of fun. Because of the nature of his job he worked long hours, with often nothing to do in between shoots. He loved clowning around and one day he decided, along with one of his mates, to ask the make-up girls (who also had long periods with nothing to do) to make them up as women. The girls agreed and ' went the whole hog' with not only the make-up but the hair-do as well! The result on Alex was so good that he really did look like a woman and the girls took a head and shoulder photo of him. At that particular time the ' Ariel' magazine which was the BBC's staff magazine was running the annual " Miss BBC Competition"! I bet you can guess what I am about to write --YES Alex sent his photo up with a psuedenym -- and then forgot about it.

So here is the photo.....
Can you guess which one is him?
It is the top left hand picture.

That night he came home and showed me the picture, saying that it was a girl who had just joined their team. I thought she was quite good looking and was feeling a bit jealous that he had bothered to take a picture of her, when he told me it was himself! I HADN'T EVEN RECOGNISED MY OWN HUSBAND? I too thought it was a hoot that he had entered it into the BBC contest.

The outcome actually was almost disastrous. They picked the finalists by photo selection only and I might add here that there were more entrants than those I have shown above. Alex ( can you believe) was chosen as one of the finalists, which meant that he had to go before a panel in a swimsuit parade ( haha). Of course it was at this moment that he decided to ' come clean' and confess that he was really a guy! And a normal one - with four children. There was a huge fuss and he was almost offered the door! Thank goodness they didn't. The daily Mirror gave Alex a two page coverage with photos titled ' Father of four in the Miss BBC contest final"! Ah well! That was my man!

Mum and Dad 1930's

2009-02-17T16:22:00.000+01:00

So this is a picture of Celia and Frank, my Mum and Dad. I think it was taken in the 1930' s, they might have still been courting or perhaps newly married. I don't think that Dad was much of a ' looker' , bless him, but he was such a great, kind, loyal man who Mum adored. She told me that when she met him she was attracted to his fine head of black hair and beautiful teeth .

They belonged to a motor-bike club and had a big bike and sidecar and would go away for weekends with the club. Not long after they married though, they were involved in a bad accident on Blackfriars bridge; there were no traffic lights in those days and a car crossed and hit them. Apparently, Dad swerved to avoid the car crashing into the sidecar ( where Mum was) and took the full force of the impact on his leg. The outcome was 18 months in and out of hospital where surgeons battled to save his crushed leg. This they finally did achieve, so that was the really good news for them both, but the bad news for Mum was that the shock of it all caused Dads lovely black hair to fall out, so he was bald before he was thirty, and not only that he lost ALL of his teeth as well!! Good job Mum really loved him ( smile).

MY MUM --CELIA 1923

2009-02-15T19:08:00.000+01:00

The lovely lady in the picture above is my Mum, Celia, when she was just fifteen. What a character she was!

She met my Dad, Frank, in a queue outside a picture house in East London. Mum was with a girlfriend and Dad was with his mates. They all started chatting, but when they got to the front of the queue , the theatre was one seat short, so Frank said she could sit on his lap!!! Which she did!! Forward lass ( smile). She told me she sat with him throughout the film and then Dad made a date with her for the next day. As they parted he insisted she take his watch, knowing that she would have to turn up; How romantic is that? That was in 1923!

They got married when Mum was 21, and I wasn't born until she was 33! She always told me that she was having such a good time, she thought she would wait. They worked hard and played hard all their life and were so happy. I was their only child, probably a bit spoilt,

but I think I had a great upbringing- I always felt that I could discuss any thing with them, particularly Mum.

They were married for 57 years before my Dad, sadly, passed away. Mum then lived with us until she passed away in 2007 aged 99. What happy memories I have of both of them. There are so many stories about them that I could tell, but am finding it a bit too emotional so will leave the tales for perhaps another time.

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYBODY!!

2009-02-14T10:29:00.000+01:00

When I get older losing my head

Many years from now

Will you still be sending me a Valentine,

Birthday greetings, bottle of Wine.......................when I'm 64!

Well I'm 66 now and the answer is "YES" folks!

Happy Valentines day to all--have fun!

