And so the summer of our discontent is leading merrilly onwards to a winter of mellow fruitfulness or something of the sort along with it, rampaging its way through the sleet are exciting times.
What with new jobs, new businesses and a "global" economic downturn all underway, its great to see the world still has time for a joke or too.
Love the one from Mr Darling and his knocking 2.5% off vat will stimulate the economy, haven't laughed as much in years.
Sorry political comment again, just looking at my tax bill rising over the next ten years, that's all!
Anyway a lion goes into a bar and says, Bartender i'd like a pint of your best .....................bitter, please. The bartender says What's with the big pause?? I'm a LION says the lion!!!
A ya ta ta ta tara ta ta!!!
Anyway on that note laters!!
Monday, 24 November 2008
Thursday, 13 November 2008
Sunrise or Sunset?
Which is your favourite? Sunrise or Sunset?
I sat sitting driving my way to Derby as the sun rose this morning and a beautiful sight it was too, all oranges, purples and vivid streaks of light and it took me to a pondering moment as to which I preferred.
Simple truth I like both, but there is nothing better than sat on a summers evening, refreshment in hand, with a view of the sea, or the mountains, or wherever you prefer and seeing the world put itself to bed.
Nuff said, better go and wash up and the like and try and avoid my reflection as it bounces from the black hole of Calcutta that is the night at this time of year!
TTFN
Racing
Monday, 10 November 2008
Brass Bands!
Spent the day yesterday in remembrance, of not only the fallen but those left behind, as Sean the vicar said in the remembrance Sunday service, the effects of the ultimate sacrifice are long and heartfelt.
The image that stays with me is the petals of the poppies in their millions falling from the roof of the Albert hall and remembering that each one represents a life lost in the strive for peace.
There are only two real good bits to the whole thing other than a large dollop of reflection and thanks and that is watching the various cadet forces and scouts and beavers "marching" and the opportunity to listen to a brass band, without comment from Caroline (other than the usual "It's too loud").
There is no sight or perhaps sound better than a Brass band on the march, note to self must get over to Saddleworth this year to see the Whit Marches.
The other bit is that I hear the beautiful melody Nimrod, which along with the anthem of the old USSR has to be one of the best pieces of music of its type ever. On a cheerful note I've told Caroline I want Nimrod playing at my Funeral! So look out for that when the time comes!
One final note in this period of reflection, let us stand up and tell the government to stop being a set of arses and let our wounded servicemen have all the benefits in the world instead of the petty minded penny pinching which is happening to those injured and in receipt of a pension.
If need be tax me another 1p on petrol like you will anyway Mr Brown-Darling and spend it on something worthy for once instead of your own salaries!
Monday, 3 November 2008
For those who have dared to dream
This was written at the end of my studying days, but when I read it now it is pertinent to all manner of things where I have dared to dream yet feared the worst....
Results
The tension as it claws with its bile like leanings at the centre of your throat,
Grips your fevered brow and its rainbow of sweat,
Drives the demons of your mind into ever deeper despair,
Rages like a torrent down the mud slide of your dreams,
And builds like a religious convent without a home,
The trivialities of life upon which we depend blend into insignificance,
Dashed upon the storm clad rocks of potential ruin and disaster,
Of hoped for freedom, joy, and promises of the future,
The tension as it claws with its bile like leanings,
Digs deep at the blood cells in your heightened veins,
Drains the power of cohesive thought and common-sense,
Searches for its food on which to fester,
And sips greedily at the mucous of your brains desires,
Dares you to deny it, and enjoys the nonsensical humour of it all,
Looking in from the outside, the re-runs and potential errors which seem so manifest, pale,
No help in the world can release the prisoner of these darkened hours,
The tension and the fight, unequal and distraught,
Dampen the soiled canvas of your protective art,
Developing alternative images of unimagined, undared, success and broken idols,
Screams at the tautness of your violin string spine,
Plucks gladly at the withered plumage and briefcase eyes you hide behind,
Centres itself on a time in the future which never seems to near,
And watches you cry the mists of deep despair,
The tension built, strategically with such a grand facade,
Is smote and led defeated from the battlefield,
Released from the pressure cooker of its existence by the sharp needle prick of a balloon,
Destroyed in the blink of an Owls eye amidst its steely gaze,
The ecstasy of its demise, tempered very little by the challenges to come,
Dreams of butterflies, of summer days, of angels and hummingbirds,
Replace the bile like leanings at the centre of your throat,
Wash clean the fears, to lay unfounded in the stench of rotting waste,
The sun is warm, all’s well with the world,
And my tiny morsel of this life shall sample the toast to which it is surely due.
