tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12940262306800251552012-02-02T16:37:01.684ZFrikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.comBlogger5431100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-10914520239527487682012-01-31T21:09:00.000Z2012-01-31T21:11:35.622Z

Part I and Part II Fish 'n' Chips is one of Great Britain's towering successes; 'chippies' are everywhere, not only in the UK but, by virtue of empire and tourism, in far-flung places all over the globe. The first fish-and-chip shop in London was opened in 1860. Nowadays there are chippies who sell you a curry or a 'Chinese', and always saveloys, a highly spiced, reddish brown sausage;  the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-17443801551176809092012-01-30T22:15:00.001Z2012-01-30T22:19:53.448Z

There are times when following the evidence of your own eyes is not only much less costly, but also helps you to avoid getting stuck. This is my contribution to Our World.  Go and have a look at the others.

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-55215558807763416062012-01-28T18:14:00.000Z2012-01-28T18:14:38.309Z

Helleborus opening With January nearly over and the days ever so slowly brightening, social life in Valley's End is revving up a notch. On a sunny day like today people stop in the street for a chat, others call out greetings and remarks about the weather to each other across the roadway; January is dreary and dark, and nobody feels much like entertaining. Perhaps the bright social whirl

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-16938196480151373532012-01-25T14:02:00.000Z2012-01-25T14:02:30.589Z

There are no children in the playground on this bright and sunny, but bracing, day. Perhaps the wind is too cold for them? Or, more than likely, for their minders? Children don't feel the cold when they are running around, but adults idly sitting on benches do. But aconites and snowdrops are willing to brave the sharp winds and stick their heads above ground. Even the daffodils

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-17699016156728075272012-01-23T22:37:00.002Z2012-01-25T14:03:45.385Z

We rarely get a sunny and dry day in January.  Benno and I took a camera out to see if there had been any changes since we last ventured forth. Sheep are still grazing in the Lower Pastures. The river is back in his bed. The meadows are  dry enough for rubber boots; we no longer sink in above the ankles.  The castle ruin is still standing; What do you think, should

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com57tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-16435581326707957962012-01-22T21:26:00.000Z2012-01-22T21:26:13.097Z

Tess Kincaid's Magpie Tales Mag 101 You could at least have ironed the wrapping paper! And where's the bow?

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-4338174639873345762012-01-21T12:58:00.002Z2012-01-21T13:00:13.285Z

"What!?" Dumbfounded, I stared at her. The Nigerians too were rooted to the spot, frozen in mid-movement. Faces of other workers turned to us expectantly.  Lightyears separated hearing the words and grasping their meaning; my face creased with concentration, I repeated "What?" The concept of whores was fairly new to me; I had an idea that women who sold sex for money were called 'whores' or '

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-81194465859976399072012-01-19T17:47:00.001Z2012-01-19T18:22:35.262Z

When a green girl leaves her rigid and narrow home for the first time, all sorts of things can happen, particularly if this clueless innocent moves from a mid sized provincial town in one country to a vast metropolis in another country, which has recently embraced a new, swinging age of free love, drug experimentation and above all, the birth of counter-culture and social revolution.  For

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-91800672981321936492012-01-16T17:57:00.000Z2012-01-16T17:58:56.570Z

While I was wrestling with the taxman this morning our friend Stephen Tunnicliffe came round to bring me a copy of a delightful little series of poems he wrote last year,  describing the five senses as experienced by children. I didn't mind at all being interrupted, it's been a day for 'mopping up' leftover jobs, satisfying when all is done but not very exciting. Here is one of Stephen's

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-62434771807383325942012-01-14T19:04:00.000Z2012-01-14T19:05:32.002Z

On this misty, frosty Saturday morning the sun finally came out at about eleven and the twigs on the laburnum and amelanchier were still clothed in their festive winter finery. I'd hate a garden without trees and shrubs, what would I have to look at in winter? I've been trying to do my income tax return online this morning - late as usual - but also as usual, the HMRC website refused me

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-35520955150646074432012-01-11T16:26:00.000Z2012-01-12T23:00:15.090Z

Not easy, this writing lark. In fact, it's downright hard. For years I've translated other people's words, written reports for conferences, political tracts, articles and polemical essays. I've written long letters and journals. But I've never written anything which is entirely about myself. This blog is my first experience of writing in the first person singular. First thing to admit is that

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-62868787700142738612012-01-08T16:57:00.000Z2012-01-12T22:59:57.709Z

Tess Kincaid's Mag 99 Image: Lee Friedlander Why do you stand there, looking down your nose at me; in your fancy coat and knee breeches, hands folded piously. What are you doing in this world of tall buildings,  traffic fumes, eyeless windows, flashing images and bleached skies. This is my world, your day has long gone. Standing on your pedestal, lifeless and immobile,

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-27347239207889901482012-01-05T17:32:00.000Z2012-01-05T18:21:42.549Z

Dionysos Mosaic E is for eating . . . . not food, not nourishment, not survival, but eating; or, as that old devil Ambrose Bierce has it: Eat, v.i.,  to perform successively (and successfully) the functions of mastication, humectation and deglutition. (Chewing, moistening and swallowing) A very suitable subject for examination after a period of almost obligatory excess. On Christmas Day

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-63730454755244847792012-01-03T17:23:00.000Z2012-01-04T22:10:44.913Z

   We were very short of water this summer; in fact, a drought was announced. Hose pipe bans were in force and the field by the river was parched, farmers prayed for rain and the soil was cracked and dusty. I remember it well. This picture was taken in early spring,  even then the river was low. This morning I went out with Benno for our usual walk in the field by the river.