My thanks to John,George Paul and Ringo who shaped my life.

FEAR OF FLYING

2009-02-13T12:42:00.000+01:00

Firstly I would like to say how devastated I was to see the news this morning of plane crash at buffalo with a loss of 49 lives. I cannot even begin to imagine the grief of the families who lost their loved ones. My heart goes out to them.

I have a genuine fear ( more like a terror) of flying!
I expect all those of you who regularly fly from place to place around the world will not quite understand this fear. Perhaps not all of you are always comfortable when boarding a plane, even nervous -- BUT YOU DO IT! I cannot. It has been a dread of mine since I was young and repeatedly had nightmares about a plane crashing. Bizarrely so, I was never actually in the plane when it crashed.

Actually, I did try flying 3 times! When I was in my late twenties and was an executive , I had to fly from Manchester to the Isle of Man for meetings. The situation was that I found I couldn't let go of the seat, I felt so traumatised. Each time it got worse so that was the end of that.

Pills, potions, drink, hypnosis, counselling etc etc, all of those were never an option for me. I am anti all drugs, and a control freak and always have been . So now we travel around Europe on terra firma in a camping car, which is great- honestly! Nevertheless I do have this nagging feeling now I am pegging on a bit, that I will never get to see the really exotic places. Oh I forgot to mention that I am also not happy on a boat either, unless I see land in view! I can hear you thinking " this lady is a freak", and you might be right, although friends and family consider me to be reasonabley normal.
Ah well I guess I shall just have to live with it unless anyone can come up with a solution?

MOMENTARY NOTE.....by Alex

2009-02-12T18:54:00.000+01:00

The eye pauses,

breath scattered its imperfections;

without speaking

a dog passes,

and we're supposed to be friends.

My daughter

with her individual fingers

collectively touches my brain,

scratching new words

with a nail

about my dripping mouth.

And her ear the cup I fill

saying, sing me that song

again, father;

it sounds wrong,

or if not wrong, then oddly right.

My voice, disarmed,

picks up some other air

from a different corner,

trembling,

how the tongue tastes fear,

her question counts my age.

IS THIS PAINTING BY A FAMOUS ARTIST?

2009-02-10T18:55:00.000+01:00

Back in 1973 , Alex and I bought a lovely old timber framed house near the Medway towns in Kent, England. The house was a bit ramshackle but ideally large for our family of four daughters in that it had 4 bedrooms. A strange old lady had lived there with her 3rd husband , and we soon learned from the local police inspector that she and her family had quite a ' history'. She kept a pet chimpanzee whom she used to dress in childrens clothes which we found was also bizarre. However we did go ahead and bought this house with its pretty gardens.

Not long after moving in we were rummaging around in the attic when we came across the above painting, and also some beautiful old victorian glass photography plates which we knew were quite valuable. The painting itself was genuinely old and had a gash ( which you can see in the photo) as though someone had slashed it with a knife; the signature had worn away , but on the back was (is) a yellow ( with age) sticker stating that it was exhibited during the last world war as a painting by Benjamin Robert Haydon, the famous English historical painter. We waited for the lady to come back and claim the articles which she had left behind, which she did eventually , but she only wanted the glass plates. We took the painting to Sotheby's in London, but they couldn't definitely identify it , but did advise us to have it cleaned and mounted ( which we did) but advised us not to have it repaired. Since then it has taken pride of place in all of our homes ( we moved about a lot) but we still don't know the origin of this painting;

Is there anyone out there who can help?

WHAT IS GOOD ABOUT BLOGGING?

2009-02-09T13:01:00.000+01:00

Since I started blogging, this January, I have found that it has really taken over my thoughts and my life! It is the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing at night! How SAD is that? Am I normal? I want , so much, for the blog to be interesting , and, hopefully, informative.

I have found though, that I derive great pleasure from expressing my thoughts and ,on this blog, my late husbands words . It is cleansing and gives me particular satisfaction knowing that some people are actually reading it; even if they weren't,I know the pleasurable feeling would be the same. What I hadn't expected though, was the community feeling, the knowledge gained through others blogs, the making of new invisible friends ,the sharing of ideas, and basically the FUN of it all .