Racing
Results
The tension as it claws with its bile like leanings at the centre of your throat,
Grips your fevered brow and its rainbow of sweat,
Drives the demons of your mind into ever deeper despair,
Rages like a torrent down the mud slide of your dreams,
And builds like a religious convent without a home,
The trivialities of life upon which we depend blend into insignificance,
Dashed upon the storm clad rocks of potential ruin and disaster,
Of hoped for freedom, joy, and promises of the future,
The tension as it claws with its bile like leanings,
Digs deep at the blood cells in your heightened veins,
Drains the power of cohesive thought and common-sense,
Searches for its food on which to fester,
And sips greedily at the mucous of your brains desires,
Dares you to deny it, and enjoys the nonsensical humour of it all,
Looking in from the outside, the re-runs and potential errors which seem so manifest, pale,
No help in the world can release the prisoner of these darkened hours,
The tension and the fight, unequal and distraught,
Dampen the soiled canvas of your protective art,
Developing alternative images of unimagined, undared, success and broken idols,
Screams at the tautness of your violin string spine,
Plucks gladly at the withered plumage and briefcase eyes you hide behind,
Centres itself on a time in the future which never seems to near,
And watches you cry the mists of deep despair,
The tension built, strategically with such a grand facade,
Is smote and led defeated from the battlefield,
Released from the pressure cooker of its existence by the sharp needle prick of a balloon,
Destroyed in the blink of an Owls eye amidst its steely gaze,
The ecstasy of its demise, tempered very little by the challenges to come,
Dreams of butterflies, of summer days, of angels and hummingbirds,
Replace the bile like leanings at the centre of your throat,
Wash clean the fears, to lay unfounded in the stench of rotting waste,
The sun is warm, all’s well with the world,
And my tiny morsel of this life shall sample the toast to which it is surely due.
Racing
Sunday, 2 November 2008
Be Inspired
Now then, sorry it's been a while far too much sleeping, working and generally doing nothing, going on to remember to blog!
I was reminded by Jonny boy that I had been remiss, and as such here's a little thought for you which follows on from a book I've been reading.
There are so many ways that we can make excuses for not doing something, not trying something or just not having the courage to follow our dreams that it would be impossible for me to list them all, yet everyday we meet someone extraordinary who is doing something no-one else has done.
A prime example comes from my jogle blog where at Tarbet I met the head waitress who had had a brain tumour less than six months previously, yet was a shining beacon of happiness, and yes if your a cynic you can probably say her priorities had changed since her recovery etc etc, but that misses the point.
She wasn't telling people about it in a look at me and give me sympathy way, she was there saying look at what has happened and be inspired.
Going back to the book I have been reading called " Liquid thinking" by a guy called Damian Hughes he has all manner of people who have inspired him, to follow his dreams to write a book etc, and the quote I love from it comes from the famous Australian rugby league coach Wayne Bennett, whose parting message to his players each time they went out on the pitch was simple.
All he said was " Don't die with the music still in you"
Who said rugby players don't understand such comments, certainly not any English Rugby League supporter today after the Aussies have treated us to just how to put that message into action!
Laters, Racing
I was reminded by Jonny boy that I had been remiss, and as such here's a little thought for you which follows on from a book I've been reading.
There are so many ways that we can make excuses for not doing something, not trying something or just not having the courage to follow our dreams that it would be impossible for me to list them all, yet everyday we meet someone extraordinary who is doing something no-one else has done.
A prime example comes from my jogle blog where at Tarbet I met the head waitress who had had a brain tumour less than six months previously, yet was a shining beacon of happiness, and yes if your a cynic you can probably say her priorities had changed since her recovery etc etc, but that misses the point.
She wasn't telling people about it in a look at me and give me sympathy way, she was there saying look at what has happened and be inspired.
Going back to the book I have been reading called " Liquid thinking" by a guy called Damian Hughes he has all manner of people who have inspired him, to follow his dreams to write a book etc, and the quote I love from it comes from the famous Australian rugby league coach Wayne Bennett, whose parting message to his players each time they went out on the pitch was simple.
All he said was " Don't die with the music still in you"
Who said rugby players don't understand such comments, certainly not any English Rugby League supporter today after the Aussies have treated us to just how to put that message into action!
Laters, Racing
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