Seen last week. A mackerel sky? Or like waves on a beach or ripples in sand. One thing mimics another. There are only a few shapes in the world, so there is repetition. The Greeks had shapes that nested inside each other called platonic solids.
Wikipedia says:
The ancient Greeks studied the Platonic solids extensively. Some sources (such as Proclus) credit Pythagoras with their discovery. Other evidence suggests that he may have only been familiar with the tetrahedron, cube, and dodecahedron and that the discovery of the octahedron and icosahedron belong to Theaetetus, a contemporary of Plato. In any case, Theaetetus gave a mathematical description of all five and may have been responsible for the first known proof that no other convex regular polyhedra exist.
80 years ago, on the 8th of May 1945, Hitler was defeated in the second world war. But that was only in Europe, the war actually ended on 2nd September of the same year when Japan surrendered.
It’s significant that it is the 80th year as it is probably the last time that many veterans from the war will be able to celebrate it because if they were 21 (start of adulthood) when they joined up they would be 101 or older now.
Memories fade but this is a way to remember the joy of the ending of the conflict, although not for everyone. We should remember those that were injured or wounded, either in the military or civilian. Those that were made homeless or those that lost relatives and friends. I’m glad and sad in equal measure.
An old lamppost and a partially demolished 1960s or 70s building. The question is which is, ancient and which is modernish? The reason why I ask is because replica lampposts are sometimes used as urban street furniture. Obviously it’s looked smarter in the past, but hopefully this development will be an improvement?
Blimey! I’ve just had a new bed delivered. My old one way about Xx years old (too embarrassed to mention it’s actual age). What a palaver! Moving furniture and boxes out the way. Making sure there were no trip hazards in the way. Emptying divan drawers of stuff that could have come out of the ark, were those cushions from the 1980s? Then because I’ve gone from a king-size to a double do I need to get new sheets and a duvet? do I need new or will the old ones do? Will it be too soft or too hard? A friend of mine has given it me and she lives miles away so I didn’t get a chance to try it out. All I can say is that it looked comfy as the men carried it upstairs, but I’m too tired to get up there and try it out!
I’ve just watched the film Warhorse, directed by Steven Speilberg. It’s the story of a part thoroughbred foal that is bought by a farmer who’s rivalry with his landlord causes him to buy the young horse for more than he can afford.
The farmers son trains the horse to pull a plough and work around the farm. But his father sells it to help save the farm.
The horse, Joey, is transported to France where it becomes part of the British Army and fights in the first world war. In the meantime the farmers son Albie joins up and goes to France to search for his friend. The story has a series of incidents where awful things happen to the boy and Joey. Will they find each other? I won’t say!
The story was originally on in the theatre, the horse and other animals were puppets, the main horse was supported and moved by two men and was made of a lattice work of plastic? strips that gave the impression of a horse.
It’s an excellent story and both theatre production and film brought tears to my eyes.
An old pub in Penkhull, Stoke-on-Trent. It was once the local court house where trials used to take place. This is my photo of its public house sign.
From The Potteries.org website:
The Greyhound Inn, Penkhull pen drawing by Neville Malkin – Dec 1975 “Opposite the west door of Penkhull church is the 16th century Greyhound Inn, a building that incorporates the former courthouse of the manor of Newcastle-under-Lyme.
During the Middle Ages the castle at Newcastle was the venue for manorial courts, but the building became increasingly unsafe, and the meeting place was transferred to Stoke, where courts were being held in the middle years of Elizabeth Ist’s reign. The court moved again in the 1580s when it was first incorporated into the Greyhound at Penkhull. Towards the end of her reign the court moved back again to Stoke where it continued to be held until the mid-1620s, when it appears to have been held alternately at Stoke and Penkhull; from 1635 to about 1817 all courts were normally held at Penkhull, except a small one at Clayton. By 1829 courts were being held at the Wheatsheaf Hotel in Stoke, and from 1854 the court was held in Hanley.
The Greyhound, which is now covered in stucco, was largely rebuilt in 1936, with parts of the original 16th century wooden frame structure being preserved. The main block, which runs parallel with the main road, and a small back wing, are still of timber construction but the two-floor cross-wing at the south end has been entirely rebuilt in brick. A massive chimney between the two main blocks originally had stone fireplaces with four centred arches on both floors, but in 1936 the one in the central bar was replaced by that from the room above. A small room at the north end of the building has original 16th century panelling, partly reset, and a courtroom with oak benches around the walls; a seat for the presiding official is said to have been in existence until the major alterations of 1936. I am also told that the cellars were at one time used for the lock-up, where prisoners awaiting trial were held.”
Neville Malkin 17th Dec 1975
I hope it’s OK to publish this information. I will delete if I breaching copyright.
Somewhere in the world a young woman looks at the Earth and sees what? The fact that over the decades women have risen to the heights of politics. Prime ministers and Presidents. Some have done better than others. It does after all depend on what their politics are and what the team ability to govern is like.
That young woman may not be interested in politics, it may be boring, it may be too dominated by men. But she should have a chance to learn and decide if she wants to get involved
Unfortunately there is a lot of mysogenistic behaviour in the world. I hope if she wants to, she can be involved.
A pier stretches out into the water, a grand hotel sits behind it on the shore. Drive round the coast and rise up to the summit by road, or use the tram service, which takes you past a bronze age copper mine. Or up the cable cars to the summit cafe. There is a small nature reserve at the top where indigenous plants are encouraged to grow. The mountain stands above Llandudno in North Wales. The town itself has grand terraces of three and four storey houses, hotels and apartments. Many of them from when the town was a Victorian resort and tourists arrived on steam engines. A good place for a day out.
The trees are full of leaves, bulky and heavy laden. They clean the air, drawing in carbon dioxide and producing oxygen. I hate to think of when these trees will be gone. They may become aged and diseased. I think of them 50 years ago, how big were they then? Saplings or bigger? How old are they. What is their life expectancy? I hope they see the next century safely. Their dark green canopies giving continued shelter even as the climate heats up.
I think we mainly assume that a hero will be called Prince Caspian or something similar. Being of noble blood, and handsome. Fairytale books and films lead us to this definition. Only stories like Beauty and the Beast where at the end the Beast turns into a handsome Prince slightly subverts this.
But what happens if the hero has an ordinary or odd name? Maybe Euphonio Grunt-Ffungus? His name being a long lost memory from generations ago of the families profession of truffle hunting!
What heroical task would Euphonio complete? Would he rescue a cat from on top of a giraffe? Fight off a venomous kangaroo? Hide chocolate from a dragon? Kill a giant spider that’s threatening to engulf the palace?
I think this kind of hero would be in a comic fantasy, not a serious story. But we cannot chose our names, let alone our ancestors.
Mallaband-Brown 