Tag: Life

What day would I go back to?

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All the days in our lives,

Stretch out at first, then shrink,

Behind us, gone.

No rewind button for life,

No voicemail recording our every word.

Gone, long ago,  barely remembered. ..

What day would I go back to?

To hear parents voices again, and tell them

How much I loved them?

Or the first day at school, tell myself not to be so shy?

Trying to make perfume from rose petals as a child

Or older, wiser, learning to drive.

Time travel is a one way street, into the future.

If I could go back I would be pleased to meet you again.

Maybe visit a few less railways,

And see the sea a few more times.

Go back to holidays in Devon.

If I could go back I would say,

Don’t take that awful job,

Stay safe and well.

Don’t waste your life for a pay packet,

Let’s live and love.

 

Sticks and string

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We went to Archery today and I had a go with a longbow for the first time.

I didn’t take any photos  (I wasn’t that good ) but it felt completely different to the bows we have been using .

Let me explain. We have been using recurve bows. They have a central riser with a cut out in one side so that the arrow flies straight. Then you have two limbs that attach top and bottom which curve back away from the riser. You have to use a stringer to pull the limbs back so you can attach the string. The bows are made of metal and carbon fiber, the arrows are metal or carbon fibre.

I have been using junior bows with either 14 or 16 pounds of pressure on them, that means it only takes a light pressure to pull the sting back sufficiently to shoot the arrows. I’ve hit a few golds but its hard to work out your aim and I have been using sites to try and aim.

So today one if the other archery members had brought along his longbow “a couple I sticks and a string” and that’s basically what it is. No sights, a rubber band round the shaft of the bow if you want to help you aim. The bow is one long peice of wood, usually English Yew which is naturally laminated and springy. No “window” or bend in the wood, so your arrows have to go round the bow,  you have to aim off to get them on target. You also have to make sure that the arrow is the right way round, with the cock feather towards you so the other two don’t catch on the bow. The arrows are wooden with metal tips, and feathers cut down to shape for flights. You have to wear a glove so the arrow which rests on the top of your hand does not leave splinters in you as the arrow is shot. The other change was that the bow was 35 pounds of pressure, more than twice what I have been pulling! It was hard work, my shots were all around the target and I didn’t hit a gold no matter how I tried. I couldn’t hit the middle of the boss  (target). But I really took to it and want to have another try.

 

Surreal canal

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Using the Layout app from Instagram, I created this surreal image using a photo of a local canal with a strange thin building projecting upwards from what appears to be a circular or oval pool, the water was so still it had a lovely reflection on it, and this has added to the final picture.

The building is the edge of an old, derelict, warehouse that stands like a cliff face next to the canal, in the past ware from the pottery would have been transported from the pottery, south and east to the Midlands or north and west to the coast at Liverpool or up to Manchester and beyond. In fact Stoke-on-Trent lies at the heart of the canal system, and was built around the coal, clay and water of this area. Manufacturing of pottery, steel making and coal mining was on a massive scale here. Industrial archaeology will reveal the landscape as an amazing historical treasure trove of creativity. Some of the buildings were lost to demolition and decay, many bottle ovens have gone. The rest have protection orders on them, but are not necessarily being maintained. Warehouses and factories are crumbling. It is sad that history is being lost.

 

summer flavours

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Summer and its flavours,

Crisp and crunchy flowers,

Take us through the hours,

of summer bright and light.

Hot and tasty bowers,

Nasturtium flowers are sour,

But sweet plums ripen here

In the shining Sun.

Before the ripe tomatoes,

Before the mellow mists,

Before the damp of Autumn,

Summer gives its gifts.

Sunshine and wild showers

Heat for many hours

Summer cooks its fruit,

Raspberries and pears.

Oranges and almonds

Appear on our tables

Strawberries of fable

Melt with mint and cream.

Plums and pomegranates

Begonias and daisies,

Lobelia and lemons,

Summer coloured sweet.

Now come the dark days,

Shorter every hour

Equinox is coming

Day will turn  to night.

Never lose the summer

Keep it in your mind.

Smell and taste its wonders

Soon to burst again.

I love the summer,

I love the light,

I hate the winter,

Brings on dark and night.

Too many books?