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-15234405718335364742012-01-02T18:18:00.000Z2012-01-11T14:27:55.199Z

Well I never, this post made Hilary's POTW! Remember, first of all, you are no better and no worse than anyone. You are human, not super-human, not less than human, Just human. As good as anyone else. Once considered tall, at the head of every line-up in school, you've shrunk a little, the people coming after you having grown taller than those who lived before you. Capable

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com60tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-43757152377524256132011-12-28T19:49:00.000Z2011-12-28T22:29:18.225Z

Snowdrops in the garden on Christmas Day. Today was the first (almost) ordinary day after the Christmas holidays. Many of you have expressed joy at life returning to normal, may I join you? Here in the UK the holidays aren't quite over, shops are open, of course, but many offices remain closed. Before I retired, my last working day was Dec 23rd and we didn't return to work until Jan 2nd.

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-64150456559297882902011-12-28T17:05:00.001Z2011-12-28T22:32:15.912Z

Is anyone else having serious problems posting, commenting, etc? I'm using a different computer from my usual desktop to post this. Problems started soon after the new dashboard became universal. It could be my imac, but that is surely unheard of? An imac going wrong?

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-52423699939486493172011-12-22T12:00:00.000Z2011-12-22T17:55:29.182Z

Zyklus der Monate  -  Dezember Meister Albert - 1400 The Sun enters the House of Capricorn. 'The man born under Capricorn shall be iracundious* and a fornicator; a liar, and always labouring. He shall be a governor of beasts with four feet. He shall suffer much sorrow in his youth, but shall leave many goods and riches. He shall have great peril at sixteen years. He shall be rich by

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-11656419988433804402011-12-20T18:20:00.000Z2011-12-22T17:56:59.726Z

Ludlow Food Centre  is one of those wonderful places where you can browse for the best and freshest produce, organic meat from beasts reared locally, hand made pies and ready meals actually cooked fresh on the premises, breads, pastries and cakes baked in the ovens at the bakehouse and vegetables from farms in the surrounding areas. There's even honey from the beehives in the back

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-67746967791246155622011-12-18T22:41:00.000Z2011-12-18T22:41:05.559Z

Tess Kincaid's Magpie Tale Prompt No. 96 Hel --- lo there, little one!  Hello? What's your name then, handsome boy? Erm, my name is Max. Why? That's a pretty name for a pretty boy; How are you, pretty boy? I'm, Err, fine, thank you, lady. How are you? What lovely manners you have, little one. Would you like me to buy you an ice cream? Erm, I don't know. My mum

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-8839121894769101072011-12-17T19:10:00.002Z2011-12-17T19:10:49.309Z

No, I've not gone mad. Since coming home from hospital I seem to have been racing around like a woman possessed. Of course, I took a few days off at first, tried to relax and recover my strength, but common sense didn't prevail for long. Living where we do, way out of civilisation, in the hills, and at the back of beyond, shopping trips take most of the day. No popping into town for me, no

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com61tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-72240758908675337152011-12-12T21:16:00.000Z2011-12-12T21:16:00.954Z

My daughter went on a very short weekend trip across the Channel to visit the Christmas Market at one of my favourite German cities, Charles the Great's city of Aachen. Charlemagne, as he is known in French and English, started to build his Imperial Cathedral in the year 792  and Pope Leo III consecrated it in 805. The core of the cathedral is the Palatine Carolingian Chapel; it is small

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com67tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-26703176081912671812011-12-11T18:53:00.000Z2011-12-11T18:53:17.873Z

Tess Kincaid's MAGPIE PROMPT No. 95 On the banks of the River of Woe,Forsaken by the gods,I await your return from Hades,O Charon.Sullen and wrathful my life,In death condemned To wanderThese shores,My soul yearns for release. I beseech you,O Charon,Ferry me across the dark riverTo the mouth of Hades,And the Adamantine GatesGuarded by Cerberus,Take me toEternal blissIn the Elysian Fields.My Obol

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-46305092264417785282011-12-08T22:41:00.001Z2011-12-08T22:44:44.813Z

I saw this heading (without the 'Help')  at Freda's of What's the story in Dalamory, who in turn found it on Dianne's of Schmiddleyscribblins;  as my ideas for blogging seem to have dried up completely, I'll make use of it here. If anybody else finds themselves in the same shoes, feel free to do likewise. Now then,  counting my blessings is anathema to me. I've always railed against it as an

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-61068802002497841402011-12-06T00:49:00.000Z2011-12-06T00:49:36.569Z

A vaguely anaesthetic smell, cold, clinical, unpleasantly obtrusive, brought by two burly men, dark blue and hearty, into your home; machines which  blip and click clutter your floor. As you invited them, you must allow them to remove you to the place where bright lights cut into your eyes, the scarlet of your jumper flagging up the immaculate wasteland of A&E. Blue men deposit you and leave,

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com60tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-79535532059070861352011-12-02T18:03:00.000Z2011-12-02T18:03:24.969Z

This is an article I wrote for a local paper.Normal service will be resumed shortly.I've been ill and without a computer. Although back home and feeling much better,I haven't got enough energy to come and visit all my lovely friends; it'll take me a while to get round to all of you.And there I was, hoping to collect enough stories, reminiscences and poems for anotherAdvent calendar for you and

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-34722498924361900892011-11-28T12:56:00.000Z2011-11-28T12:56:15.936Z

Tess Kincaid's Magpie No. 93 Red Setter?o-o-o Sofa and no further?o-o-o I know they've cancelled half the busservices, but this is ridiculous.o-o-o No? Not funny?Very well, but I can't think of anything elseexcept 'this is where you catch the couch to Chesterfield'!

