Another Award / James's Story / Funnie

Hi Folks,

My friend Judy, from The other side of the hill has once again presented this blog with an award for being a 'Brilliante' one - Now, who am I to argue hehe... Thank you so much Judy . Just in case some of you don't know, Judy is one of the nicest and most prolific commenters and readers of blogs in Blogland - how she manages it - goodness knows, she is absolutely amazing and always manages to say the most encouraging things.
Now the next thing is to pass on seven 'Brilliante Weblog' awards - I just 'love' passing out pressies (probably 'cos I 've never grown up - I was never a school monitor in Primary school so I didn't get to give out the wee bottles of milk - was never a teacher's pet you see ).

'Brilliante Weblogs'

Judy Patooote......... Grumpyoldwoman.........Grammy of 13 .........Belleek ........... grandma faith... Little Drops into the Pool of Life......... Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods..

Please collect your award, copy it to your side-bar because you all deserve them and in turn please pass it on to seven others. These awards are going to have to be the last ones as, like June in Australia and Judy in Kentucky I am stopping the awards as I am finding too that it is taking up so much of my time . This means that I'm not able to spend very much of my P.C. time actually doing Blogging - which I absolutely love. So, sorry folks - just make sure you keep the awards in a nice cool place out of sunlight and dampness etc. 'cos you want to be able to sell them on as antiques in years to come - don't ya?

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Talking about school reminds me of a friend of ours who started his teacher training course a couple of weeks ago, I bumped into him the other day. I've known him since he was a schoolboy and as we chatted about his course one thing really intrigued me.

Neither his parents, nor any members of his family, are teachers or even connected with education, so what I wondered had drawn him to that path ? James reminded me of a difficult period he went through when he was a teenager. He'd fallen in with a wild crowd and developed quite an attitude. His schoolwork started to suffer, but James acted like he didn't care - mainly to impress his new mates, as he now admits. Luckily James's English teacher, Mrs. MacDonald, wasn't the type to be fooled by his posturing. But she was not the kind of teacher who resorted to giving James a hard time - instead she used something much more powerful - inspiration.

Through the force of her character and her passion for the subject she was teaching she managed to change James's attitude over the course of the school year. By the time the summer holidays came around he was a changed boy, and had a passion for English that has lasted to this day. "So that's why I'm training to be an English teacher. Perhaps if there are kids like I was I can 'do a Mrs MacDonald' on them and change their lives, too." I think James will make a success of his job as a teacher .

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I got this funnie in an email this morning and I hope no one is offended by it ...

There once was a religious young woman who went to Confession . Upon entering the confessional, she said, 'Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.' The priest said, 'Confess your sins and be forgiven.'The young woman said, 'Last night my boyfriend made mad passionate love to me seven times.'The priest thought long and hard and then said, 'Squeeze seven lemons into a glass and then drink the juice.' The young woman asked, 'Will this cleanse me of my sins? 'The priest said, 'No, but it will wipe that smile off of your face.'




Lots of Love from Scotland the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Kate xxx.

Alternatively



A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.
I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

--Emily Dickinson



"Logic! You say that, my friend, in a very dry way like a genuine born artist! But what do you think if you please, logic is? You think that logic means a book in stiff covers, a boring hour spent in front of the black pedestal of a crucifix, when the windows are open and outside the sparrows are twittering cheerfully in the leaves and rejoicing in the May sun? Logic means a cycle of bright, transparent crystal systems which are perhaps more valuable and are certainly a million times more important than your various artistic worlds and constructions. And why, if you please, should not the differences which existed between Plato and the Eleatics until Kant raised the brilliant question: 'Was ist Wahrheit?' ('What is truth?') be at least as valuable as the foolish naiveties of a Benvenuto Cellini? You see: there is an enormous difference between pure and empirical knowledge, an enormous and, without logic, incomprehensible clash between the a priori and the a posteriori, the vague mass of Kant's 'Grundstoff' ('basic matter') and the mathematical transcendence of the notion of God; these are no lessons given in secondary schools, my dear sir!"

Krleza's Kyriales from The Return of Philip Latinowicz

Alternatively



A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.
I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

--Emily Dickinson



"Logic! You say that, my friend, in a very dry way like a genuine born artist! But what do you think if you please, logic is? You think that logic means a book in stiff covers, a boring hour spent in front of the black pedestal of a crucifix, when the windows are open and outside the sparrows are twittering cheerfully in the leaves and rejoicing in the May sun? Logic means a cycle of bright, transparent crystal systems which are perhaps more valuable and are certainly a million times more important than your various artistic worlds and constructions. And why, if you please, should not the differences which existed between Plato and the Eleatics until Kant raised the brilliant question: 'Was ist Wahrheit?' ('What is truth?') be at least as valuable as the foolish naiveties of a Benvenuto Cellini? You see: there is an enormous difference between pure and empirical knowledge, an enormous and, without logic, incomprehensible clash between the a priori and the a posteriori, the vague mass of Kant's 'Grundstoff' ('basic matter') and the mathematical transcendence of the notion of God; these are no lessons given in secondary schools, my dear sir!"

Krleza's Kyriales from The Return of Philip Latinowicz

Dilettantish


I'm experiencing a serious case of writer's block -- and it's affecting both of my poor parched blogs as well as any attempts at scholarly writing. I can't even say why this is -- some vague sense of paralysis -- a lot of anxiety about the sort of writing I've been doing for these past two years. For how can I characterize the writing here? It varies so much from effusions of one sort or another to attempts at the distillation of an idea, to shoddy paraphrases of something I found interesting.

And I'm beset by a mixed sense of confidence as well -- confidence in my abilities in the classroom -- for once again I'm sensing that process in the classroom -- noticing the shifts of a conversation, testing the currents, asking questions and seeing as my own thoughts far outstrip my ability to observe them. It was my favorite sense from before -- a tangible knitting-together of my own thoughts -- I could see them as they incorporated what was said by others -- I could watch and tell when something was coalescing, crystallizing. And I have that heart-thumping sort of sensation -- it always happens when I'm on the verge of speaking, but only in the seminar, not in the other classes where I've found myself drawing -- patterns mostly, repetitive geometric tiling.

But the writing is a problem. I worry about this paralysis which I've felt before -- in NY when the jargon of the legal world started to take over my mind. And I also worry that my writing has always been my weakest area -- muddled, over-extended writing. Painful almost. I include too much, explain too much -- no sense of rigor or clarity. The constant comment is 'you tell a good story.' But here, with these logicians and doctors of analysis -- I fear that my flabby, rhapsodic writing will be shredded. I suppose it's the fear of being shown to be a dilettante and not some sort of 'noble' amateur.

Dilettantish


I'm experiencing a serious case of writer's block -- and it's affecting both of my poor parched blogs as well as any attempts at scholarly writing. I can't even say why this is -- some vague sense of paralysis -- a lot of anxiety about the sort of writing I've been doing for these past two years. For how can I characterize the writing here? It varies so much from effusions of one sort or another to attempts at the distillation of an idea, to shoddy paraphrases of something I found interesting.