The down side is that my pile of ironing us getting ever higher, the dogs are not getting so many walks, the housework has gone to pot, I am piling on pounds through lack of exercise, and I wonder why the days seem much shorter. Perhaps I should get out more?

My Lovely Doberman

2009-02-06T19:26:00.001+01:00

In an earlier post about my dogs, I featured my two Afghan Hounds in a photo and mentioned that I would post a picture of my lovely doberman;

Here he is in all his glory , and this photo was entered in Charlie's Alphabet Challenge , see post below for information.

My favourite one

2009-02-05T19:15:00.000+01:00

FUNERAL

A cortege has just passed.

Huge black motor cars

cutting their ponderous way

through the street. The occupants

all have washed this morning,

and donned black habits

and white manners through which

little grains of shock discreetly

stammer on whisky breath

of spiked dawn tea, and tangle

in the netting and respectable gloom.

There are tell-tales on the faces:

poor whoever it was

going to a better place

there was a smile on his face

he's at rest, you see

thank God it's not me.

Something comforting about a funeral,

somebody else's; second chance perhaps.

Cars of all colours belting past now.

The street takes a deep breath

and smiles as though it had never happened.

This is my favourite poem of Alex, my late husband, who always managed to see the funny side of things, and remark on them.

WHERE HAS TODAY GONE?

2009-02-04T19:15:00.000+01:00

I cannot believe that it's 7.30 in the evening and I have achieved practically nothing all day! Or have I ? Let me look back at my day...........I awoke at 8am watched the SKY news with the first cuppa, showered, plastered on the make -up hoping it would take off 5 years ( it never does, but I feel better when I can hide behind it), then bounced ( yes I did say bounced) downstairs to take breakfast (toast & coffee) with my partner and my cousin ( who I havent seen for years) who is staying for a few days. UMM, then we talked, swapped family photos, went out to town to show off the nice bits ( cathedral, river, park etc), bought a baguette for lunch, and drove home again; Then we had lunch, I had a nap (I KNOW) for an hour then we played with the dogs, took a tour of the grounds - a slow tour-, etc etc. Finally watched deal or no deal and then I came to the office realising that I hadn't played with my computer all day!!!! So here I am, disgusted with my totally unproductive day and having just 10 mins to find something to write about before I get ready to go out for dinner. So there it is -- in a nutshell.

Hope you lot did something better --have a good day/evening x

Alphabet fun

2009-02-01T16:57:00.000+01:00

check out Charlies' alphabet challenge on the ' laughter Minute' blog ( see my bloglist), it's fun. You have to post a photo a day for the whole of February- each photo has to associated with the letter of he alphabet eg A for feb. 1st - B for feb.2nd and so on. Best photos will be judged. I have joined in and I wish him luck.

As Before, Comment Defines Expertise For Good Honest Ideas. Judge Kindly Little Magical Nuances On Photos, Quaint, Rich, Sensual Touches Uncover Valuable Ways, Xceeding Your Zeal!

errr used a little bit of poetic licence!

MORE ABOUT ALEX

2009-01-31T18:40:00.000+01:00

Alex's poems always move me. They bring him back to life momentarily, and although they often seem sad and foreboding , the person he was couldn't have been further from that. He was a man abounding with life, absolutely passionate about his writing. Always full of fun and optimism, delighted in making people laugh , generally by poking fun at himself. He loved and lived life to the full. His writing included plays, poems, stories and work for the theatre. We were married for 41 years and have a large family. This poem was written in the 70's .

ALIEN

The quiet of the trees.
No wind today. Some rain
falls but does not disturb
the quiet of the trees:

the way a branch would bend
the green veins and its youth,
so much, the skin might tear,
and all the leaves and the air
surrounding it, would follow it round
but not change their course,
this is their direction.

This weird collection of shapes
does not level accusation.
the quiet of it all accepts.

