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I suppose you might fill some minutes by visiting www.sheeppoopaper.com.
You see, they're Welsh, and therefore a bit funny. They make paper from sheep poo. It's a great educational resource. There are other poo-pular lines such as poo-pouri air fresheners and me & ewe cards.
Enjoy.
Hello to you.
I know who you are - you're a reader of my blog.
I like you. Well, most of you - sorry to be slavishly balanced, but there it is.
It's wonderful that you care enough about my little life to dial up these pages regularly, or at all. As you know, I've been struggling with a few of the issues surrounding the publicity that my words earn me here, so I thought I would attempt to deal with it another way.
Can we just not talk about it? I know that as you read my words, it feels like we're closer, but with many of you, it's just a one-way thing, so it feels weird when you talk to me about what I've written here.
Truth is - you know what I have written here, and I kinda know - so it's cool. Feel free to comment on the blog itself, it's just the talking when I see you that causes me problems. Imagine if you wrote something personal and I asked you about it, you might feel the same. You probably think "Hey, but I'd not write that stuff - you're crazy, Andy!" I fully take your point, and I find myself fascinated as to why I feel the need to do this at all.First I noticed this:
Then this, on the path outside the flat:
Also this:
Then these, on the gravel...
It's a total mystery to me, but it seems this place has been the victim of a light shelling.
It's almost impossible to follow a post like the last one. I feel the weight of responsibility having said what I said.
I should start by thanking everyone who commented so positively and kindly. I never fail to be touched and delighted by the supportive comments I receive here. You people, who are kind enough to read my blog, are good people, and I am very glad to know you.
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I was hearing on the radio today that global warming is no longer a theory - it is happening right now. The learned professor was telling us that it is extremely unlikely that anything can be done to stop a significant change in climate till about 2050, when some of the measures we are starting to put in place may have taken effect.
Till then, we must reap the damage already done and concentrate our efforts on minimising the effects. On the plus side, winters are warmer and so we are witnessing less deaths due to cold. On the negative side, there are more floods and we stand a significant risk of a severe heatwave one summer which could kill thousands.
When I look at a picture of the world taken from space at a particular angle, I can just see the glow of our atmosphere. Boy, does it look small. Barely enough to colour in, were the world a colouring book. (which it isn't, but imagine what fun it would be if it was?) Our very existence hangs by a thread, and yet we don't seem to care. Our fragility has little meaning for us.
We could walk out into the street without looking and get hit by speeding gnu, causing our sudden, bloody and furry death. It COULD happen. Yet we feel so safe in the intricate constructs of our lives. We have our rules, our clothes, our houses, our social gatherings, our conventions, our language, our food, our entertainment, and our many and varied jobs. In the peak of life, when we have all these things running smoothly, maybe we dare to feel complete.
I'm not so sure. I think part of us - maybe just a tiny part - but part of us is aware that we are little bundles of skin, bones and water, clinging to a spinning world with a pencil-thin strip of air to keep us alive. I think it is this little part of us - the one that has a clue about our true place in the firmament - which seeks for more meaning to life than is afforded by merely dancing the dance expected of us by society.
Sure, it passes the time, and there is a comforting rhythm to it, but that life which seems so normal literally hangs by a thread for us all. If one person close to us died - if a marriage broke up - if someone became chronically ill - if the waters rose and flooded your home or your town. So many things could upset that delicately poised apple-cart that is our everyday lives.
We are a truly fortunate generation - living after two awful world wars and probably dying shortly before the next, where our enemy is likely to be the elements around us. Our children, and especially our children's children will fight it, and I hope they find ways to equip themselves well for what lies ahead.
So, in the last years of cheerful waste and thoughtless living, how will you choose to live your life? This amazing freedom we have been granted is also a fragile thing. Surely we need to use it wisely and enjoy it thoroughly while we still can.
But what, I hear you ask, about that part of us seeking for more meaning to life? I believe that is our in-built need to find God - and it is interesting to see how different people endeavour to satisfy it - or not. From obsessive hobbies to mystical beliefs of all sorts, people certainly seek high and low in an attempt to scratch their spiritual itch.
Or they just get busy and try to ignore it. It usually works, I'm told. Unless they think too hard. In response, I think I would urge everyone to think too hard. Maybe even harder than that. It's worth it.
Hello there everyone.
That's assuming you haven't stopped reading me, so to speak.
There are reasons why I haven't been here. For one thing, my leg problems have resurfaced and I am struggling to do everything I should do. For another, I feel as though I have lost direction here. I'm no longer sure why I blog and what this blog is about.
I feel I need to regain focus and return in a more purposeful way - not just posting the odd thing from the web which has amused me. This blog was never intended for that. It was to be the semi-private outpourings of my soul to a few treasured friends.
I guess that train sailed a long time ago.
So I went through a phase of thinking who was reading the blog and trying to moderate that. J put a stop to that by discovering my boardy poetry on the poems blog. I guess i am who I am. Sure, I am a christian - but I do not in any way hold myself up as an ideal of christian living. I am an imperfect soul who likes naughty rhymes, but also loves playing piano in church. Maybe it's a paradox, but it is also who I am. If I've learned anything, it is to start to accept who I am, and work from there. There is little mileage in pretending I am someone I am not and then getting caught out.
As ever, being one person, known to all equally, is what matters. I no longer wish to compartmentalise my life, as many do. My friends are, without exception, great people. I wouldn't have a party and miss a few out because they wouldn't fit. In my experience, people are surprising - they get on with each other really well.
So where am I now? The answer is that I don't really know. I certainly love the people I know and those with whom I associate. I am delighted to have been voted onto the committee for the Newbiggin Arts Forum, a place where I might manage to be a positive influence on the village, and therefore this local area. That feels good.
I believe we define ourselves by where we throw our energies. Few people lie on their deathbeds bemoaning their lack of commitment to their jobs. That said, I am looking to expand my ability to work efficiently by working a little smarter. Being self employed is not easy, particularly when it is me that sets the agenda each day.
As for this blog, well, I suppose I want to bring back the honesty and stop missing stuff out because it might offend. Obviously there is a line to be drawn, but I think I was placing it so far down that nothing but lounge chatter was possible - that's why i lost interest. For me, it has to be real to attract me.
OK, that's it, belly-button gazing over. I'm back - and with a slightly refreshed agenda.
I hope you like it.
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