And I'm beset by a mixed sense of confidence as well -- confidence in my abilities in the classroom -- for once again I'm sensing that process in the classroom -- noticing the shifts of a conversation, testing the currents, asking questions and seeing as my own thoughts far outstrip my ability to observe them. It was my favorite sense from before -- a tangible knitting-together of my own thoughts -- I could see them as they incorporated what was said by others -- I could watch and tell when something was coalescing, crystallizing. And I have that heart-thumping sort of sensation -- it always happens when I'm on the verge of speaking, but only in the seminar, not in the other classes where I've found myself drawing -- patterns mostly, repetitive geometric tiling.

But the writing is a problem. I worry about this paralysis which I've felt before -- in NY when the jargon of the legal world started to take over my mind. And I also worry that my writing has always been my weakest area -- muddled, over-extended writing. Painful almost. I include too much, explain too much -- no sense of rigor or clarity. The constant comment is 'you tell a good story.' But here, with these logicians and doctors of analysis -- I fear that my flabby, rhapsodic writing will be shredded. I suppose it's the fear of being shown to be a dilettante and not some sort of 'noble' amateur.

Memories/A Poem/A baby called Gracie...

Hi Folks,



Quite by chance Emily met someone who remembered he from when she was little. "Oh yes," the older woman said. "You were the girl who was always fighting!"

Emily was horrified. She'd moved away from that area almost 40 years ago and this, it seemed was how she was remembered. Had she really been so awful?".

A sense of guilt gnawed at Emily for days, until she decided to confess all to her Mum. Mum remembered and added to Emily's embarrassment by confirming she had been in a few scuffles back then - mostly with this woman's daughter. But it was almost always to prevent the other girl, who was a bit of a bully, from picking on smaller kids.

Well, that made a difference. Emily went from thinking of her younger self as a bit of a tearaway, to actually being a little proud of the girl she used to be. Sometimes seeing ourselves as others see us isn't all it's cracked up to be. As Emily found out, we need to see both sides.

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I saw this poem in Jo's site and thought it lovely, so in order to spread more beauty around this part of Blogland I was compelled to print it here too. By the way it's another one which has no name credited to it - which is a great pity.

My Special Place.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

There is a special place in life That needs my humble skill. A certain job I'm meant to do that no one else can fill. The time will be demanding the pay is not too good, and I wouldn't change it for a moment, even if I could.

There is a special place in life, a goal I must attain, A dream that I must follow, because I won't be back again. There is a mark that I must leave, however small it seems to be. A legacy of love for those, who follow after me.

There is a special place in life, that only I may share, a little path that bears my name, awaiting me somewhere, there is a hand that I must hold A word that I must say - A smile that I must give for there are tears to blow away.

There is a special place in life that I was meant to fill, a sunny spot where flowers grow upon a windy hill. There's always a tomorrow and the best is yet to be, for somewhere in this world, I know there's a place for me.

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Now isn't that really a touching verse - and a fitting way to finish - especially as in Jo's blog today she speaks of a wee baby called Gracie which coincidentally is my surname. This baby girl is just two months old and suffering from a complaint called Lissencephaly (Smooth Brain Syndrome), and apparently this means that she is very unlikely to live past 2 years of age.

This is one of these things that makes me, along with many thousands of other folks no doubt, rail against the unfairness of some folks lives, their lives seem to be knocked over and pushed aside leaving some innocent souls hurting badly and causing so much unhappiness. Jo asked that thoughts and prayers go out to the wee one's family. Who knows, this might even cause prayer to circle around the world, resulting in a miracle - let's hope so.


With Love from the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Kate xxx.

A Beautiful Fairy story + A Saying + funnie...


Hi Folks,

Let me tell you a story -

A beautiful fairy appeared one day to a destitute refugee claimant outside the Heathrow immigration offices. 'My good man,' the fairy said, 'I've been told to grant you three wishes, since you just arrived in England with your wife and three children . ' The man told the fairy. 'Well, where I come from we don't have good teeth, so I want new teeth, maybe a lot of gold in them.' The fairy looked at the man's almost toothless grin and --

PING ! -- he had a brand new shining set of gold teeth in his mouth! 'What else?' asked the fairy, 'two more to go ' The refugee claimant now got bolder 'I need a big house with a three car garage in Oxford with eight bedrooms for my family and the rest of my refugee relatives who still live in my country. I want to bring them all over here.. '

PING ! - In the distance there could be seen a beautiful mansion with a three car garage, a long driveway, a walkout patio with a BBQ , overlooking the river. 'One more wish', said the fairy, waving her wand. 'Yes, one more wish. I want to be like the British with British clothes instead of manjams, and a baseball cap instead of this turban.
And I want to have white skin like the British'

PING ! - The man was transformed, wearing worn out jeans, an Eagles T-shirt and a Billabong baseball cap. He had his bad teeth back and the mansion had disappeared from the horizon.. 'What happened to my new teeth?' he wailed. 'Where is my new house?'
THIS IS GOOD ....... The fairy said 'Tough luck, Numpty, Now that you are a Brit, you have to fend for yourself.' and she disappeared!

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Laughter, they say, is the best medicine and I'm sure it's true. One of my favouite quotations is also the shortest : "He who laughs, lasts."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Now here's a goodie... I wish it really was as easy as this...
How Beer Works

Click Here






Cheers for the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Love, Kate xxx.

A Company with terrible statistics and a couple of Funnies...

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~ OOOOOHHH Please don't shoot !
Hi Folks,

Can you imagine working for a company that has a little more than 600 employees and has the following employee statistics:

39 have been accused of spouse abuse
7 have been arrested for fraud
9 have been accused of writing bad cheques
17 have directly or indirectly bankrupted at least 2 businesses
3 have done time for assault
71 cannot get a credit card due to bad credit
14 have been arrested on drug-related charges
21 are currently defendants in lawsuits
84 have been arrested for drink driving in the last year

Which organisation is this? It's the 635 members of the House of Commons, the same group that cranksout hundreds of new laws each year designed to keep the rest of us in line.What a bunch of b*****ds we have running our country - it says it all. And just to top all that they probably have the best 'corporate' pension scheme in the country!!

HOW ADAM MET EVE......

Adam was hanging around the Garden of Eden feeling lonely, So God asked him "What's wrong with you "- Adam said he had no one to talk to, God said he was going to make Adam a companion and that it would be a Woman.

He said', this pretty lady will gather food and cook it for you and when you discover clothing she will wash it for you . She will always agree with every decision you make and not nag you. She will always be first to admit she was wrong when you have a disagreement. She will praise you !She will bear your children and you will never have to get up in the night to take care of them. She will never have a headache and will freely give you Love and Passion whenever you need it.

So - Adam asked God "What will a woman like this cost me"? God replied - " Oh an arm and a leg " ! Adam then asked "What can I get for a rib? " Of course, the rest is History !

DID YOU KNOW ...

If you had purchased £1000 of Northern Rock shares one year ago it would now be worth £4.95, with HBOS, earlier this week your £1000 would have been worth £16.50,
£1000 invested in XL Leisure would now be worth less than £5,
but if you bought £1000 worth of Tennents Lager one year ago, drank it all, then took the empty cans to an aluminium re-cycling plant, you would get £214.
So based on the above statistics the best current investment advice is to drink heavily and re-cycle.