In this - the ugliest child
knows its beauty's in its roots
and the dying know their place,
lay down with dignity,
retaining their attraction
even after death; that's the quiet
which makes men scream like intemperate gods.

by Alex copyright

THE WHITE HERON

2009-01-30T12:47:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, looking out of the window, we saw what we thought was a large swan landing in the stream . Suddenly she took off and came closer , landing in our pond to feast on the carp and we realised that she was a beautiful heron. Many herons stop by for lunch but this is the first time I have seen a pure white one; so beautiful she was. We rushed to get the camera, but they are so aware of any movement and she took off! the picture I have posted is courtesy of the net -- perhaps another day....

Living in the countryside is so peaceful. We are lucky here as we have the best of both worlds -we are surrounded by greenery, yet within walking distance (2kms) of a bustling town. One of my New Year's resolutions was to walk into the shops instead of driving - well I made it with all good intentions, however perhaps when Spring arrives.

SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW............

2009-01-28T19:11:00.001+01:00

Bluebirds?

What are your hopes and aspirations for 2009 ?

Inner peace - more love - gentle thoughts - good health for all - new friends - contented family,

just a few of my hopes.

TRUTH -- poem for wednesday

2009-01-28T12:06:00.000+01:00

She smelt the country.
I heard her say she liked it.

Once from an upstairs window,
she surveyed her being:

there were lilacs, she said.
It was May, sort of Summer
with it's mouth opening
about to speak. And there was
a little sun, and the radio
barking like a poor man.
But we were deaf for the present;

and just for that moment,
as I saw her, she believed
exactly what her eyes told her.

By Alex

MEN AT WORK ON THE POOL

2009-01-27T10:47:00.000+01:00

Well, more about the pool ! The men came and went!!!! But, they did the job ---YIPPEE! But, What a Mess---YUK! They arrived at 8.30 am complete with 4 truckloads of equipment , gravel ,pipes ( with holes in which will allow the water in then be funnelled out the other end onto our lawn), diggers etc; It was hell let loose in a day! I did not dare to go over to see the devastation, but my partner did and he took photos as you can see. I still haven't looked but I shall definitely do so after this posting. Apparently it has all been tidied up and, apart from the fact that they have had to excavate the majority of the newly seeded lawn surround, it is O.K. So now, the BIG TEST! Will the next downpour lift the liner to the surface again? We shall see.

Other news I HAVE STARTED A NEW BLOG! I said I was thinking about doing something new, so I upped and did it. There are no postings yet so I will tell all in my next post here! It is an exciting one for me.

SUNDAY IN FRANCE

2009-01-25T19:15:00.000+01:00

Have you ever had that feeling that you want to do something really different, but you have no idea what that is? I woke up with that feeling today and it has persisted. What to do? I just have no idea! It is a Sunday , perhaps the day for reflection, it is a lovely sunny day but very frosty- and I just cannot get my brain into first gear! Everything here is good, we went out for a 'power walk' , did some pruning in the grounds, painted a gate extension, had bacon and eggs for brunch, took afternoon tea with home made bread pudding --- but still that nagging feeling. Perhaps I should start another blog-- from a completely different point of view, perhaps we should buzz off for a few days break down south , perhaps I should just shut up about this!

Tomorrow will be better , more action to get to grips with; the pool men are coming to try to fix their 'mistake' when they constructed the swimming pool , i.e. they did not take into account the fact that the soil is clay here and holds water and they did not put a drain all around the pool. Consequently each time it rains heavily the pool liner floats to the surface of the pool because
water seeps in underneath it! So now they have to dig this deep trench all around our pool and (hopefully) 'make-good' the surround afterwards......... to be continued

2009-01-23T11:50:00.000+01:00

PLEASE NOTE
Any poems or writings attributed to Alex
is the copyright of his surviving patner,Delphine
the author of this blog;

CHERRY RIPE

2009-01-23T11:15:00.000+01:00

THE ORCHARD

Unusual voices

clamber through the branches

and break up the otherwise

independant wind's consecutive nature;

Tall ladders leaning on the sky,

casual workers, working casually

but quick though to pick cherries,

capture time in a basket.

