Gosh the news is depressing today! Too close a study of the news would drive the most optimistic of followers to despair. Fear not, brave followers. Help is at hand. There's always a funny picture to cheer you up - it's just that sometimes you have to search really hard for them!
Hope you're all smiling now.
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Tuesday, 16 April 2013
Thursday, 11 April 2013
Mixed News
There's a couple of news articles for today's blog so I'll start with the more serious one first, which highlights the plight of residents on the North East coast. It's a coastline that has long been receding, but the erosion seems to have accelerated in recent years. The BBC article has some rather haunting images of collapsed roads and houses perched perilously close to the crumbling cliff edge.
I remember as a child visiting Blackgang Chine on the Isle of Wight (far from the NE I know, but its plight is similar) and seeing the remnants of a house, scattered at intervals down the cliff. My abiding memory is of a white porcelain toilet on a section of tiled floor, halfway down. It was an image that somehow made the demise of that poor house more real. Tragic though the pictures are, they do get my creative muscles twitching. I can feel the first threads of a story weaving through the old grey cells - I hope anyone who has lost their home to the sea will forgive me.
But now to the happier article. This one is from the Mail - no, it's not all right wing propaganda and bigotry, they do some interesting stuff too - and it features an ongoing 'war' between two neighbours. It's a shame Kim Jong-un doesn't take a leaf out of these people's book, because a foam fight sounds a lot more fun than thermo-nuclear war.
I'm almost tempted to move. I think neighbours like them would be fun.
I remember as a child visiting Blackgang Chine on the Isle of Wight (far from the NE I know, but its plight is similar) and seeing the remnants of a house, scattered at intervals down the cliff. My abiding memory is of a white porcelain toilet on a section of tiled floor, halfway down. It was an image that somehow made the demise of that poor house more real. Tragic though the pictures are, they do get my creative muscles twitching. I can feel the first threads of a story weaving through the old grey cells - I hope anyone who has lost their home to the sea will forgive me.
But now to the happier article. This one is from the Mail - no, it's not all right wing propaganda and bigotry, they do some interesting stuff too - and it features an ongoing 'war' between two neighbours. It's a shame Kim Jong-un doesn't take a leaf out of these people's book, because a foam fight sounds a lot more fun than thermo-nuclear war.
I'm almost tempted to move. I think neighbours like them would be fun.
Wednesday, 10 April 2013
Number Jumble
I'm not good at maths, I think I've probably mentioned that before. Numbers jumble, dance and twist in my head in much the same fashion that letters do in the head of a dyslexic. It's been a source of tremendous annoyance over the years, but I think I could forgive it if it caused the same mistake as the Canadian lady who was celebrating a 40,000 dollar lottery prize, only to find out she had actually won 40 million.
Apparently the lucky lady is planning a honeymoon, 30 years after her wedding. Well, she can probably afford it now.
Apparently the lucky lady is planning a honeymoon, 30 years after her wedding. Well, she can probably afford it now.
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
But Politics Goes on ...
One political figure, very much alive and very much continuing to divide opinions, is Boris Johnson, mayor of London. He was filmed on the South Bank promoting a basketball tournament. In the footage on the Telegraph's site, he was handed a basketball which he managed to put through the hoop despite shooting backwards. He'd be hopeless prime minister, he certainly hasn't the composure of Baroness Thatcher (she would never have dangled from a zipwire waving two Union flags to promote the Olympics for instance), but there's something irresistible about him. He just offers himself up as a buffoon so willingly. You've got to admire that in a politician!
Baroness Thatcher
It would be impossible for me to allow the passing of the Iron Lady to go without comment on this blog. She was the prime minister for most of my childhood and, though I found her unutterably posh, under her stewardship I never for a moment doubted the strength and resolve of my country. She may have made a lot of enemies with her uncompromising attitude, but she was principled and dedicated, and she loved this country in a way that hasn't been seen in subsequent prime ministers.
Watching news footage of people dancing in celebration at her death, stamping on her image on front pages of newspapers, and blaming her for everything wrong in their lives, I was reminded of extremists burning flags, chanting and stamping in the grip of religious fervour. It struck me as grotesque, and it undermined the point they were trying to make. Decorum and respect, perversely, carry more volume than shouts and catcalls.
So my over-riding feeling today is grief for a lady of devotion, principle and dedication. Her politics can and will be argued at another time. Rest in peace, Margaret Thatcher.