OOOOppps...

Cheers from the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Love Kate xxx.

Story of the Frog that could + A Sting in the Tail Story..

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ The Frog that could !

Hi Folks,


Once upon a time there was a bunch of tiny frogs who arranged a running competition . The goal was to reach the top of a very high tower A big crowd had gathered around the tower to see the race and cheer on the contest The race began Nobody in the crowd really believed that the tiny frogs would reach the top of the tower You heard statements such as "No way it's far too difficult" and "They'll never make it to the top" or " not a chance that they will succeed" The tiny frogs began collapsing one by one except for those who in a fresh tempo were climbing higher and higher. The crowd continued to yell "it's too difficult no'one will make it ! More tiny frogs got tired and gave up At the end everyone else had given up climbing except tor one tiny frog who, after a big effort was the only one who reached the top. Then, all the other tiny frogs naturally wanted to hear how this one frog had managed to do it. A contestant asked the frog how he had found the strength to succeed and reach the top. It turned out that the winner was ... ' DEAF ' !

The wisdom of this story is never listen to other people They have a tendency to be negative and pessimistic, because they take your dreams and wishes away from you - the ones you have in your heart ! Always think of the power words have because everything you hear will affect your acts and thoughts. Always be positive and above all be deaf when people tell you that you can't fullfill your dreams. Always think " I CAN do this " - I hope this gives you some motivation !

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A young man was lost wandering in a forest, when he came upon a small house. He knocked on the door and was greeted by an ancient Chinese man with a long, grey beard. 'I'm lost,' said the man. 'Can you put me up for the night?' 'Certainly,' the Chinese man said, 'but on one condition. If you so much as lay a finger on my daughter, I will inflict upon you the three worst Chinese tortures known to man.' 'Ok,' said the man, thinking that the daughter must be pretty old as well, and entered the house. Before dinner, the daughter came down the stairs. She was young,beautiful, and had a fantastic figure. She was obviously attracted to the young man since she couldn't keep her eyes off him during the meal. Remembering the old man's warning, he ignored her and went up to bed alone.

But during he night, he could bear it no longer, and sneaked into her room for a night of passion. He was careful to keep everything quiet so the old man wouldn't hear. Near dawn he crept back to his room, exhausted, but happy.He woke to feel a pressure on his chest. Opening his eyes he saw a large rock on his chest with a note on it that read, 'Chinese Torture '...

1: Large rock on chest.' 'Well, that's pretty crappy,' he thought. 'If that's the best the old man can do then I don't have much to worry about.' He picked the boulder up, walked over to the window and threw the boulder out. As he did so he noiced another note on it that read: 'Chinese Torture

2: Rock tied to left testicle.' In a panic he glanced down and saw the rope that was already getting close to the end. Figuring that a few broken bones was better than castration, he jumped out of the window after the boulder. As he plummeted downward he saw a large sign on the ground that read, 'Chinese Torture

3: Right testicle tied to bedpost - Ooooooeeerrr!!!




Cheers, from the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Love Kate xxx.