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How many books is too many? I was counting ours a few years ago and when I got to over 1000 I gave up. We had books in all the rooms except the bathroom but they have also had to be moved out of the kitchen now it’s been modernised. If I could sneak a few cookbooks in I would, but then the books on trains would follow…

What books do I like?

Biography, Science, Astronomy, Autobiography, Physics, Maths, Science Fiction, Science Fantasy, Fantasy, Train books, Novels, Thrillers, Art books. Books about Pottery and Ceramics. Books about photography.

Books I dislike. …I don’t know..

So what do you do when you have a partner who goes out and  buys books from charity shops every week! ..? You send him back with ones to donate.  I have wondered if I should take some to a local second hand book shop but I dont know if they would take them.

I read books at bedtime to help me sleep. Some of the physics ones can send me off in minutes. At the moment I’m reading the Earthsea Quartet by Ursula LeGuin and 1356 by Bernard Cornwell. I have a copy of The Handmaids Tale I bought in the 1980’s by Margaret Atwood, and also The Colour Purple by Alice Walker. One book Richard introduced me to was A Canticle for Leibovitz which is a post apocalyptic story.  It’s very strange.

So yes I love these books, I would never get a kindle or e-book reader. There is something about turning paper pages, without having to charge the battery up just when you are mid chapter, also if you drop a book when you fall asleep it doesn’t break the screen, and yes I have read books in the bath… they can get very soggy!

 

Archery today

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We started going to archery a few months ago, but had to stop because I got busy doing art, or visiting relatives, and Richards back has been playing up.

So we decided to go back today. It was overcast and a bit blustery but we were only shooting arrows over about 20 yards, which isn’t far, even with the junior 16 pound bows we were using. I managed to get a gold and so did my partner, but we were watching the other archers, who are more experienced, shoot 50 and 80 yards.

I decided to have a try at 50 yards, you have to elivate the bow more,  I ended up aiming at the roof of a house. I actually managed to hit the target after trying several shots that either went short or left of the target. As the morning passed we were both getting closer to the gold  (center of the target ).

It’s surprising how tiring it us pulling even a low poundage bow, some if the people there were pulling 40 pound bows. But looking back in history archers could pull far heavier bows than that. They started around age 4 and were given 4 arrows. They then has to practice every day. Archers ended up with massive muscles and deformed backs because of the strain they were putting on them.

At the end of the session we were shooting at the 80 yard target, I was getting tired and my bow arm kept dropping, but despite not hitting the target I was making he distance. My arrows wavered and wiggled as they flew through the air, but they got there. I was shooting with sites but they didn’t help much. I just had to vaguely aim at a clump of trees.

I think we will go back next week….

Bored?

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You know when you are bored when…You decide to take a photo of your empty glass…with your nose because you can’t hold the glass, your tablet and press the shutter on the screen at the same time.

Today consisted of sleeping in till late, cooking lunch, taking some rubbish down to the tip, going shopping, tidying up and reheating yesterdays left overs for our evening meal.

Some days are just boring.

The best thing about today?  Hearing an abridged version of Jaws on Radio 4. Two and a half hours long, some wonderful descriptions in a frightening story, it was read out by a narrator rather than having a cast of characters. Brilliant.

But you say why are you bored?  Why not do something?  Basically because I get tired, and I get down. I don’t think I’m depressed exactly, just looking for my mojo to come back. Sometimes life is like that, especially when you start getting a bit older. The safety of the house is like a warm nest. A warm blanket , easier to snuggle down and ignore the world. …

And the world is wonky at the moment, the politics is bonkers, right wing politicians seem to be ascendant, poverty is increasing. Even the age that people die, which had been increasing in this country has suddenly seen a down turn. And don’t ask me about Brexit (if you have even heard if it) its not something I agree with and 52 percent of the population here voted for it…..climate change is happening, animals are becoming extinct……is it any wonder that as the ×÷=t hits the fan I just need a duvet day sometimes?

I remember as a child going on a march with my mother, I was only 5 or 6 so I can’t remember why, or what it was about. I remember seeing and hearing racism when I was a child and questioning it… now I hide away, turn my face away, look at stupid kitten videos instead! What changes us, what forces impinge on us to stop us caring as much as we did?

I want to be more caring about homelessness, unemployment, benefit cuts, modern day slavery, credit crunches, cuts to education and the NHS. Austerity, privatisation, plastic pollution, nuclear accidents, inflation, food banks, cuts in Police, increases in zero hours contracts.