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com55tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-50454180953662203202011-11-26T17:00:00.000Z2011-11-26T17:00:31.115Z

Painting by Stipan Tadic The Blogosphere has been awash with expressions of gratitude during the past week. To have one day in the year when families,  communities, indeed a whole nation, unite in appreciation of the good things in life, is truly wonderful, and I hope that kind of special awareness does not evaporate as soon as the last farewells have been said and the dishes have been washed

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-43243141205335345232011-11-23T23:19:00.000Z2011-11-23T23:19:56.585Z

Ciclo dei Mesi - 1400Meister AlbertNovember oo oo  oo No sun - no moon! No morn - no noon - No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day. No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, No comfortable feel in any member - No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds! -  November! Thomas Hood - 1844 oo oo oo We had another visit to the Eye Clinic,

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-79179327540628852242011-11-21T21:28:00.000Z2011-11-21T21:28:06.844Z

"Oh dear", I said. "What is it?" Beloved asked. "Nothing. Everything"' I replied. "That's sad", he said. I was sitting at the kitchen table. We'd finished a simple supper, but there had been a glass of wine. The kitchen was warm and still, the lamp was pulled low over the table and we sat in a cosy pool of light. I had the perpetual birthday calendar in front of me. It's gardener's

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-41997972725882837962011-11-20T23:04:00.001Z2011-11-20T23:10:02.413Z

Tess Kincaid's Magpie Tale No. 92For other responses, click on the prompt. Once upon a time, in a far distant kingdom, there lived a beautiful princess. Beautiful princesses live in castles, and Dornröschen,  for that was her name, was no exception. Life was good, Dornröschen was not only very pretty, but also a good girl. As in so many far distant lands of the time, a very wicked witch also

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-61860544705766731292011-11-18T18:21:00.002Z2011-11-19T09:32:54.766Z

Do you do what I do, namely, collect things? Souvenirs, programmes, ticket stubs, magazines, ancient photographs, postcards, thank you notes, wish-you-were-here cards? If you do, how often do you look at any of these?  Take them out of their boxes? Even just dust them or sort them? My enthusiasm for buying a programme at every event we attend, whether concert, play, opera, or anything else, is

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-84126369109233172212011-11-15T17:51:00.001Z2011-11-15T20:35:10.644Z

Our World Tuesday Week 12 took me to the little town of Craven Arms, which calls itself the Gateway to the Shropshire Hills. The Secret Hills  Discovery Centre  takes you 4,500 million years back in time. There are exhibitions and displays and when you've had enough of lectures and a wonderful hot air balloon flight over the awe-inspiring Shropshire Hills in the company of our erstwhile

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-85950425539446463502011-11-13T23:17:00.000Z2011-11-13T23:17:24.856Z

Tess Kincaid's Magpie No. 91 Are you sure it was today?

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-59626847835093078862011-11-12T12:35:00.000Z2011-11-12T12:35:14.740Z

Yesterday was Martinmas, the festival of winter's beginning; the day when German children carry lanterns in procession through the streets following  St Martin, a very good and kind-hearted man, riding a white horse to the church, where they come upon a poor beggar shivering on the church steps. St Martin, with a great flourish, takes off his warm cloak, draws his sword and cuts the cloak in

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com58tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-37869986320258432612011-11-09T22:01:00.000Z2011-11-09T22:01:55.339Z

Sun and Moon  -  Hartmann Schedel 1440-1514  -  Nuremburg Chronicle  "A day is a unit of time, commonly defined as an interval equal to 24 hours. It also can mean that portion of the full day during which a location is illuminated by the light of the sun. The period of time measured from local noon to the following local noon is called a solar day." This is how Wikipedia starts the entry for

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-57873735277345799322011-11-07T21:58:00.001Z2011-11-07T21:59:41.335Z

It was a cold morning today, garden and castle meadow were bedecked with rime, and the tops of the hills having disappeared into a grey mist,  the great outdoors  looked hardly inviting. But we were due for the post-op examination of Beloved's eye at the hospital in Shrewsbury, which meant that we were having our breakfast muesli rather earlier than usual. Benno was lying between kitchen table

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-84387796190830518062011-11-04T12:58:00.000Z2011-11-04T12:58:40.829Z

Thank you everybody for commenting on the previous post about my intention to write a memoir. I'd like to say right away, that I won't stop blogging,  I am an addict. I will also try and visit my followers' blogs and anybody else who leaves an interesting or constructive comment. Perhaps it would be of general interest if I post an occasional progress report; there are a number of people in the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com51tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-48959771057593453912011-11-02T19:14:00.000Z2011-11-02T19:14:34.461Z

Some weeks are very quiet, nothing at all out of the ordinary happens and going grocery shopping is about as exciting as it gets. Weeks that feel a bit like pulling a steam engine uphill by a strap over your shoulder. (I had to get a picture in, even though there will be no further mention of steam engines and they have absolutely nothing to do with this post) Then there are weeks that are