Three Men on a Hike / Luxury / Love...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ An Example of Love, Balance and Co-operation....
~~~~~~~~~~ A Face with a lot of Character, and they say animals are dumb - what do you think he's saying right now ??


Hi Folks,

I found this wee gem in my emails recently and couldn't resist putting in on here -

Three men were hiking through a forest when they came upon a large raging, violent river. Needing to get to the other side, the first man prayed: 'God, please give me the strength to cross the river.'
Poof! ... God gave him big arms and strong legs and he was able to swim across in about 2 hours, having almost drowned twice. After witnessing that, the second man prayed: 'God, please give me Strength and the tools to cross the river' .

Poof! .. God gave him a rowboat and strong arms and strong legs and he was able to row across in about an hour after almost capsizing once. Seeing what happened to the first two men, the third man prayed: 'God, please give me the strength, the tools and the intelligence to cross the river' .

Poof! .. He was turned into a woman. She checked the map, hiked one hundred yards up stream and walked across the bridge.
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Graham, a friend of mine, was on a tube (Underground) train the other day and couldn't help but notice the couple sitting opposite. They were turned sideways in their seat so she was leaning against his chest and he had an arm round her, Graham said he looked on and smiled at the pair of them as they just looked so comfortable and in love. The tube train took a corner and for a few seconds, metal screeched against metal. The noise was almost painful. The young man winced and raised his hands to cover his ears. But halfway there his hands stopped. They changed direction and he covered his girlfriend's ears instead. As Graham said "Instinct makes us take care of ourselves - but it's love that makes us put others first." AWWWWWW !!


Cheers from the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Love Kate xxx.

Bosch or Bruegel

I'm working my way through Platonic dialogues, a variety of papers on morality and meta-ethics, and Krleza's The Return of Philip Latinowicz.

This idea, doubtless a diabolical and unhealthy conception, was that in life phenomena have in fact no internal logical or rational connection! That life's manifestations unfold and develop one beside the other, simultaneously: with the sort of infernal simultaneity of the visions of Hieronymous Bosch, or Bruegel: one within another, one beside another, one above another, in utter confusion, in delirium, in ceaseless unrest, which have been from the very beginning.


I don't have much to say -- I've been busy with a too-short visit with my parents and navigating a quagmire of student assignments. I'll hopefully start piecing my readings together -- the inter-weaving of texts has been pulling at me, but just off-sight -- half-glimpses of constellations when I keep finding myself lost in the darkness between lights.

Bosch or Bruegel

I'm working my way through Platonic dialogues, a variety of papers on morality and meta-ethics, and Krleza's The Return of Philip Latinowicz.

This idea, doubtless a diabolical and unhealthy conception, was that in life phenomena have in fact no internal logical or rational connection! That life's manifestations unfold and develop one beside the other, simultaneously: with the sort of infernal simultaneity of the visions of Hieronymous Bosch, or Bruegel: one within another, one beside another, one above another, in utter confusion, in delirium, in ceaseless unrest, which have been from the very beginning.


I don't have much to say -- I've been busy with a too-short visit with my parents and navigating a quagmire of student assignments. I'll hopefully start piecing my readings together -- the inter-weaving of texts has been pulling at me, but just off-sight -- half-glimpses of constellations when I keep finding myself lost in the darkness between lights.

A feel good tale and one not so good !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ OOOOHHHH Yeahhhh - that's soooo gooood !


Hi Folks,

A feel good story -

Jack didn't mind the rain. He had a long coat on and a warm house to go back to. But the homeless man huddled in a doorway was soaked through and shivering. Jack couldn't just walk on by, so he took the man, Bill, to the nearest charity shop and bought his some dry clothes. Then they stopped for some hot food.

You would expect anyone living on the streets in such atrocious weather to have a litany of woes, but all Bill, an ex-soldier, wanted to talk about were the people who had gone out of their way to make his hard times a little easier.

Before the two men went their separate ways they shook hands and Bill said, "It's wonderful where help comes from."

Heading home Jack couldn't help but remember, those words and that attitude. In helping Bill he'd been helped to see those who helped him throughout his life in a new light. "Bill was right." Jack told me. "It is wonderful where help comes from."

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and unfortunately -

I couldn't help but giggle at an article in last night's paper about a red-faced German lorry driver who had driven two large panes of high-value glass all the way from his homeland to the UK - then somehow misjudged the height of a bridge and smashed them.

Whitehouse Road in Swindon, just yards from the intended delivery address, had to be shut while shards from the two 2.3m by 2.6m panes, worth a total of £3,174, were swept up. "The lorry driver was very unhappy," said a Police Officer - yeah, I bet he was - OHHH dear...





Cheers from the land of the Heather and the Tartan, Love Kate xxx.

WD40 You'll never believe it - but it's true apparently...


Hi Folks,
You will probably think I've finally gone off my trolley, but apparently the stuff called WD40 actually does what it says here....

Water Displacement #40. The product began from a search for a rust preventative solvent and degreaser to protect missile parts. WD-40 was created in 1953 by three technicians at the San Diego Rocket Chemical Company. Its name comes from the project that was to find a 'water displacement' compound. They weresuccessful with the fortieth formulation, thus WD-40. The Corvair Company bought it in bulk to protect their atlas missile parts.Ken East (one of the original founders) says there is nothing in WD-40 that would hurt you...' IT IS MADE FROM FISH OIL' . When you read the 'shower door' part, try it. It's the first thing that has ever cleaned that spotty shower door. If yours is plastic, it works just as well as glass. It is a miracle! Then try it on your stovetop... It is now shinier than it has ever been before. Wowee ! ahem...

1) Protects silver from tarnishing.
2) Removes road tar and grime from cars.
3) Cleans and lubricates guitar strings.
4) Gives floors that `just-waxed` sheen without making it slippery.
5) Keeps flies off cows.
6) Restores and cleans chalkboards.
7) Removes lipstick stains.
8) Loosens stubborn zippers.
9) Untangles jewellery chains.
10) Removes stains from stainless steel sinks.
11) Removes dirt and grime from the barbecue grill.
12) Keeps ceramic/terra cotta garden pots from oxidizing.
13) Removes tomato stains from clothing.
14) Keeps glass shower doors free of water spots.
15) Camouflages scratches in ceramic and marble floors.
16) Keeps scissors working smoothly.
17) Lubricates noisy door hinges on vehicles and doors in homes
18) It removes black scuff marks from the kitchen floor! Open some windows if you have a lot of marks.
19) Bug guts will eat away the finish on your car. Removed quickly, with WD-40!
20) Gives a children's play gym slide a shine for a super fast slide.
21) Lubricates gear shift on lawn mowers.
22) Rids kids rocking chairs and swings of squeaky noises.
23) Lubricates tracks in sticking home windows and makes them easier to open.
24) Spraying an umbrella stem makes it easier to open and close.
25) Restores and cleans padded leather dashboards in vehicles, well as vinyl bumpers.
26) Restores and cleans roof racks on vehicles.
27) Lubricates and stops squeaks in electric fans.
28) Lubricates wheel sprockets on tricycles, wagons,and bicycles for easy handling.
29) Lubricates fan belts on washers and dryers and keeps them running smoothly.
30) Keeps rust from forming on saws and saw blades, and other tools.
31) Removes splattered grease on stove.
32) Keeps bathroom mirror from fogging.
33) Lubricates prosthetic limbs.
34) Keeps pigeons off the balcony (they hate the smell).
35) Removes all traces of duck tape.
36) Folks even spray it on their arms, hands, and knees to relieve arthritis pain
37) Florida 's favourite use 'Cleans and removes love bugs from grills and bumpers.'
38) Protects the Statue of Liberty from the elements.
39) WD-40 attracts fish. Spray a LITTLE on live bait or lures and you will be catching the big one in no time.
40) Ant bites. It takes the sting away immediately and stops the itch.
41) WD-40 is great for removing crayon from walls. Spray on the mark and wipe with a clean rag.
42) If you've washed and dried a tube of lipstick with a load of laundry, saturate the lipstick spots with WD-40 and Presto! Lipstick is gone!
43) If you spray WD-40 on the distributor cap, it will displace the moisture and allow the car to start.
44) You can even clean stains on carpets
I keep a can of WD-40 in my kitchen cabinet over the stove. It is good for oven burns or any other type ofburn. It takes the burned feeling away and heals with NO scarring.

Remember, the basic ingredient is FISH OIL.