The fingers pounce,snatch at

and finally dismantle

the weather of several months;

the cherry turns, falls,

comes to rest still looking alive

in a stealthy instant,

internment is always near at hand.

by Alex 1972

Memories of many summers past when we were together. It was a good feeling setting that poem down, especially as it reminded me of the warmth and smells and tastes of early Summer.

In mid France today it is very wet and windy, so no gardening for us, which is a shame such a lot more pruning to be done. There were six ducks on our stream today, tearing around, more males than females so quite a few feathers ruffled. We have deer in our park from time to time; once we counted Five, a family of three young. The stag was teaching his only male offspring to 'Rack' ( is that the right word for antler bashing?) anyway it was wonderful to watch. We hide as they are very perceptive to any movement. hope to get a picture one day, problem is never have the camera to hand at the right moment.

Finally I would like to pay a tribute to the courage of Jade Goody whose TV documentary has restarted . Her battle against her cervical cancer is an example to fellow sufferers, especially as she is continuing as normal her celebrity life ( good luck with the panto) and her home life, and whilst keeping nothing back from her young children she is encouraging them to have faith in her recovery. If you are by any chance reading this Jade -- " GO GIRL" !!! It cannot be easy.

BLOWING A RASPBERRY!

2009-01-22T19:10:00.000+01:00

Will you please not photograph me whilst my hair is in a mess!!HAVE YOU NO FEELINGS!

THANK GOODNESS!

2009-01-21T18:46:00.000+01:00

Fantastic! It feels good, doesn't it? Just knowing that the future is a little more secure in the hands of a good man. I wonder how he felt when he awoke this morning? All that weight ! Did he feel that? and his family? Such a responsibility - not many men would trade places. But we all felt better didn't we! Except for the cynics - but then they are only happy disagreeing with the majority.
So the next phase begins..........

In my little corner of the world I have been going bonkers trying to find the right containment fencing to keep my dogs from going AWOL! The choices are many, I am thinking right now of the hidden fencing with the correction control collar? Anyone had good results from that? The area I want to cover is about 2 acres so we need a lot of wire , and patience to do ' the training' that's needed. HEY HO!

Before I go I would like to post a quick-th-make recipe from Marianne Rowley a friend of a friend of a friend

METTE'S SNICKERS CAKE
Ingredients

3 egg whites - whisked until stiff
300 ml caster sugar
20 Ritz biscuits- crushed
250 ml peanuts - chopped

method
Mix it all. Spoon the mixture into a greased and floured 23cm round spring form cake tin, with a removable base.
Bake in the oven at 190°c for 20-30 mins. Cool down. Remember to leave the cake in the tin until you have added one of the toppings.

Topping 1-- 300ml whipped double cream ( no sugar)
or
Topping 2 --
60g butter
150g plain chocolate
1 tsp coffee
melt this in a saucepan-- cool down then add
3 egg yolks and 2 tbsp sugar

WOW! Not good for dieters ( smile)

Bye for now, speak soon.....

TEARS.

2009-01-20T12:29:00.000+01:00

A cut
draws no blood,
the knife
becomes redundant,
is buried
up to the hilt
in earth,
its warm handle
reminding us
of how we cried
before we couldn't;
tell that
to the worm the blade
has just divided into two
equally unemotional people.

by Alex

All knives should be buried, I reckon, at least 60 ft underground!!

So that nice man will make his speech today, I shall be following his 'career' with good heart. How I wish the world of men would stop war-ing with each other -- think back to Lysistrita(???) she got it right. Let us hope that Obama WILL make some impression! A difficult job, and I wish him and his family the best of luck! They ( the family) are in for a roller coaster ride , I think.

Time for lunch now, bon appetit!

Evening in France

2009-01-19T19:21:00.000+01:00

Well, a lot seems to have happened since my last post; firstly I have discovered a wonderful blog, do visit it, see my blog list it's called synch-ro-ni-zing. It will blow you away. Thankyou Ruth for popping in, I value your comments!