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-11062639116820487692011-10-30T17:53:00.000Z2011-10-30T17:53:23.467Z

Tess Kincaid's Magpie Prompt No. 89 It was still dark outside, a thin shard of a paler shade of black was beginning to creep round the edge of the curtains drawn across the window. Not long now, and he would be with me. Snug under my covers, I could hear him move about in the room next door, the room where he spent his afternoons and evenings. Sometimes, of course, he left the house altogether,

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-57939369217145920732011-10-27T18:37:00.000+01:002011-10-27T18:37:00.890+01:00

I don't agree that love is a human right but that would make a different post. An afternoon fundraiser without a White Elephant stall! In fact, there are no stalls visible of any kind. I'm relieved;  I have felt pressured into buying unwanted presents, off-loaded by ungrateful recipients, too many times in the past to feel guilty at spurning them;  rather than buying somebody's unloved

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-68869384980224099382011-10-26T12:12:00.000+01:002011-10-26T12:12:56.989+01:00

This came in the post,a coaster, which apparently reminded two very unkindCanadian bloggers of me. Deborah and Kathryn,I realise that making fun of fellow bloggerssafely, from a distance,is relatively easy; had you been close at hand, I might have used the rake with violent intent. My polka-dotted dressis strictly Sunday best; For the gardenI prefer tartan. Just to prove that I may be down

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-79965532586976506892011-10-23T23:53:00.004+01:002011-10-25T11:12:19.137+01:00

October  Meister AlbertZyklus der Monate  From a group of frescoes in the  Torre dell'Aquila, Castello del Buonconsiglio di Trento. Sun enters the House of Scorpio 'The man born under Scorpio shall have good fortune. He shall be a great fornicator, and the first wife he shall have in marriage shall become too religious. He shall suffer pain in his privy members at fifteen years old. He shall

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-42602146992268518902011-10-21T17:11:00.000+01:002011-10-21T17:11:08.419+01:00

Farce: A light dramatic work in which highly improbable plot situations, exaggerated characters, and often slapstick elements are used for humorous effect.  (Answers.com) I think I'd better give up, and let yesterday's farce be the last one for me in this lifetime.  I just don't get it. While everyone else was practically rolling in the aisles, wetting themselves, I sat there, like the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-54619618245128269392011-10-19T20:50:00.000+01:002011-10-19T20:50:51.686+01:00

How often are you dirty and sweaty enough to need that shower or bath? After having squeezed the last spongeful of gel out of the bottle for my morning shower, I opened the cupboard to get a replacement. Shampoos, conditioners, tablets of soap, bath foam, all present and correct, but no shower gel. For some reason it had got left off the shopping list. The gel I use is quite ordinary,

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-88734683964988495732011-10-17T14:07:00.001+01:002011-10-17T16:17:57.997+01:00

Gardener clearing leaves last autumn The compost heaps need turning. Gardener is still on sick leave, and there's nobody else whom I would trust with my compost heaps.  He empties them, shovelful after shovelful, takes out all the bits which haven't finished composting;  all the nasty white roots, which are just waiting to pounce and turn into perennial weeds, end up in a special little pile.

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-51641085852892599562011-10-16T16:22:00.000+01:002011-10-16T16:22:45.165+01:00

Tess Kincaid's MAGPIE No. 87 Sneak a Pe(e)k in Duck Shop!

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-39541568511596167542011-10-14T20:14:00.000+01:002011-10-14T20:14:52.184+01:00

Five hundred times my shadow touched the world wide web,with thought and story, laughter, tears and image.Where did each shadow go? Each time my finger bid the cursor send the shadow on its way,I hoped that someone, somewhere, saw me flit across their screen,arrest the movement for a moment,and share my thought.my story, tears or laughter. If you then came to tell me that you liked what was on

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com70tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-84689312141793069392011-10-12T23:58:00.000+01:002011-10-12T23:58:33.529+01:00

Market Hall, Shrewsbury The last traces of the week of woe have been tidied up, health problems are resolved and most importantly, we have a new fridge freezer, which is doing its job. I know how boring it can be when  bloggers tell each other about mundane trivialities of daily life, but bear with me, this is my excuse for having been absent for a few days and not visiting. All shall be

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-5658554491416347742011-10-09T18:19:00.000+01:002011-10-09T18:19:40.338+01:00

Magpie No. 86Tess Kincaid's Prompt for Oct 9th Image: Michael Sowa - from the Little King I always knew it couldn't last, they were just too different. She wanted the paper early in the morning, he wanted to sit over a leisurely cup of coffee mid-morning, and have what the Brits call  'elevenses', while slowly perusing and neatly folding back page after page. She wanted to hear the thud of the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-3841591575946247472011-10-07T18:30:00.000+01:002011-10-07T18:30:41.992+01:00

New season, new school year, new writing group. Who said I give up easily? After the fiasco with the Creative Writing Class last spring, I thought I'd see who else might have it in for my style of writing, so why not give the newly founded Creative Writing Group of the local  u3a a try?  Most of you will know that U3A stands for University of the Third Age and is open, free of charge, to

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-34670851274137088912011-10-05T15:10:00.000+01:002011-10-05T15:10:17.007+01:00