This is a first for me to give out household uses for a product - but I am assured that it works - so who am I to argue with all of the above Huh ??

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Cheers from the land of the Heather and the Tartan, Love Kate xxx.

P.S. 'Bye folks - I'm off out to buy some WD40 ! By the way - there's summat wrong with my PC I'm getting three images instead of one - Wowee... that's not a bad deal eh ??? Mind you, they are rabbits and you know what they're like hehehe......

The Road to Happiness

Well ! I'm only learning.....

Hi Folks,
I received this recently and it so impressed me that I felt impelled to pass it on, I should however warn you that it is a bit of a weepy one - so have a hankie handy hehehe...... Enjoy!

Sometimes we convince ourselves that life will be better once we are married, have a baby, then another.
Then we get frustrated because our children are not old enough, and that all will be well when they are older.
Then we are frustrated because they reach adolescence and we must deal with them. Surely we'll be happier when they grow out of the teen years..

We tell ourselves our life will be better when our spouse gets his/her act together, when we have a nicer car, when we can take a vacation, when we finally retire.
The truth is that there is no better time to be happy then right now.
If not, then when?
Life will always be full of challenges. It is better to admit as much and to decide to be happy in spite of it all.

For the longest time, it seemed that life was about start. Real life.
But there was always some obstacle along the way, an ordeal to get through, some work to be finished, some time to be given, a bill to be paid. Then life would start.
I finally came to understand that those obstacles were life.
That point of view helped me see that there isn't any road to happiness.

Happiness IS the road. - So enjoy every moment.
Stop waiting for school to end, for a return to school, to lose ten pounds, to gain ten pounds, for work to begin, to get married, for Friday evening, for Sunday morning , waiting for a new car , for your mortgage to be paid off, for spring, for fall, for winter, for the first or the fifteenth of the month, for your song to be played on the radio, to die to be reborn... before deciding to be happy.
Happiness is a voyage, not a destination - There is no better time to be happy than ... NOW !
Live and enjoy the moment .

Now, think and try to answer these questions:
1 Name the 5 richest people in the world.
2 Name the last 5 Miss Universe winners.
3 Name the last 10 Nobel Prize winners.
4 Name the last 10 winners of the Best Actor Oscar.

Can't do it? Rather difficult, isn't it ?
Don't worry, nobody remembers these...
Applause dies away ! Trophies gather dust !
Winners are soon forgotten.

Now answer these questions :
1 Name 3 teachers who contributed to your education.
2 Name 3 friends who helped you in your hour of need.
3 Think of a few people who made you feel special.
4 Name 5 people that you like to spend time with.

More manageable? It's easier, isn't it ?
The people who mean something to your life are not rated 'the best,' don't have the most money, haven't won the greatest prizes...
They are the ones who care about you, take care of you, those who, no matter what stay close by.

Think about it for a moment.
Life is very short !
And you, which list are you, Don't know ?
Let me give you a hand.
You are not among the most 'famous', but among those to whom I remember to send this message...

Some years ago, at the Seattle Opympics, nine athletes, all mentally of physically challenged, were standing on the start line for the 100 M race.
The gun fired and the race began. Not everyone was running, but everyone wanted to participate and win.
They ran in threes, a boy tripped and fell, did a few somersaults and started crying.
The other eight heard him crying.

They slowed down and looked behind them.
They stopped and came back... All of them...

A girl with Down's Syndrome sat down next to him, hugged him and asked, " Feeling better now?" Then, all nine walked shoulder to shoulder to the finish line.
The whole crowd stood up and applauded - and the applause lasted a very long time...
People who witnessed this still talk about it. Why ? Because deep down inside us, we all know that the most important thing is life is much more than winning for ourselves.

The most important thing in this life is to help others to win. Even if that means slowing down and changing our own race.
If you pass on this message perhaps we will succeed in changing your heart, perhaps even someone else's heart, as well...

"A candle loses nothing if it is used to light another one."





Cheers from the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Love Kate xxx.

P.S. The lucky people chosen and asked to carry the torch of the meme shown in the previous entry are - Judy, the other side of the Hill and Little Old Me - A new way of Life ..... hehehe !

Current Addictions...

Hi Folks,

'Being Brazen' started this meme and Jo at Moodscapes passed the flame to me to carry it - the point being that I should mention five things which are my current addictions ... Now this sounds quite OK - doesn't it ? Well it's easier said than done folks. I'm sitting here in front of this flippen screen and my mind has gone completely blank - which is not at all unusual for a menopausal lunatic I suppose. I shall just do the usual and let my fingers do the walking as per normal . Okay then , here goes......

1) I'm addicted to the internet and blogging and if, for instance, I have to leave the house to perhaps go to the local store or God forbid, even further - argghhh... a faint feeling of uncertainty starts to make me heart pound and I begin to hyperventilate - this feeling continues until, at last, I'm turning the key at my front door to return to my wonderful friend - my P.C.

2) Jaffa Cakes and Fig Rolls are also addictions which have become a necessity recently and if I don't have a couple of packets in the kitchen cupboard I find that my concentration suddenly and unexpectedly leaves me in the lurch at the most inopportune momen........

3) I am really quite pleased that I have weaned myself off coffee recently - though, in the process I seem to have exchanged that need for a tea addiction and am now on the hunt for a liquid with which I may be able to exchange it - preferably non-alcoholic 'cos I don't like the taste (thank the Lord)...

4) The soaps on TV are irresistable to my flibbertygibbet brain at the moment - probably something to do with my lack of concentration - possibly has a lot to do with the fact that these programmes don't require much of that ...

5) I have joined an Art Class again recently and have once again got hold of the drawing bug which had me cornered and held me entranced all through my years of growing up - this activity seems to be the only one which I can enjoy as much as blogging......

Well, I think that about covers the meme - ahem, I meant to ask Jo - what's a meme ? Oh and another thing Jo, what's Pogo ? I haven't a scoobie ....

Oh my, I have just realized - this means that I have to pass this on - aarrrgghhh !





Cheers from the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Love Kate xxx.

Obscure



From this weekend's required reading:

The second source of (iii) is that A may be ignorant of some element in S. But we should notice that an unknown element in S, D, will provide a reason for A to φ only is φ-ing is rationally related to D; that is to say, roughly, a project to φ could be the answer to a deliberative question formed in part by D. [where A is the agent, S is his subjective motivational set, D is some member of S and φ is a verb of action]

[Bernard Williams -- Internal and external reasons]
[After reading to the end, things become clearer (and more like prose), but still -- I have such a hard time with this sort of reading]


From my non-required reading:

"Isabel sat up. Now was the moment, now she must decide. Would she go with them, or stay here and write to William. Which, which should it be? 'I must make up my mind.' Oh, but how could there be any question? Of course she would stay and write.

'Titania!' piped Moira.

'Isa-bel?'

No it was too difficult. 'I'll -- I'll go with them, and write to William later. Some other time. Later. Not now. But I shall certainly write,' thought Isabel hurriedly.

And, laughing in the new way, she ran down the stairs.

[K. Mansfield's 'Marriage a la mode']


Obscure



From this weekend's required reading:

The second source of (iii) is that A may be ignorant of some element in S. But we should notice that an unknown element in S, D, will provide a reason for A to φ only is φ-ing is rationally related to D; that is to say, roughly, a project to φ could be the answer to a deliberative question formed in part by D. [where A is the agent, S is his subjective motivational set, D is some member of S and φ is a verb of action]

[Bernard Williams -- Internal and external reasons]
[After reading to the end, things become clearer (and more like prose), but still -- I have such a hard time with this sort of reading]


From my non-required reading:

"Isabel sat up. Now was the moment, now she must decide. Would she go with them, or stay here and write to William. Which, which should it be? 'I must make up my mind.' Oh, but how could there be any question? Of course she would stay and write.

'Titania!' piped Moira.

'Isa-bel?'

No it was too difficult. 'I'll -- I'll go with them, and write to William later. Some other time. Later. Not now. But I shall certainly write,' thought Isabel hurriedly.

