Monday, 28 February 2011

Mario Mushroom Mat

I got an email from G today, he has been doing more creative things with hama beads and had made this....

Isn't he gorgeous? and the mat isn't bad either.

Saturday, 26 February 2011

All along the watchtower

On Saturday night we went to the Knob, It was dry and chilly and the kind of weather I love. We enjoyed Spirit of the Experience, met some new people for a natter and Wally made me a spicy orange drink that tasted wonderful.





Friday, 25 February 2011

Dead Belgian

Last night we saw Dead Belgian at The Trades Club in Hebden Bridge, and very Gallic and wonderful it was too. My compagnons consumed rather a lot of something called ghost ale and I would agree that it's effects were quite errrm...spiritual.

Here is compagnon Jon sleeping it off in stripes...awww

Thursday, 24 February 2011

Sunshine on our street

Had the window open and everything today...I feel the tide is turning towards spring at last

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Tuesday, 22 February 2011

Monday, 21 February 2011


ache (k)
intr.v. ached, ach·ing, aches
1. To suffer a dull, sustained pain.
2. To feel sympathy or compassion.
3. To yearn painfully: refugees who ached for their homeland.
1. A dull, steady pain. See Synonyms at pain.
2. A longing or desire; a yen.
3. A painful sorrow.

[Middle English aken, from Old English acan.]

Sunday, 20 February 2011

Saturday, 19 February 2011


I have finally uploaded our official wedding photographs to Facebook where they can be viewed in full by anyone.

Album one can be found here and album two here

All images courtesy of John Burrows who is not only a very professional and talented photographer, but a very beautiful soul.

Friday, 18 February 2011

Everybody Knows

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That's how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows that the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died

Everybody talking to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
Everybody knows

Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that you've been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two
Everybody knows you've been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows

And everybody knows that it's now or never
Everybody knows that it's me or you
And everybody knows that you live forever
Ah when you've done a line or two
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old Black Joe's still pickin' cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows

And everybody knows that the Plague is coming
Everybody knows that it's moving fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past
Everybody knows the scene is dead
But there's gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose
What everybody knows

And everybody knows that you're in trouble
Everybody knows what you've been through
From the bloody cross on top of Calvary
To the beach of Malibu
Everybody knows it's coming apart
Take one last look at this Sacred Heart
Before it blows
And everybody knows

Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows

Oh everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows

Everybody knows

Thursday, 17 February 2011

The good shit

The level of pain yesterday could only mean one thing and when I saw a Doctor this morning my suspicions were confirmed and I not only have tonsillitis, but it's all gone a bit septic and horrible, which is why I'm running a temperature, why my throat and neck are all swollen and lumpy and why I'm struggling to sleep and swallow. Such a bugger especially as the latter are two of my favourite things.

So now I have a packetful of penicillin and am wondering why I even put myself through the bother of trying to fight this on my own as I have obviously made things worse and prolonged the agony. All those diktats about not using antibiotics at the drop of a hat because they lose their effectiveness and people being big softies who now just immediately run to the Doctor crying for prescriptions when they don't need them have obviously stuck with me somewhere along the line.

I think the next time my evil tonsil man comes around, I'm just going to trust my instincts and my own past history, which is to say, If I get it, I get it bad, so go get the good shit.

Tuesday, 15 February 2011


This morning as I browse around clutching my coffee and hope it soothes my painful throat I noticed that the Google illustration today was Ernest Shackleton's birthday. I like the occasional illustrations they use *enormously* and so decided to include a handful of recent ones that I found logged here in this wonderful compendium page

Anyway, here are some others I particularly like....

This is for Thomas Edison's birthday on February 11th

and I especially adored the Jules Verne 183rd birthday illustration on February 8th, It's a combination of aquatica and steampunk, both styles I

I also love the word clouds of the 50th anniversary of JFK's inaugural on January 20th, though the man himself does look a little bit...odd.

and the ruby red of coming of age day (Japan) on January 10th

Monday, 14 February 2011

Under the weather

I feel awful :(

I am feeling distinctly sorry for myself as my poor throat has truly begun to feel like it has been seized by an alien being and is no longer quite part of me. The whole area feels strangely swollen and thick and swallowing has become a bit of a pig, but not in the sharp manner of tonsillitis (so far at least) but more like mumps, or at least my memory of mumps.

To my Valentine

More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.

I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than a gin rummy is a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.

As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.

I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you as much as a beggar needs a crutch,
And more than a hangnail irks.

I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As the High Court loathes perjurious oathes,
That's how you're loved by me.

Ogden Nash.

Sunday, 13 February 2011

Saturday, 12 February 2011

A touch of Frost

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Friday, 11 February 2011

Friday on my mind

So, I suddenly realised that I hadn't actually written anything very much here for a week or two and had instead been posting links and music and pictures with very little text, so after two mugs of lavazza, and in no particular order i'm thinking about the things that have happened this week.

There were two pieces of lovely news from friends - one of a new life to come in August and another of recovery.

There was strange kismet with someone I admire enormously about The Saw Doctors, which made me smile about how much the world links up.

Someone else was struggling with work and feeling homesick and trapped and unable to express themselves and I could feel their frustration all those miles away but all I could say was everything will be OK, because it will, right?

There was 'Never let me go' - which I had never heard of until this week when I saw the film being publicised, but recognised the author Kazuo Ishiguro from Remains of the Day. Is it wrong that I immediately wanted to read rather than see it?

So saying, I have requested it from our local library. Because yes, I do use our local library, avidly, and no, of course I don't want to see our libraries being closed.

There was stripeycat nausea and great tiredness with a creeping sniffle.

a hard-working Voodoo with a zombywoof behind the eyes and a cough that wouldn't quit

and continuing avian mutation with Scrib, who, by his own admission, is probably dying.

But it wasn't all bad, there were kisses too.

and although I don't buy into the hallmark cliché of it all, what with Valentines day round the corner, that seems like a good place to leave it.

Wednesday, 9 February 2011


Bigger Trees near Warter
~Painted in oil on 50 separate canvasses and then pieced together, Bigger Trees Near Warter measures 15ft by 40ft and takes up the entire wall of a room at York’s Art Gallery. He painted it from life over six weeks, out in the cold of the East Yorkshire spring, on separate canvases, using a computer so he did not lose sight of the overall picture. It was pretty cold at times, he admits. “But the people in the house (in the picture) kept bringing me out cups of tea.” East Yorkshire continues to inspire him. Which is less than he can say for the UK’s anti-smoking policy. What do you think of York?, a hapless tourism bureau representative asked him. “I don’t come into York very often for the single reason that there is nowhere I can sit down and have a cigarette,” he said.~ (The Press, York News)

Tuesday, 8 February 2011