At Rehearsal Mud From A ScraperNo. 4 in an Occasional Series "I say 'silver sound', because musicians sound for silver"Shakespeare The first rule that must be learnt by those who would understand the character of musicians is that few members of an orchestra are interested in music. Each plays his instrument because that is his trade - because that is the job for which he is physically and

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-9351680917255025502011-10-03T20:49:00.002+01:002011-10-03T21:00:35.321+01:00

Crows and buzzardswhirl above the ancient stonesin angry circles,their dissonant disputesconcerning ownershipof pockmarked, eyeless wallsas merciless as bitter centuries of war   fought by the marcher lords before them. A Marcher Lord is the English equivalent of a margrave in the Holy Roman empire. In this context the word march means a border region or frontier, and is ultimately derived

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-91900175318409335522011-10-01T14:54:00.002+01:002011-10-01T18:18:21.450+01:00

The unfurling stem of this white autumn cyclamen looks like a small snake uncurling its sinuous body. Those of you for whom snakes in the garden are commonplace will no doubt put me right. As I have never seen a snake here, this pretender will have to do. You can even see the tongue,  unfortunately unforked, testing for whatever snakes test their environment for. The October Bunting is

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com55tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-20754383080454194812011-09-28T22:24:00.000+01:002011-09-28T22:24:20.507+01:00

Who's a bigot, me? Elderly couple having lunch with very elderly and deaf parent. Woman: "I really don't like it when two of a kind adopt." Parent: "Eh?" Woman, a little louder: "You know, two of a kind, it's not natural, when they adopt." Parent: "What?" Woman, louder still: "Two men or two women, they shouldn't, you know, adopt, little ones." Parent: "What's that you're saying?"

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com46tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-66398355363724490832011-09-26T15:19:00.000+01:002011-09-26T15:19:31.248+01:00

Tess Kincaid's Magpie No. 84Woman In The Rain The land was burning.There had been no rain for the whole of an exceptionally hot summer;grass on the hillsides turned dry and brown, leaving sheep and cattle without feed;hedges and verges grew dusty and trees lost their lustre.Desperate and exhausted, the people turned to the Rainwitch for help. Their plight moved her heart.(She was one of the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-78251663014723053722011-09-24T21:11:00.000+01:002011-09-24T21:11:19.923+01:00

Ciclo dei Mesi - 1397September Chaenomeles The fruits of the Japanese Quince are very hard and astringent, inedible in their raw state. But roughly chopped and cooked for a long time they become soft and mushy, and can be used for marmalades and jellies. Japanese quinces contain more pectin than apples and true quinces and will set readily. Tusan Hypericum androsaemum (St John's Wort) '

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-75948259365512031302011-09-23T00:06:00.000+01:002011-09-23T00:06:29.736+01:00

Sometimes you have to live through the sort of week which you would gladly wish on your worst enemy, just so you yourself didn't have to see another day of it. And then something reminds you that in the midst of all the chaos, stress, doom and gloom there is always someone stepping up to the plate and saying: "I'll help" and nothing is quite as bad as you feared. Thursday to Thursday has been

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com56tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-9587727300770937682011-09-20T12:23:00.013+01:002011-09-20T12:43:34.003+01:00

Day by the day,unmistakable signs herald the advent of autumn;tenderly, soft mists embrace fields yielding their final harvestbefore they merge,seamlessly, into the weathering sky.    Peonies, defyingthe laws of nature,assume a coat of glowing colours,their red-veined leaves betraying a zest for life,yet to be stilled. Horse Chestnuts weep a gentle rain ofyellow leavesupon the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-4601987520639542242011-09-19T00:49:00.000+01:002011-09-19T00:49:00.978+01:00

The Snake Charmer - Henri Rousseau Tess Kincaid's Magpie No. 83 There once was a child whose mother gave her a bowl of milk and bread every afternoon. Each afternoon the mother warned the child not to go too far from the house and to beware of strangers with sweet voices, whose siren song might lure her astray. The child took the bowl into the deepest part of the garden, where she sat down in

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-55317537032681544442011-09-17T14:20:00.000+01:002011-09-17T14:20:45.155+01:00

Journeyby Jay Diamond Yesterday, my friend Jay of Jay's Pet Portraits,  greeted me with the above words, saying they'd be the perfect title for  a blogpost. She has a point. For those of you who might have been wondering whether Friko Has Left The Building without even a by-your-leave, I can report on something which appears to be becoming an annual event: a short stay in hospital.  Run any

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-22916568927613668462011-09-12T20:09:00.000+01:002011-09-12T20:09:47.251+01:00

The RevenantAndrew Wyeth - 1949 Tess Kincaid's Magpie Tale No. 82 The Rev. E. Nant  had enjoyed his funeral tremendously. His wife had followed every word of the instructions he had left behind about the big day; the ceremony had done him great honour and the whole congregation had taken part. It might have had something to do with the promise of a lavish celebration of his life after the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com57tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-29569164039328543822011-09-10T00:00:00.000+01:002011-09-10T00:00:47.968+01:00

Dianne's post at schmidleyscribblins showed me a world of experiences, trials and tribulations with criminal elements, vandals and hooligans, even rapists and murderers, which is a million miles removed from the world here at Valley's End, described by the poet A.E. Housman  as "the quietest under the sun". The last murder in the valley, or the last murder which was recognised as such,

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-14738205508073537432011-09-07T19:42:00.001+01:002011-09-08T00:17:07.117+01:00

Loriot   Nov 12, 1923-Aug 22, 2011 At some dinner parties the most wonderful conversations, clever and witty, erudite and eloquent arise spontaneously, out of nowhere. A host with a lavish hand and an ever ready bottle opener, good food and a company of people who share a positive attitude towards the pleasures in life are essentials; without these as givens no party will ever really take off.