And, laughing in the new way, she ran down the stairs.

[K. Mansfield's 'Marriage a la mode']


A Holiday/Grandparents/DNA Imagine/A Poem

OK Bye Honey, See you next week ! and if you find my proper spectacles lay them by for me please !


OK, now that's tennis What's the next game I have to learn to play ??


OK kids you have 25 seconds, then it's the next lot's turn .......

Hi Folks,

Well, we went to Blackpool for a week and we got home safely yesterday - remind me never to do something which I was being told by circumstances not to do for a couple of weeks before I actually did it ! We left home about 9 am on Saturday morning 13 September, we only got about a mile and a half down the road when the love of my life had to stop the car and exit the vehicle double quick, in order to have a counghing fit. He then proceeded to be physically sick, at the side of the road. Thus followed the two of us having a deep discussion/argument, about the rights, wrongs and stupidity of trailing down 200 miles to Blackpool ... well I lost that one ! LOML (Rob) was determined to go to the deep darkest South as the apartment had been paid for and there was no way he was going to cancel now !

Did I ever tell you about how LOML was a determined so and so and an old git who hates to 'not' get his own way ? So eventually after he had recovered and the mess had been cleared up by spraying the ground with disinfectant mixture we then restarted on our journey. Rob did after a wee while feel a bit better and was determined to bend my ear on the journey telling me how it was just excitement etc which caused a tummy upset - nothing at all to do with the fact that if we had cancelled we would have lost what we had paid to the apartment owners...... The voice inside my head continued to speak louder - saying things like - 'This is a BIG mistake ' and 'You'll be sorry ' ! Most of the week was spent inside the apartment, Rob sitting about moping and moaning about feeling awful etc..

Never again will I listen to Rob trying to be selfless rather than just listening to my 'little voice speaking sense ' about turning back and cutting our losses, we spent the week - the dear love of my life moaning at his every movement (but not wanting to go to the NHS (Emergency Doctor) to get checked out... and thus being given some sort of pill or potion to help him, ARGHHH ! I realize I am probably coming across in this missive as being a bit of a heartless moan myself, but my brain reasons that if there is something wrong with you medically you go to see a Doctor who has been trained in Medicine and will be able to treat you for your illness/sickness and if not he can at least give some hints as to how to improve the situation.... Apart from the foregoing the fact that I had gone through exactly the same performance healthwise as dear Rob approximately 10 days previously . I was beginning to think I had hit my head off the wall enough so I was ready for climbing the said wall anytime !

You will gather that the week was a rather fraught 'happy' holiday. Never mind, I did manage to escape the sick-room to visit a couple of markets and bought a few pressies to go into our Grandchildren's Christmas bags, along with a couple of nice smelly things to add to my daughters-in-law gifts.

Changing the subject slightly - I was having a check over my Friendship Book tonight and came across an article about Grandmothers which caused me to add it to this post -

"Have you ever noticed how Grandmothers come in all shapes and sizes, especially nowadays when many are so young looking ? When I think back to my own Grandmother and also my Great-Aunts they appeared to be rather elderly, and sometimes even a little aloof. The one thing all these ladies had in common and still have. I'm pleased to say - is a great capacity for love. As one of my Sisters once said, they are rather like those delicious melt-in-the-mouth, chocolate-coated marshmallows which we've all enjoyed - beautifully soft on the inside !

Blimey that creates a lovely picture doesn't it ? God bless all Grandmothers and Great-Aunts, whatever their size and shape and wherever they may be."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
DNA Imagine...
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Very Interesting . This is really neat...try it ! When you click on the link, a series of about 15 pictures will come up. Click on a photo in the category that appeals to you. Again, 15 different pictures will come up, click the one for you and move on. Just continue to keep picking. At the end it will give you a profile of yourself.... It's called a visual DNA.... Your choices dictate your profile.Http://DNA.imagini.net/friends

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

It's good to get away from noise,
From chaos and from din
To seek in solitude and peace,
The beauty that's within.
To go into a quiet wood,
And breathe its loveliness
To contemplate in silence,
Those things which calm and bless

The mysteries of the universe,
The wisdom of the sage,
Take some old and lovely thought,
From a bygone age,
And meditate upon the good,
The honest and the true,
This calms the mind and you will find
A blessing comes to you.

By Kathleen Gillum.




Cheers from the land of the Heather and the Tartan - Love, Kate xxx.

Outside looking in


Briefly--quickly -- for the cat is yowling that we're up too late.

Tonight in the new sort of seminar -- feeling at ease -- surprisingly. Feeling that I had some abilities -- to follow an argument, to know which questions to ask of it, which questions to ask of a group. To know how to ask those questions and how to respond. And most of all -- actually knowing Kant -- knowing the philosophical arguments to which all of these contemporaries are responding.

The discussion was different in speed and ease -- many silent voices and quite a bit more presenting. It was also different in that there was so much reliance on outside sources -- even me -- speaking of Aristotle's Ethics, having to check if people actually knew what I was speaking about. But how can one read a paper by a contemporary philosopher who seeks to turn from Humean and Kantian morality and toward an Aristotelian system of virtues and 'hypothetical imperatives' without having read Hume, Kant and Aristotle?

Setting that aside -- I asked what I thought was a valid question -- namely, how does one proceed from establishing a system of morality that is based on hypothetical imperatives and not some internal principle of objective rationality (Kant) or subjective rightness (Hume). Or, how does one proceed after one has said that moral content is not inextricably linked to moral motivation -- that knowing what one ought to do does not give a reason for acting in accordance with that 'ought.'

And I was met with incredulous faces -- oh, we teach moral motivation -- we teach people to care about acting morally. And how is that moral content decided upon? Oh, that's still objective in many ways -- it's what is best, it's what is classically virtuous -- honesty, goodness, justice... But how do you teach someone to care about what is good? Do you expect them to discover its goodness somehow? It seemed I was the only one that thought this was not easily decided -- or at least I was the only one expressing this confusion.

And then I came across two pieces of writing -- one was an open-ended question in a friend's letter -- about whether all wisdom is achieved through suffering -- and the other is this quote found at Zolius, from a 1996 interview of David Foster Wallace by Laura Miller at Salon:

It seems to me that the intellectualization and aestheticizing of principles and values in this country is one of the things that's gutted our generation. All the things that my parents said to me, like "It's really important not to lie." OK, check, got it. I nod at that but I really don't feel it. Until I get to be about 30 and I realize that if I lie to you, I also can't trust you. I feel that I'm in pain, I'm nervous, I'm lonely and I can't figure out why. Then I realize, "Oh, perhaps the way to deal with this is really not to lie." The idea that something so simple and, really, so aesthetically uninteresting -- which for me meant you pass over it for the interesting, complex stuff -- can actually be nourishing in a way that arch, meta, ironic, pomo stuff can't, that seems to me to be important. That seems to me like something our generation needs to feel.

I think that is the heart of the problem -- and I don't really know how to talk about it at all. I just sat in front of this keyboard for far too long -- waiting for something to come to me. And I don't know what to say about his death -- someone who explored the questions of existence -- the Rhoda-problems of being and acting.

And the only thing I can think of is that today when I walked home the light was golden and slanting and I kept letting my eyes go out of focus so that I could see the light-shadows on the sides of buildings. And I saw two crows sitting on the wires above me and that the tips of one of my favorite trees were shriveling up. And that's no response at all -- but it will have to do.

Outside looking in


Briefly--quickly -- for the cat is yowling that we're up too late.

Tonight in the new sort of seminar -- feeling at ease -- surprisingly. Feeling that I had some abilities -- to follow an argument, to know which questions to ask of it, which questions to ask of a group. To know how to ask those questions and how to respond. And most of all -- actually knowing Kant -- knowing the philosophical arguments to which all of these contemporaries are responding.

