My ‘Garden.’

Since spring has finally sprung up here in the mountains, I shot these the other day.  The first shot is my two grandchildren enjoying the great outdoors, George with his iPad and Tina with her iPod touch.  (They were up for a ‘sleepover’ in the village.  The general view shows all the space I have – a little more behind me, but mostly taken up by a double gate.  The close-up shows a bit more detail.  The copper thingy is an old fashioned <s>Turkish</s> Cyprus coffee maker.  It’s a boiler thingy for hot water and the opening in the front is a heated sand-bed.  You run hot water into the cups, spoon in the coffee then cook it in the sand till it boils – takes longer than gas, but produces the best coffee.  I’ll take some shots when the roses bloom 🙂

9th Poetry Competition: Results.

Thank you to both Minty and Pseudonym for their entries. It was very difficult to judge them as I enjoyed both.

Pseudonym’s was brilliantly wrought with a subtle and delicate touch.

Araminta’s poem was vivid and colourful. It reminded me of reading some works by my favourite author, Yoshimoto Banana.

It’s been a difficult decision, but I will give the tenth competition to Araminta.

Dewani motive – update

This picture on the left is one of a man suffering from severe depression or is it anxiety, who knows who cares?

Reports today suggest that the accused wanted out of the engagement but couldn’t simply call the wedding off for fear of being disowned by his family.

The extradition hearing has now been postponed to July 18 awaiting a psychiatric report, that’s OK by me, we’ll wait.

I take great satisfaction knowing that the high flying lifestyle that this man once lived has disintegrated, that is a sentence in itself (not mine) he must be reminded every day that we, the peace loving citizens of South Africa will not let this matter rest.

An update on the 14th May service to scatter Anni’s ashes here

Evil, yes; no tears from me, but…

No man is an island entire of itself; every man

is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;

if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe

is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as

well as a manor of thy friends or of thine

own were; any man’s death diminishes me,

because I am involved in mankind.

And therefore never send to know for whom

the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

John Donne

Blustery day diversion

At this time of year I rarely go into the garden except to work on it. Even if I intend just to visit the veg plot to pull rhubarb or deposit vegetable peelings in the compost bin, I invariably end up passing a weed or two that needs easing out, or a plant that needs staking. Continue reading “Blustery day diversion”

Short Story

Man is driving down a road.
Woman is driving up the same road.
They pass each other.
Woman yells out window, “PIG!”
Man yells out window, “BITCH!”
Man rounds the next curve.
Man crashes into a HUGE PIG in middle of road and he dies.