It’s all too much. They call I compassion fatigue, I call it compassion exhaustion….

We need, all of us, to be more caring, for everyone else, not just ourselves. I’ve tried to help people in my job for years, it all got a bit too much.

So yes, maybe it’s not actual boredom, but an inability to focus because there is too much going on to deal with. Withdrawal from the outside world seems preferable at the moment.

X

Writing….

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Late last night I stared to write a little story about this woman I had drawn, it was called Charlis and it was about her rescuing her village from a flood using powers that she did not realise she had. It was not meant to be a superhero / comic type story, I was hoping it would be deeper than that.

I had got about half way through   (it was only short) and was concentrating on the plot when my tablet ran out of battery power and closed on me. This morning the story has gone.

I find it difficult to write stories, to put myself in other people’s lives. Doing something like this is quite daunting, would it be too verbose?  too convoluted? did it make sense, could I take people with me into the story?

I can’t remember half of what I had written, and I don’t want to inflict something on you that might not be any good.

So what should I do, recreate it, is it worth the hassle?  I tend to write things spontaneously, without any planning.  Late night writing when you are tired is not the best way of going about things. I don’t think I’m much of a writer, I don’t feel my words flow, I am just learning. At least I have age and some experience to fall back on.

I will ponder on this. …

 

Weeping Window

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We visited Middleport pottery in Middleport, Stoke-on-Trent today to see “weeping window” a memorial made of 11,000 ceramic poppies placed on a bottle oven in the pottery. The poppies are some of the ones that were on display previously at the Tower of London and have been travelling around the country for the last couple of years. You are supposed to book a visit but as the number of people going to see the display has reduced we were allowed in without booking. We had to park on a designated car park as the local streets have parking restrictions at the moment and you could get fined.

The poppies commemorate the worth anniversary of the 1st world war,”the war to end all wars” which sadly did not stop humans fighting over and over again as they have since our ancestors first fought many thousands of years ago. Many if the poppies were made in Stoke-on-Trent so its good to see them come home although there was a fight to get them.

The display of poppies cascade down the oven, spreading out on the ground, representing blood and the fallen soldiers that were killed in the war.

I drew the scene but had to slightly shorten the bottle kiln to fit it on the page. I also struggled to represent so many poppies. We then visited the rest of the pottery, including the steam engine although it was not working today. There was quite a crowd so I only sketched it briefly.

On our return to the car park there was a large poster with the poem by John McCrae written in 1915. I decided to draw my own version of a poppy to go along with it.

Middleport pottery is very interesting, there is a museum on site, plus artists and ceramicists with their own studios. The tea shop was very busy but we managed to get a table. There was also a display by students from clay college who are doing a two year full time course to learn the skills of pottery making before they are forgotten.

Although the weeping window display ends in mid September the pottery is well worth a visit. It’s surprising how much goes on round here!

Bump in the night

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Ever since I was burgled years ago I have been very sensitive to hearing sounds at night, especially when they should not be there.  Hearing car doors open, or little thudding noises attract me towards the front door!

The neighbour bangs his windows shut late at night and that makes me jump, then the cats race round chasing each other, like a herd of elephants up and down the stairs….

But its the little subtle noises outside that get me, not the noise of someone using our wheelie bin to put their empty beer can in….but the creaks and groans from the tree branches near the house, quiet footsteps passing the front door. Then a sudden screech of brakes as a car comes down the hill too fast.

We have whistling windows so when its windy you can hear the whoosh of air hitting the house, I actually quite like that. Occasionally there is the sound of cats fighting, or the strange squeal of foxes. All this in an urban area.

Sometimes I go outside with a torch,  I imagine I am scary enough to frighten an intruder off…. the only thing that happens then is I end up walking on slugs or snails as the garden is quite overgrown……

What noises are right and what are wrong?  The gate opening is wrong, rattling noises by the side window, the metallic clunk of the gate bolt moving…..milk bottles by the gate rattling are all wrong…,what’s right? Birdsong late at night, don’t hear it as much at this time of year. Friendly voices of people passing on their way home, not the rowdy shouting we sometimes hear.

I realise there is a lot more going on out there than I thought. Better than tinnitus though!

Night all x