The discussion was different in speed and ease -- many silent voices and quite a bit more presenting. It was also different in that there was so much reliance on outside sources -- even me -- speaking of Aristotle's Ethics, having to check if people actually knew what I was speaking about. But how can one read a paper by a contemporary philosopher who seeks to turn from Humean and Kantian morality and toward an Aristotelian system of virtues and 'hypothetical imperatives' without having read Hume, Kant and Aristotle?

Setting that aside -- I asked what I thought was a valid question -- namely, how does one proceed from establishing a system of morality that is based on hypothetical imperatives and not some internal principle of objective rationality (Kant) or subjective rightness (Hume). Or, how does one proceed after one has said that moral content is not inextricably linked to moral motivation -- that knowing what one ought to do does not give a reason for acting in accordance with that 'ought.'

And I was met with incredulous faces -- oh, we teach moral motivation -- we teach people to care about acting morally. And how is that moral content decided upon? Oh, that's still objective in many ways -- it's what is best, it's what is classically virtuous -- honesty, goodness, justice... But how do you teach someone to care about what is good? Do you expect them to discover its goodness somehow? It seemed I was the only one that thought this was not easily decided -- or at least I was the only one expressing this confusion.

And then I came across two pieces of writing -- one was an open-ended question in a friend's letter -- about whether all wisdom is achieved through suffering -- and the other is this quote found at Zolius, from a 1996 interview of David Foster Wallace by Laura Miller at Salon:

It seems to me that the intellectualization and aestheticizing of principles and values in this country is one of the things that's gutted our generation. All the things that my parents said to me, like "It's really important not to lie." OK, check, got it. I nod at that but I really don't feel it. Until I get to be about 30 and I realize that if I lie to you, I also can't trust you. I feel that I'm in pain, I'm nervous, I'm lonely and I can't figure out why. Then I realize, "Oh, perhaps the way to deal with this is really not to lie." The idea that something so simple and, really, so aesthetically uninteresting -- which for me meant you pass over it for the interesting, complex stuff -- can actually be nourishing in a way that arch, meta, ironic, pomo stuff can't, that seems to me to be important. That seems to me like something our generation needs to feel.

I think that is the heart of the problem -- and I don't really know how to talk about it at all. I just sat in front of this keyboard for far too long -- waiting for something to come to me. And I don't know what to say about his death -- someone who explored the questions of existence -- the Rhoda-problems of being and acting.

And the only thing I can think of is that today when I walked home the light was golden and slanting and I kept letting my eyes go out of focus so that I could see the light-shadows on the sides of buildings. And I saw two crows sitting on the wires above me and that the tips of one of my favorite trees were shriveling up. And that's no response at all -- but it will have to do.

The bow and the lyre


[Durer - St. Jerome in His Study]

Re-discovering Eliot through a re-discovery of Heraclitus and my reading of Durrell:

[...] There is, it seems to us,
At best, only a limited value

In the knowledge derived from experience.

The knowledge imposes a pattern, and falsifies,
For the pattern is new in every moment

And every moment is a new and shocking
Valuation of all we have been. We are only undeceived

Of that which, deceiving, could no longer harm.

In the middle, not only in the middle of the way

But all the way, in a dark wood, in a bramble,

On the edge of a grimpen, where is no secure foothold,

And menaced by monsters, fancy lights,

Risking enchantment. Do not let me hear

Of the wisdom of old men, but rather of their folly,

Their fear of fear and frenzy, their fear of possession,

Of belonging to another, or to others, or to God.

The only wisdom we can hope to acquire
Is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless.

The houses are all gone under the sea.


The dancers are all gone under the hill.

The bow and the lyre


[Durer - St. Jerome in His Study]

Re-discovering Eliot through a re-discovery of Heraclitus and my reading of Durrell:

[...] There is, it seems to us,
At best, only a limited value

In the knowledge derived from experience.

The knowledge imposes a pattern, and falsifies,
For the pattern is new in every moment

And every moment is a new and shocking
Valuation of all we have been. We are only undeceived

Of that which, deceiving, could no longer harm.

In the middle, not only in the middle of the way

But all the way, in a dark wood, in a bramble,

On the edge of a grimpen, where is no secure foothold,

And menaced by monsters, fancy lights,

Risking enchantment. Do not let me hear

Of the wisdom of old men, but rather of their folly,

Their fear of fear and frenzy, their fear of possession,

Of belonging to another, or to others, or to God.

The only wisdom we can hope to acquire
Is the wisdom of humility: humility is endless.

The houses are all gone under the sea.


The dancers are all gone under the hill.

Focusing


She was a walking abstract of the writers and thinkers whom she had loved or admired -- but what clever woman is more?

Durrell -
Justine

I'm back to weekly postings I guess -- though not because of some apathy or lack of desire -- mostly the days have become straining and the evenings a bit woolen through routine. That makes things sound worse than they are.

I've been reading Durrell -- now most of the way through Balthazar. I like his looseness -- the sense that what I'm reading isn't trying to say something definitively and that it's merely an examination of a set of related topics. The sort of writer who enjoys hearing many ideas -- all ideas seem equally good to me; the fact of their existence proves that someone is creating. Does it matter whether they are objectively right or wrong? They could never remain so for long.

But I hate his women. Again, I have no access to the sorts of women who are put onto pages. Not that I have much access to the men.


Let me see about this. Perhaps it's a specific sort of woman-character that incites me -- the woman-character who is identified by sensuality first and everything else second. After all, Clea is a character I do like. She seems to understand and to see past surfaces. Back to Justine and Melissa though -- these are women like La Maga in Cortazar's Hopscotch. Women like those the surrealists erroneously idealized. They hover at the brink of hysteria and nymphomania -- or at least so the men in their lives diagnose them. They speak deeply now and then, they see deeply now and then, but they are always brushed aside, they are always treated as a means to some end and they don't seem to expect anything different.

And I find myself noting little comments like the one above. To be an abstract and not abstract -- for these women are anything but that.

And then, of course, I start the spindling thought process -- how does one write about any person, man or woman? And hasn't this second book already revealed new aspects of the woman? Hasn't it refuted many of the previous assertions? (Just as the narrator is responding to and correcting the assertions of Arnauti and his version of Justine). The further I look into this problem of the personality, the more I'm convinced that Rhoda was right -- that it's all a great big cover-up -- everything -- the a prioris, the systems, the emotions, the histories. I think about how my own cover-up works -- my veil-throwing. And I call it a curse of awareness -- to sense the tensions and pressures and processes. I sometimes wonder if it all comes down to being vs. becoming.

It is a curse because it means no rest and no silence. The rest doesn't even come with sleep. My dreams have become parodies of the human condition. I dream narratives that loop and circle and contradict. I dream of injustices and crimes and of the strangest sorts of places. The rest may come with wine or with an especially fluid conversation -- for then the self is at its strongest-- it shines clearly and feels the warmth of the stage lights focusing.

This Rhoda-problem is very clear right now -- perhaps always clearest at moments of change and flux -- for then we can watch the self try and react in an 'accustomed' fashion to alien places and people. And once familiarity settles in, it becomes much easier to smooth over the inconsistencies -- the breaks in the seamless structure.

You see -- I'm an abstract too -- perhaps even worse, because I'm writing my own story, turning and focusing my own kaleidoscope.

Focusing


She was a walking abstract of the writers and thinkers whom she had loved or admired -- but what clever woman is more?

Durrell -
Justine

I'm back to weekly postings I guess -- though not because of some apathy or lack of desire -- mostly the days have become straining and the evenings a bit woolen through routine. That makes things sound worse than they are.

I've been reading Durrell -- now most of the way through Balthazar. I like his looseness -- the sense that what I'm reading isn't trying to say something definitively and that it's merely an examination of a set of related topics. The sort of writer who enjoys hearing many ideas -- all ideas seem equally good to me; the fact of their existence proves that someone is creating. Does it matter whether they are objectively right or wrong? They could never remain so for long.