Secondly my dogs are REALLY in the dog house! my three 'lovely' ( very questionable) companions decided to go on an adventure! Well two of them did-- they just leapt over my 1m20 high fence ( no mean feat as they had to also negotiate a very prickly hedge) and decided to go and visit my neighbours land, where they keep the most delicious geese and chickens!!! What a palava! Feathers everywhere and a lot of squawking ( and that was just us) the birds wern't too happy either. We managed to finally grab them but the chickens didn't fare too well. The geese had high-tailed it to the back of beyond. To cut an embarassing story short, we had to come clean and visit the owners with a description of the battle. They had been out at the time which actually was a great help, otherwise I might have been left almost dog-less! This pic is the angel of the story who actually remained on our land, can't you see her halo?

BEDROOM SCENE

2009-01-18T11:43:00.000+01:00

The mad light
raves, shoots ricochets,
every syllable
a needle where I lie,
returning, fully powered
high geared, emphasized
in constant attack.
Certainly, my creation
this damning electricity
becomes master.
Where was the trap set?
She hasn't spoken once
yet the light knows
everything about us.
She flicks the switch, off,
silence.
But memories of that brilliance
flood the darkness with pain.

by Alex
Another tale from the 'trunk'. I have been searching for something a little lighter, but all the poetry Alex wrote during the 70's seemed to favour the dark side. I have come across, however, a delightful fairy story, which I would like to post sometime.

Today, it is a wet and blustery Sunday in France, but WARM! for the first time in 2-3 weeks! A great time for playing with the computer. Blogs were such a good idea to start with, but, you know, with the millions that are now floating around who is ever going to find this one? Or yours? ( if there is any fellow blogger reading this) - what can be done? Continue for personal satisfaction and that of the family, of course- the way forward is obviously going on to the thousands(?) of search engines, and leaving URLs here there and everywhere, but is that REALLY going to be worth the effort? Especially as I am a real newcomer to all this scene. I started off this particular blog to perhaps get recognition for the work of my late husband, and although I have left messages on Writer's blogs, nothing has come back. I suppose I could start a new blog about how and why we came to be in france ( moved here in 1989), and how successful a journey it has been! You can make it work, you know! Ah well, I think I will go and bake a cake for my self and my friend-( trying to put on a few pounds ) so carry on blogging and reading.................

Poem for today

2009-01-15T12:12:00.000+01:00

WAIT.

Dust in the sun
pavement warm,unemployed.
Day quiet, even birds
mime, glide like leaves.
The old men, shadows of them
leaning on walls, waiting
on wooden chairs, waiting.
Glasses of young, mild ale
entered into, remembered;
throats remembering too,
showing signs of it, the movement
breaking the journey's stillness.
A long wait, and birds
fly off in those throats
in all directions, leave their trails.
and an empy glass sometimes
finds dust settling upon it,
and shadows from sun falling
wait discreetly, wait wait
smell the appointment sidling up.

by Alex

Derran Brown mindreader or majician ?

2009-01-14T18:32:00.000+01:00

Did you watch Derran Brown on the television last evening? He was very convincing wasnt he, but I went to bed and spent the first hour awake, trying to fathom out how he works. I think I worked out a few of the tricks. Obviously the fake ' passing out' at the end was to give time to feed the updated information scroll into the suspended container. The curtains had to be closed to allow this.
The £500 or £5000 box was just a straight-forward chance as I am sure Derran was honest when he stated at the end that " everybody chooses the £5000".
The floating table worked on the same principles as the "oui-ja" as anyone would know who has seriously taken part in a session.
I think that the 'secret envelope' bowl was swapped twice ( without anyone noticing- like the banana, and the Derran Brown swap on stage) in order for the contents to have been read and then re-sealed and re-placed on stage, however I have no answer as to how he knew the star-signs of the participants.
It was a most enjoyable show, though, and there were some seemingly inexplicable tricks. Anyone else guessed how he does it?
Today here in France it was a little warmer and the dogs actually didn't complain about being out in the garden. The ice on the pond is beginning to thaw and we watched the ducks ice-skating which was hilarious. On the village lake yesterday the locals were feeding bread to the resident muskrat ( not too sure if that's spelt correctly), he was like a HUGE rat. They call them Ragonda here and they are prolific in this area. But they seem to keep to the waterways and are quite tame and don't appear to bother anybody.
Ah well time to think about the evening meal, perhaps lamb chops with a nice glass of red!

