New paintings and regular art updates.
Tawny owl https://g.co/kgs/tciyaEu
Just heard owls hooting in Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. They were going too whit, too woo. That means there are a pair because they share the call. The male hoots one part and the female responds (or it might be the other way round) I think they must be tawny owls but it’s years since I’ve heard any. I can remember hearing a pair regularly 10 or 15 years ago. Perhaps they have migrated in? Good to hear them. Odd I’m wearing an owl patterned top today!
What could you do more of?
If I could do more exercise, I think I would be healthier. But everytime I try and do something? Something else goes wrong with me. I’m like a car that had had all it’s wires disconnected and put back in the wrong places. My head would fall off if it wasn’t screwed on! I know I need to do more but I’ve hurt my leg (well my cat stuck her claws in it) and it started to weep. Now I’ve got a cold. I just feel fed up of being a wreck.
I think I will do something about it soon, in the hope I can improve my health. Fingers crossed.
It rained in Wales:
Water fell on land and sea.
Pebbles rattled in the tide
As the water came to me.
On my head, trickling down.
Back of my neck? Very wet!
My phone is full of photos and every so often I optimise them because the file sizes are too big. But that always mixes the dates up, and this time many photos of my hubby showed up out of the thousands of images I have.
Cue deep greif again. My man was funny, eccentric, bombastic, able to express himself. He was emotional and sometimes irrational. But he supported me and we loved each other. He had a mad sense of humour and although he could get angry about things that was more about incidents in his life that had caused him to suffer from PTSD.
Each time I see his face I remember and I am upset again. Decades of life together has made our link so strong. I wish I could have him back, not just photos, but the reality.
When we first started our lives we were empty books. At the end, perhaps we are the same. When the memory dwindles and is gone. Thousands of days or years pass by. How can we be remembered? Our belongings may be passed down through generations, but eventually they just become remnants of a previous way of life.
I not trying to be melodramatic about this or emotional. I’m just contemplating my place in history, a short blip in a continuous spectrum of time. I’m trying to grasp as much of life as I can for as long as I can. Continuing to take an interest in the world and the best of humanity. I hope you are too.
Surprise!
One night I dreamt that I would meet some friends on a road nearby, but since they lived 40 miles away and only cycled that seemed unlikely. I also remembered the dream was on a wet day. Things seemed very clear. But as usual I couldn’t remember the details when I woke up. Then a few days later we decided to ride out and meet some other friends on their farm. It was an overcast day as we started out on our 5 mile ride to visit them. But SURPRISE! In the distance we saw our friends cycling towards us. They must have had the same idea. But they were with some others. It started to rain and as the friends drew closer I realised they were with the people I’d dreamt of! Then we all took shelter under cover of a bus stop. Thunder rumbled and lightening flashing! I realised it was my dream!
Supermoon shakes in the window
My poor nearsighted eyes make it dance
Layers of lemon cheese
with green salad leaves
Like nettle wrapped Cornish Yarg…
Slivers of moonlight sparkle
Watery eyes observe
See through my sight eagerly
Learn a new way to view.
What would your life be like without music?
I love singing harmonies in choirs.
Stiring sea shanties,
Soaring melodies
Deep, soulful folk songs,
Some pop songs from yesteryear.
Voices mingled
Low and high meld together.
Sopranos and Bass, Alto and Tenor
Winding and twisting around
Yes singing lifts me.
For years I drew seahorses on the sand
A holiday tradition.
He would watch while I drew
Happy in admiration
Sunny, bright days,
Soft sand
Holding hands.
I started doing this
30 years ago
Seahorses gallop into the waves
Dragging my memories
In the undertow
Last week I walked towards a beach
Did not step onto it
Did not pick up a stick and draw
Did not depict this watery creature
I don’t know if I ever will
Again….
Sand particles washed and blown
Away…
Has my tide turned?
I don’t know…
Tasty 1970s food before real foreign food was a thing. I particularly liked the chow mein vesta made (I don’t know if it’s still manufactured).
This is my faulty memory, I thought it came with prawn crackers but when I saw the photo I remembered they had a little packet of thin strips of noodles that you had to fry so they puffed up into little squiggles of crispy noodles. I’m guessing that the food was cooked In pans, certainly it was before microwaves, and it was unusual to have anything like this (except dehydrated mashed potato). I remember the jingle ” for mash, get smash!”
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