To err is human, to Arr is pirate
Posted: September 19, 2018 Filed under: Uncategorized 1 CommentMy last post was a sad one…but there will (I hope and trust) always be room for happiness too.
It’s International Talk Like A Pirate day…what other reason do I need?! Greetings me hearties!
Maisie, always there.
Posted: September 19, 2018 Filed under: Uncategorized 12 CommentsMaisie was the last dog to be owned by my parents in law, Derek and Rosemary. She became ours following the death of Derek, as ‘Bloss’ was unable to care for her (though Maisie remained a faithful friend and source of pleasure to Bloss ,until the latter’s death)
Maisie was a rescue dog, from Morfa Head. Part collie, maybe some corgi, definitely something speedy in the genes. She strove to be good (except when sneaking on to the forbidden sofa). She loved to bark (though fell silent towards the end) to chase flies, to chase Phoebe! She was almost obsessed with chasing ‘the squeaky’ and hard to get off the chase, until Helen invented “Maisie, 1, 2, 3 ” upon which she would retreat to the bed, or her sofa.
She was brave, faithful and true. There is , for us at least, no shame in mourning the passing of a dog as much as we would a person, for she (they) are truly : Family.
We will miss her.
Maisie – always there
Then…
The walks are getting shorter
The nights longer
(Sometimes I feel like baying at the moon)
A sense of impending separation
Ever stronger.
Swallows and house martins bombarding the September skies
Apples, thickening, ripening
Blackberries bursting
Sloe berries sumptuous
Carningli
Silvered seas
Mountain ash blood berried red
It was, desperately beautiful
This autumn day
She was…
Obsessed with catching flies
A jumper of style
And stiles
White socked
Tanks in the distance trembling
Great Bedwyn bed jumping
(“Get down Maisie”
Bloss’ morning cry)
Ireland swimming
Nearly dying
Whilst we were in Utah
Ever pleasing
And eager to do so
Plucky
Lucky
Running free
1-2-3
And now…
The house is hushed
Stilled
Morfa Head muffled, mourning
The sea silenced,
Jackdaws screaming an unintended lament
A buzzard dips its wings in sun seasoned tribute
The wind whips and stuns the air.
Meet us on the rainbow bridge?
Let’s hope, suppose…
Meantime, ours to cry,
Memories may be the way to cope.
Ours the loss
Count the cost
The severing of the last link perhaps
To Derek, to Bloss
Oh, the heart hammering
The emotions bludgeoned
Battered
“Our little soldier”
…off she goes.
Alcohol Concern | Blog | It’s not about the alcohol! Helping communities to drink more healthily
Posted: September 3, 2018 Filed under: Uncategorized Leave a commentHow do you get ‘ordinary’ social drinkers thinking and talking about alcohol? Probably not by talking to them about alcohol… Andrew Misell looks at the legacy of the Communities Together project.
— Read on www.alcoholconcern.org.uk/blog/its-not-about-the-alcohol
This is neither poetry, nor photography, but it’s a piece about the work I was privileged to be involved with for some three years or so, and I want to share the learning as widely as possible.
themarcistagenda 