The Wise One has provided this tribute, which gets to the point far better than mine:
Watching news footage of people dancing in celebration at her death, stamping on her image on front pages of newspapers, and blaming her for everything wrong in their lives, I was reminded of extremists burning flags, chanting and stamping in the grip of religious fervour. It struck me as grotesque, and it undermined the point they were trying to make. Decorum and respect, perversely, carry more volume than shouts and catcalls.
So my over-riding feeling today is grief for a lady of devotion, principle and dedication. Her politics can and will be argued at another time. Rest in peace, Margaret Thatcher.
The Wise One has provided this tribute, which gets to the point far better than mine:
Tribute 8.4.2013
What sad news we heard today,
A great British leader has passed away,
Whatever we thought of her leadership views,
I was still very sad to hear on the news,
After a stroke, Maggie Thatcher has gone,
Leaving the rest to try to go on,
You may not think she was always right,
But she did show the world that Britain had might,
So we await a strong leader, yet to appear,
I say farewell Maggie, we miss you old dear.
A great British leader has passed away,
Whatever we thought of her leadership views,
I was still very sad to hear on the news,
After a stroke, Maggie Thatcher has gone,
Leaving the rest to try to go on,
You may not think she was always right,
But she did show the world that Britain had might,
So we await a strong leader, yet to appear,
I say farewell Maggie, we miss you old dear.
(by P. Richardson)
Monday, 8 April 2013
Just to Make You Smile
It's nothing to do with writing, not exactly news, and I can't see it inspiring another story for the next anthology, but it made me smile on a dreary Monday morning: just take a look at the pictures in this article on the Mail's site today and you'll understand.
(Actually, I can feel the wisps of an Enid Blyton-esque story about a young foal and the resident old shire horse working together to save the day when dastardly thieves strike their farm ... )
(Actually, I can feel the wisps of an Enid Blyton-esque story about a young foal and the resident old shire horse working together to save the day when dastardly thieves strike their farm ... )
Thursday, 4 April 2013
Favourite Subject
Firstly I must apologise for returning to a much recurring theme of this blog, but when you follow the link, I think you'll forgive me. I'm back on treehouses, a subject that is in danger of becoming an obsession with me.
The Daily Mail has an article today on the work of James Curvan, a retired architect who now spends his time designing and building treehouses. If the one featured in the article is anything to go by, he must have known great success during his working career. That tree house is nicer than our actual house. (Sorry house, maybe if you had a platform, walkway, slide ...)
Of course, no child in Britain would ever have such a thing because a) planning permission would be required and refused, and b) in the unlikely event that pp was granted, there would be a besuited health and safety official who would disapprove of the fireplace, or the stairs, or the dog house, or the window boxes, or ...
Anyway, who needs a fancy pants treehouse? When we were kids the Wise One built us a ship, treehouse, space ship, aeroplane, car ... Actually it was all the same thing, a climbing frame cleverly constructed out of plumbing parts and painted sky blue, but its bizarre shape and our imaginations allowed it to be whatever we wanted.
So, as nice as Mr Curvan's work is, us Brits can do just as well with old pipe and leftover paint.
(Hm, if we did away with all the plants, the pergola, the table and chairs and the washing line, we might just be able to fit a small one in ... ooh, ooh, I know, we could knock the house down and then we could fit in one of the really big ones, with a platform and slide and walkway and everything. Where's my sledgehammer?)
The Daily Mail has an article today on the work of James Curvan, a retired architect who now spends his time designing and building treehouses. If the one featured in the article is anything to go by, he must have known great success during his working career. That tree house is nicer than our actual house. (Sorry house, maybe if you had a platform, walkway, slide ...)
Of course, no child in Britain would ever have such a thing because a) planning permission would be required and refused, and b) in the unlikely event that pp was granted, there would be a besuited health and safety official who would disapprove of the fireplace, or the stairs, or the dog house, or the window boxes, or ...
Anyway, who needs a fancy pants treehouse? When we were kids the Wise One built us a ship, treehouse, space ship, aeroplane, car ... Actually it was all the same thing, a climbing frame cleverly constructed out of plumbing parts and painted sky blue, but its bizarre shape and our imaginations allowed it to be whatever we wanted.
So, as nice as Mr Curvan's work is, us Brits can do just as well with old pipe and leftover paint.
(Hm, if we did away with all the plants, the pergola, the table and chairs and the washing line, we might just be able to fit a small one in ... ooh, ooh, I know, we could knock the house down and then we could fit in one of the really big ones, with a platform and slide and walkway and everything. Where's my sledgehammer?)
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