My Lovely three dogs

2009-01-12T10:17:00.000+01:00

Bonjour tout le monde!

Monday, still white and -6°!! I thought I would introduce you to my three lovely dogs today I have twin Afghan hounds, bitches, and a male Doberman, tricky, you might say, but he paid a visit to the vet quite early in his life ( shame).He is 8years old now and the ladies are 5years. They might be twins but look totally different, one a beautiful blonde, the other an elegant grey and black. The dobie is abit out of frame, sorry about that-must find another picture.

They all have unusual names -- Can you guess them???????

Horses have been another love of my life. At one time I had six, of course was a lot younger in those days! I so miss them, and still do go for the odd hack generally whilst on holiday. Talking of holidays - where to go this year? My favourite place is Italy- love Rome. France is great too, but as I already live there.......................

CHILD LOST

2009-01-11T12:22:00.000+01:00

Back to more serious stuff today -- well, it is Sunday.

The following is a poem written by my man, Alex, in July 1973. I love it and hope you do!

CHILD LOST

Bedraggled face wet with confusion, fear,
hangs like a hooked fish among fishermen
limp. All others moving from a to b
and him between, somewhere between the two.
Someone lands him, reels him into their eyes
with gentle words, assurance; a warm voice
knowing the area, leads him, small hand
by larger one, back to familiar sounds,
known aromas and silhouettes that he
is unafaid to embrace. The frank womb
where he may unravel his torn stomach.
Safe now, child, caught in childhood's governed net.
But in the bigger sea, the open world,
often-- no warm voice nor old face to kiss.

Nothing I can add to this today, I find it both painful and joyous sifting through the mountain of work that Alex left. Perhaps I need someone to advise me on ' copyright'! Have a good day everybody, enjoy your partner!

last excerpt from " Eunuchs of the World Unite"

2009-01-09T18:01:00.000+01:00

This is the beginning of the ' husbands-of-the-wives-etc" bit. It's where the eunuch grabs a piece of the action; when the unrelenting Company machine begins to turn; when a harmless word, like 'product' becomes more than just a promiscuous object of idle pleasure. So!

Onslaught!

But first! Tke heart. Do not Weaken. Remember the Spirit of the Alamo! You are about to be hit by:

Telephones ( if the kids answer get 'em to speak with a posh accent)
Texts
Memos ( containing double-entendres of the most dubious validity)
counter-memos ( someone must'v got the joke)
Counter counter memos etc
Window displays
Flip charts
Trade figures
Market-share figures
Trade journals ( if you're reading this, you're hooked)
Samples
Portable kiosks
Daily reports
cyclic reports
Sickly reports..........

There is much more; and for all this you have to make house-room!

Added to this there are the apparently endless lists of abbreviations. The MNENONICS. Abounding in absurdity, these gems of Babylonic euphoria will issue from the mouth of your letter-box like they were going out of fashion-- and they probably are. Space - and common decency- prevent me from translating the more obvious ones into good wholesome filth.

This is not, however, something with which the 'other half of CompanyGirl' should concern himself. After all, these, would you believe (?) are our weapons of war. That is to say, from all this we shall derive an income! So, don't get confused. Let me simplify the position - in a nut-shell

'We are incorporated into the structural composition of a structured philosophy, inter-complexed via standardized methods of psychological intent, wherein formalised concepts, conceived and motivated from the earliest conceptual stages emanating from socio-economic pressures upon the Company, are integrated with, and applied to, an overall theme within quasi-ethical bounds, whose charismatic qualities- predetermined per current market trends and their embracing fluctuating accepance attidues- will simultaneously influence and infiltrate, through continuous phase-by-phase analysis, balanced by application of subversive intrusion upon the competitors' integrity, market-availability,thus achieving product growth. "
The resultant factor being --We sell more 'product' than they do!!

So what does all this garbage mean in practical terminology?