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-87956535032913373202011-09-05T00:05:00.003+01:002011-09-05T00:25:05.272+01:00

Tess Kincaid's Magpie No. 81Abandoned Farm Mark Lassiter parked the brand-spanking-new Mercedes in his designated parking space by the entrance to the shiny new office building. He regretted having come in his new car instead of using his shabby and worn old truck.The track from the main road to what he still called the farm was deeply rutted, heavy machinery and trucks had deepened the old

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-89681235328227526182011-09-03T00:02:00.001+01:002011-09-03T00:27:06.947+01:00

Heath Chapel is arguably the most famous church in Shropshire. Virtually unaltered for 900 years it is perched all alone in a field on the side of Brown Clee Hill.  This impressively simple Norman church, which has no bell-cote, is still open regularly for services, although there are now very few inhabitants living in the parish.  Narrow and winding country lanes make access difficult, no

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-11522458965164551002011-08-31T21:16:00.000+01:002011-08-31T21:16:48.062+01:00

Image courtesy of seek4media You've just sat down to a nice hot plateful when the phone rings. You're almost certain it will be a telemarketing call. No matter how many times you register with the Telephone Preference Service, there's always a new company to sneak through the firewall to pester you with unsolicited direct marketing calls. "Is that Mrs. Smith?" You were right, the bubbly foreign

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-29867883123619640412011-08-30T00:07:00.000+01:002011-08-30T00:07:53.213+01:00

The other day I had a long email from a blogger friend, with whom I have been in contact behind the blogging scenes for several years. She is very worried about her husband who was diagnosed with MCI (mild cognitive impairment) some time ago. There is a possibility that he is suffering from early onset Alzheimer's; it would take further tests to establish the presence of the disease. My friend

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com51tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-34160037838301236442011-08-28T20:48:00.001+01:002011-08-28T20:49:56.341+01:00

The Red Umbrella - Christopher Shay Tess Kincaid's Magpie No. 80 Him, at home, looking out of the window: Didn't she say she'd be on the later train because she was going to have her hair done after work ? Oh no, it's raining hard. She won't like that. I know what I'll do. I'll see if I can get to the station in time to get her brolly to her. I'll take the bike, that's quicker. Him, at the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com55tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-38764130378473202542011-08-26T18:13:00.004+01:002011-08-26T18:26:28.819+01:00

Ciclo dei Mesi - Agosto1390-1400 Having nearly missed the monthly round-up of small bites, I'd better get straight into it: A baby siskin flew into the conservatory window and sat, dazed, just outside the door for at least fifteen minutes. This shot is taken through the glass of the door and therefore less clear than it might have been.The red geranium leaf in the right-hand corner gives you an

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-22816770073383141712011-08-23T19:43:00.001+01:002011-08-23T19:44:42.250+01:00

As sure as eggs is eggs, you can rely on a labrador's greed. I know of no other creature which will do as much for food as a labrador. A banker might come a close second in the greed stakes, but he's not usually after food. By nature a lab is very accommodating, but promise him food and he'll do anything.  A ramp? What's that for? You want me to go up a ramp? Benno is getting very old, his

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-26469189985459881642011-08-22T12:36:00.000+01:002011-08-22T12:36:51.624+01:00

Tess Kincaid's Magpie No. 79 "These old photographs could go", she says. "Who would ever want to look at them again? There's only me now and I have no further interest in them. There won't be room for them in the retirement home". She rummages around in the shoebox on the table in front of her and picks a photo at random.  Peering at the faded print with her short-sighted eyes, she says to her

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-50799745457555979892011-08-20T01:17:00.000+01:002011-08-20T01:17:17.343+01:00

Gardener last summer "Summat wrong here, I thought." Gardener came by for a cup of tea yesterday.  A loud knock on the back door, a shout of 'hello" and "where's the gardener, canna see her working" ( meaning me), and he's in the kitchen. Bright and cheerful. When I asked if the doctors had given him permission to drive again, he said "Didn't ask them". Of course, what was I thinking. Gardener

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-88214641084594698972011-08-18T11:13:00.000+01:002011-08-18T11:13:55.625+01:00

Away, loathed melancholy! Such friends as you drive gremlins clean away.My heartfelt thanks to all of you who came to say you cared. The sun was out, the river sparkled and winked at me as if to say "enough with gloom and doom". A sturdy man brought his sturdy wife and between them they cut and tidied and cleared away overgrown hedges all around the garden. A job well done and off my mind. I

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-78148449446071761332011-08-15T17:42:00.000+01:002011-08-15T17:42:06.298+01:00

Nobody wants to know you when you're down; A dark cloud deadens the sparkle and muddies the waters.I'm in hiding. "Laugh, and the world laughs with you;Weep, and you weep alone;For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,But has trouble enough of its own. So says Ella Wheeler Wilcox,and so say I. The Decorettes For the moment I lack the mental fleet-footedness that comes with a healthy

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com77tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-48631727298849997212011-08-11T14:37:00.000+01:002011-08-11T14:37:39.495+01:00