EMFFATICS
(Employment of Means, Fair or Foul, to Actuate Total International Control over Sales)

As you are , no doubt, beginning to see, our role in the Company business can be pretty extensive. It can be fun. We don't have to sit at home saying: " If only I'da been a woman it'da
been different" or " There's no justice in this world".Half the judges are women anyway!
No........ we have a positive contribution to make. I's all a question of taking stock of the situation and turning it to our advantage.........................

-----------------------------------------------
That is it for today I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. Ah well time to do the 'woman' thing and prepare supper- best feed the dogs first. Have a good evening ( or day if you are further away)

not all sad

2009-01-08T12:23:00.000+01:00

hello again, today is a VERY COLD Thursday morning, around -7°, it's great to be tucked up here in my warm office! I hope you are out of the cold too!

Today I would like you to see the lighter side of my husband's writings, so I am setting down some excerpts from " Eunuchs of the world unite ", written when I had just risen to the 'giddy heights' of being an Area Sales manager WOOOOHHH!! so it begins......

" She is liberated! From what, or whom, I don't know; but, certainly, she has that pragmatic flounce of masculinity about her, which kind'v renders a lot of people submissive, or inadequate.....or both.

She is an executive...

She is a good executive...

She is a successful executive... she is an Area Sales Manager for (mentions Company)
Eat your heart out Boadicea!

'She' is also "manager" of: husband, 1
children, 4
horses, 3
cats, 2
dogs, 1......... fame. My wife!

So where, I frequently, of late, ask myself.........where do I fit into all this?
Any other men out there feel the same way?.....Mmm...I didn't think I was unique.

Well, I am here - as some time husband of this athletic phenomenon- to show how the eunuch can have a place in the ' Company' set-up. He...It?...too will, with some loyal service under the belt, eventually go to that big Bonded Warehouse in the sky.

Prior to the Company's engagement in our lives, of course there were the inevitable bra-burning sessions, and the brief trips to Marks & Spencers for 'y' fronts.On reflection, maybe it was St. Michael who put the final seal on it.... I don't know. All I can say is on joining the Company (note the capital 'C' there. Crawl a little...why be proud) there was a definite aura of a religious nature kind'v tied-up in the initiation ceremony. So much so, in fact, I have only to hear the initials of the Company and I genuflect......... see?... I did it then!

To begin with, I haven't always been a eunuch. And, my wife, she hasn't always been an executive. We have 'become' what we are. The change has been gradual. As far as she is concerned, it was a revitalization over an undefined period of time- not wholly unconnected with the sale of the product. In fact, you'll probably recognise a distinct correlation between Us and the ' hit-men' from the Company. A sort of marriage. I drifted off-shore, let the tide take me. It may sound Victorian...." close your eyes and think of England". But that's the way I am!
To be continued...................

2nd and 3rd of the three poems - 1973

2009-01-07T10:35:00.000+01:00

Daily.

Birds
flaunting the air.
Pebbles, like us
promiscuously touching
each other. The blind child
of three, living, living
sees not her daily shadow
behind her. Only the tyrant
watches, waiting to
seize the past by its scrawny throat,
mould it out of the future.

Evening.

Birds
fall down from the sky;
warm grass settles for less than light.
The child of three,
nightdressed once again,
closes her petals,
slopes like the shadows
over her island; dies
in cupped arms.
She has lived.
Still the tyrant wanders
through his dream black sleep.

After moving house, I discovered these verses, written by my late husband, in two huge chests, amongst masses of other 'writings'. I hope you will find them as interesting as I do........ more to come! I would welcome your comments.

Memories of a man I once shared my life with

2009-01-06T16:42:00.000+01:00

I have been widowed now for (unbelievingly) nearly eight years. My husband was a prolific writer (unpublished) and I would like to share some of his thoughts;

one of three poems, written in 1973

Seven a.m.

Birds. Air free,
the sun tuning up.
Shadows
of trees, bushes, small stones
warmed, still life
stretching. A nightdressed
child of three wakes,
bare, damp feet,
over the grass; listens
smells, touches this drawing
morning. Somewhere
a tyrant closes his eyes.