Clematis 'Polish Spirit' There is still plenty of time to go garden visiting. In fact, some gardens reach their full, spectacular potential not until the second half of summer, when the range of magnificent herbaceous perennials seems endless, from asters and dozens of daisy-like flowers to the stately spikes of salvias; not to mention the summer flowering clematis, like the one above. Sadly, we

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-70836527217135764072011-08-08T19:52:00.001+01:002011-08-08T22:38:02.062+01:00

Every year in August Valley's End holds its Village Show And Carnival on the meadow between the castle hill and the river.  It's a much less raucous affair than the Green Man Festival in May. This event is organised by the village for the village, there are no commercial booths, every booth is run by a village committee and all the money raised is for a village charity. The event itself usually

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-48255863504986308312011-08-07T19:16:00.001+01:002011-08-07T19:20:02.455+01:00

The Dinner TableHenri Matisse - 1896/7  This has been an extraordinarily well-fed few days; there has been expensive restaurant food, free food, and home-cooked food, always in good company. Although we both enjoy good food, we are by no means greedy eaters, but during the second half of the week the focus on food has been marked. Only the restaurant meal was planned; eight of us went to The

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-58667681221805923482011-08-04T14:44:00.003+01:002011-08-04T14:52:52.352+01:00

It came to me, quite suddenly, last night. Perhaps I should amend this to: today, it came to me today. Bright shining hands informed me without passion, that yesterday had been and gone, more than an hour ago. My pillows plumped, I lay in the uncertain dark of  summer's night, a single church bell measuring segments of deathly silence, sliced into equal portions, reminding me that sleep is of

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-34915361353968350742011-08-01T20:04:00.000+01:002011-08-01T20:04:49.341+01:00

Acton Burnell is a small and picturesque village some eight miles south east of Shrewsbury. The name seems to have come from Achetune, meaning Oaktown. Robert Burnell was Bishop of Bath and Wells between 1275 and 1292, but he was also politically influential as Chancellor to Edward I. For more than thirty years he was friend, confidant and advisor to the king.  Robert Burnell obtained a licence

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-31024120187517027142011-07-31T15:16:00.000+01:002011-07-31T15:16:18.307+01:00

It grieves me to see so many of my American blogging friends unhappy with the politicians in their own country. I see a good, proud, kind nation tearing itself to pieces and would like to remind you of the big heart and generous spirit you showed towards others less fortunate than you. Let me introduce you to a little girl, called Eva,  growing up in the years immediately after  WW2 in

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-69901644579814429952011-07-29T11:19:00.001+01:002011-08-04T14:46:18.277+01:00

Facial Mask  -  Wikipedia Hello, come in, how are you?I'll be with you in half a mo. Hop on.There we are, is this comfortable?Are you warm enough? We don't really need the towels, do we? She wipes my eyebrows, then proceeds to pluck them. That's fine, not a lot today. She puts on eyebrow tint. We'll let this sit for a minute.That's fine, all done.I'll just lower the couch and switch off

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-29054697999074564502011-07-27T21:06:00.000+01:002011-07-27T21:06:45.336+01:00

On my walks round Valley's End I often meet several people who might be classified as 'simple'. Two of them never speak to me and barely look at me sideways, although one of them always has a careful glance at Benno before dancing a little detour to make sure they don't pass too closely. The other one takes long steps, hands deep in the pockets of his dark, long overcoat, summer and winter,

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-16395360378080942812011-07-25T11:05:00.000+01:002011-07-25T11:05:27.223+01:00

WILLOW'S MAGPIE No. 75 Mars and Vulcan, rough boys playing rough games, riding their bikes, shrieking, bells clanging  and brakes screeching, up and own the long corridors of Jupiter's workshops for the manufacture of thunder and lightning. Jupiter appeared, bleary-eyed and hung over after a long night with one of his many conquests. By Jove, he thundered, ear-splitting uproar of unruly

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com38tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-89456279188036641132011-07-23T23:37:00.001+01:002011-07-24T08:26:09.737+01:00

Ciclo Dei Mesi - Luglio - ca. 1400 Torre dell'Aquila, nel Castello del Buonconsiglio di Trento July, the month of haymaking.Named in honour of the Roman emperor, Julius Cesar. Nowadays haymaking in Europe is more or less over by July, which means that  climatic conditions must have changed considerably over the past 1200 years. The Sun enters the House of Leo. The man born under Leo shall be

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-70076707402937657672011-07-22T19:10:00.001+01:002011-07-22T19:24:32.604+01:00

Jinksy challenged me to write a romantic tale to accompany her computer artwork for her new promptIn Tandem. How could I refuse. Long, long ago, on the banks of the mighty River Rhine, there stood a castle. Well, actually, the banks were positively littered with a multitude of castles  on both sides, all populated by pretty maidens, heroic knights, dragons, robber barons and greedy archbishops,

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-52792970729669259552011-07-20T22:55:00.000+01:002011-07-20T22:55:49.026+01:00

has been been a happy and not so happy subject on my blog several times. Remember the time he almost burnt the garden down?  Or when he cut back the beauty bush and other shrubs BEFORE flowering?  There was the time when he put great piles of the most pernicious weed in my garden, the blessed lesser celandine, in the compost heap and we had to discard a whole spring's worth of compost,

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-41402771901191648052011-07-18T18:16:00.000+01:002011-07-18T18:16:51.662+01:00

WILLOW'S MAGPIE No. 74 The keeper of the mask museum had turned off the lights, locked the door and left. Every night, the masks, helplessly pinned to the walls during daylight hours, came alive. They stretched and yawned, smiled and laughed, cried and shouted in relief; the immobility imposed on them by their makers lifted, until the first rays of daylight crept in through the dusty windows

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-44748267070417233422011-07-16T22:10:00.000+01:002011-07-16T22:10:28.392+01:00

Crane's Bill - Herb RobertGeranium Robertianum has made its home in the crack of a sheer rock face high above the river Teme on Whitcliff Common. In the Middle Ages there was a widespread belief in the 'doctrine of signatures'. This meant that any plant with curative properties would reveal the divine purpose for which it was intended through its shape or colour. In the case of herb-robert, the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-71490604673965469982011-07-14T12:23:00.000+01:002011-07-14T12:23:46.489+01:00

Diogenes Searching for an Honest ManPainting Attributed to J.H.W. Tischbein (circa 1780)  The legend goes that Diogenes of Sinopi (404 or 412 BCE-323BCE) had a habit of strolling about in broad daylight, carrying a lamp. When asked what he was doing he said "I'm searching for an honest man". The other night, at a village function,  I told a totally unnecessary lie.  I gained nothing by it, I

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-4314301008608938382011-07-11T23:14:00.001+01:002011-07-11T23:17:22.353+01:00

Langley Chapel,  near Shrewsbury in Shropshire, sits tranquilly all alone in charming countryside. The interior of the chapel is a unique survival of the way Anglican Churches were arranged in the early 17th century, with box pews, a desk for musicians at the back and bench seats around the communion table for use during the sacraments. The Burnells of nearby Acton Burnell were lords of the

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People of Chilmark. Thomas Hart Benton, 1920 WILLOW'S MAGPIE No. 73 If onlyI had not lacked so much from the beginning,And I had had the good senseTo choose a different path from the one I chose,And I had had the right kind of helpOn the right path,And therefore done the opposite to what I did,And I had not been forced to do so much of what I didat other men's behest,  And I had then known the

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-58389914137334325062011-07-06T18:16:00.003+01:002011-07-06T23:16:54.514+01:00

Come in, come in, welcome to my garden. I hope you don't mind using the back door,most people come in this way. You can just make out the name of the house. Now that the paying visitors have gone,I can take you round and show you some of  my current favourites. Dahlia 'Bishop Of Llandaff' I started out with one tuber of this old favourite,which I won in a raffle at a garden club.Now I have at

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-51211932036491443192011-07-04T14:33:00.002+01:002011-07-04T14:53:37.523+01:00

Wheat Field With Rising Sun  -   Vincent Van Gogh WILLOW'S MAGPIE No. 72 Midday, and the wind is holding its breath. Children's bicycles half-hidden in tall grass by the roadside. Golden fields stretching as far as the eye can see, crops reaching into the sun-blind sky, towards ripening. Larks rise, trilling their joyous song, cicadas shrill for attention in the drowsy air. Blackbirds cease

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There was a time when I believed I could fly. Now I am not sure that even my spirit can take off, I have become earthbound.  I am so much older, perhaps wiser, certainly sensible, and sadly, pedestrian. Claire Gneccho's recent post on her blog Daily Epiphanies from Gaithersburg was a sudden, very sharp, reminder of something I had long forgotten:  roots are for trees, fetters that bind are

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-74991137636399585462011-06-29T17:44:00.000+01:002011-06-29T17:44:08.469+01:00

"Do you know where my Collected Hughes is? I can't see it on the shelf." It's poetry evening next Thursday and the subject is an easy one: 'Animals'. Ted Hughes has written a series of poems on animals. Beloved is looking for 'his' Hughes. That he can't find it, means nothing.  He can never find anything without asking me for directions first. And no, I am not currently borrowing 'his'

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WILLOWs MAGPIE No. 71 The Endeavour has been great,for now the task is done; To sit back and let others judgeis harder than the the work itself.No critical remark will go unheard. The expert laying down the rulesremains polite.Certain of her superior taste and knowledgeshe graciously allows a word of praiseto cross her lips. These ladies stand and stare.Lost in admiration? A flash of

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-65006980503874972412011-06-24T19:17:00.001+01:002011-06-24T23:59:16.795+01:00

Time to sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labour.Tomorrow we'll find out what the garden visitors have to say. I'd still like some colour in this view from the kitchen window,but this is as good as I can make it - it'll have to do.  There was little time to cookThis is what simple ham and egg can be made to look like.Just a touch gastro-pubby but it tasted good. Ludlow's Dinham Bridge

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-3524289023455943552011-06-22T00:32:00.000+01:002011-06-22T00:32:02.887+01:00

Last night it rained heavily for several hours;  this morning drizzle took over, the sort that gets you steadily soaked in a kind of pernicious, spiteful, underhand way. I should be grateful, should not complain. I am, truly I am, farmers and gardens need the rain; but . . . .  OK, so I am complaining, want to make something of it? When the rain stopped after lunch I asked Benno what he wanted

Frikohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04277167831642088694noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1294026230680025155.post-14281950147837231732011-06-20T15:28:00.000+01:002011-06-20T15:28:29.226+01:00

the one-and-a-half-eyed is Queen. WILLOW's MAGPIE No. 70 A ruff, a ruff,my Queen's realm for the other half! (Perhaps half a ruff is all you get for $1.99)

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