But I hate his women. Again, I have no access to the sorts of women who are put onto pages. Not that I have much access to the men.


Let me see about this. Perhaps it's a specific sort of woman-character that incites me -- the woman-character who is identified by sensuality first and everything else second. After all, Clea is a character I do like. She seems to understand and to see past surfaces. Back to Justine and Melissa though -- these are women like La Maga in Cortazar's Hopscotch. Women like those the surrealists erroneously idealized. They hover at the brink of hysteria and nymphomania -- or at least so the men in their lives diagnose them. They speak deeply now and then, they see deeply now and then, but they are always brushed aside, they are always treated as a means to some end and they don't seem to expect anything different.

And I find myself noting little comments like the one above. To be an abstract and not abstract -- for these women are anything but that.

And then, of course, I start the spindling thought process -- how does one write about any person, man or woman? And hasn't this second book already revealed new aspects of the woman? Hasn't it refuted many of the previous assertions? (Just as the narrator is responding to and correcting the assertions of Arnauti and his version of Justine). The further I look into this problem of the personality, the more I'm convinced that Rhoda was right -- that it's all a great big cover-up -- everything -- the a prioris, the systems, the emotions, the histories. I think about how my own cover-up works -- my veil-throwing. And I call it a curse of awareness -- to sense the tensions and pressures and processes. I sometimes wonder if it all comes down to being vs. becoming.

It is a curse because it means no rest and no silence. The rest doesn't even come with sleep. My dreams have become parodies of the human condition. I dream narratives that loop and circle and contradict. I dream of injustices and crimes and of the strangest sorts of places. The rest may come with wine or with an especially fluid conversation -- for then the self is at its strongest-- it shines clearly and feels the warmth of the stage lights focusing.

This Rhoda-problem is very clear right now -- perhaps always clearest at moments of change and flux -- for then we can watch the self try and react in an 'accustomed' fashion to alien places and people. And once familiarity settles in, it becomes much easier to smooth over the inconsistencies -- the breaks in the seamless structure.

You see -- I'm an abstract too -- perhaps even worse, because I'm writing my own story, turning and focusing my own kaleidoscope.

The Tattered Stable and a Tag..

Hi Folks,


I saw this post on Jo's site and copied it as it rang bells in my head - As far as I can see , we in this country also seem to be going the same commercialised way unfortunately and as we know the powers that be here are 'trying ' to change our 'Christmas' to 'Winter Fest' ... If that happens the real meaning of Christmas will fade out - what a thought ! As it is, folk are being lulled into believing that the correct way to integration of faith, colour and ideas rests on whether or not we just sit and agree with all we are told, any different ideas are shouted down ...

Big Brother has arrived, settled here comfortably and is running the joint and we seem to have accepted him without complaint in order to be seen to be compliant and welcoming.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~
The Tattered Stable - Another Christmas Story..
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

I worship carrots

Away in the manger - No crib for a bed

The exhausted Lord Jesus Laid down his tired head and pounded it on the table again and again and again.

Oh Winter Tree, Oh Winter Tree, How lovely are your barren branches

The Nativity is empty, Save for the snowplow parked underneath

The tattered gable where an Angel once stood watch Shut your eyes children, shield your ears!

The courthouse lawn is strewn with 'religiosity'. Now go and watch your MTV, a mile up the road.

Three well-dressed kings of Orient are Hitching a ride in a gas guzzling carThey’ve lost their way… misplaced their star along the coastal highwayThere is no room in the PC ring for people who worship a small infant KingBut the credit cards are flyingPulled by eight tiny non-denominational reindeer Madison Avenue is praising Jesus.

'We wish you a Merry something 'So, have yourself a Silent Night - The choirs have given up the fight The instruments nestled all snug in their bed While Jesus is nursing his tired aching head and Peace on Earth is in the Court The First Noel - a brainless tort ...

"We the people of the United States of America have lost our collective minds and somehow allowed A fringe minority of frightened, rude and ignorant loudmouths to change the rules and manipulate the game Now the bullies are running the show and we are just plain running So help me ACLU. Joy to the World Unless it can be helped. The ones who never learned to play well with others The ones who took the ball home so no one could enjoy the game. They looked out the window and smiled at the snowplow parked under the gable of the empty stable.Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men on whom his favour rests."

Jo, I've got news for you, the people of the United States of America aren't the only ones to have lost their collective minds - meet your friends in this country too......

The above post was as a result of having a quick look around the large stores and seeing the paraphernalia on show in time (they're not kidding) for ' Christmas ' or 'The Holidays' or as it's becoming more commonly known 'Winter Fest' ..... arrggghhhh !!!

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My husband and I are going to Blackpool for a week, a wee Holiday, it will also give my husband a bit of a rest and get rid of 'his' chest infection - mine is nearly gone now but he is about 10 days behind me with it. Poor soul, as he is a man he has to suffer much more during any infection than a 'woman' hehehe... he is suffering like only a 'man' has to. Typically you see, his infection is worse than anyone else's....

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This next bit is concerning a tag I was issued with by grumpyoldwoman, the questions once again are as stated below - Okeydoke, I look forward to seeing the answers after I return from the wild hinterland called Blackpool in England, the country of our ' Auld Enemy ' hehehe ...... I'm only joking honestly ! and anyway in actual fact most of the folk down in that part of the World are Scottish - us Scotties get everywhere you see..

1) Where was I - 10 years ago?

2) What's on my 'to do' list for today ?

3) What if I were a Billionaire ?

4) Places I have lived ?

5) Bad Habits ?

6) Snacks I like ?

There's only 3 folk Folk being tagged and they are :

Judy -The Other side of the Hill...

Little Old Me ? A New Way of Life.

70 Plus and Still Kicking.
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Courtesy is like the air in tyres - it costs very little - but it makes travel a log easier !
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Cheers to Everyone till we get back to the land of the Heather , Love, Kate xxx.

grumpyoldwoman tag + Men are happier + Joke

Hi Folks,


I 've been tagged by grumpyoldwoman... Hi Grumpy, OK now........

1) Where was I ten years ago ? I was preparing to move to another area of Glasgow and was up to my eyes in packing cases - I had just remarried and was full of the joys of being a Mrs again - to 'live in sin' was something I found really difficult to continue to do, so after over eight years of 'sinning' he made an honest woman of me hehehe...

2) What's on my ' to do' list for today ? Not a lot - except looking after my youngest grandchild Louis 'cos it's Wednesday - At least he goes to Nursery till lunch time now, so I'm not'completely' knackered by the time he get picked up at tea-time. He's such a wee gem though - I really enjoy looking after him - he is 'such ' a funny wee man' (and just like his Dad)...

3) What if I were a billionaire ? Like you I'm not really very materialistic Grumpy, as long as my family and I have somewhere to stay and enough to eat - I'm not too bothered ! Mind you, that being said, I would love to stay at the sea-side again - If I'd money to burn I would again live back in Helensburgh on the shore road and spend my days listening and watching to the beat, noise and look of the water...

4) Places I have lived ? I have moved about Glasgow mostly apart from staying 5 years in a village in Lanarkshire, Stonehouse , a year in Clonmel, Co. Tipperary, Eire (which I loved). Oh, and a year in Stavanger and Oslo in Norway, where my husband of 20 years was working. Unfortunately the night we arrived he told me he had met someone else 3 weeks previously, so my marriage caved in. I had just arrived with my sons for a year , having rented out our house , nice ! but it was where I grew up and also enjoyed and made good friends which I can still count on nearly 30 years later.

5) Bad Habits ? Plenty of them no doubt, one which comes to mind is picking the sides of my fingers when I have a ragged piece of 'quick' or a ragged 'nail', instead of getting off my whatsit and using an emery board or clippers.....

6) Snacks I like ? a) Jaffa cakes - me too, yummy ! b) Cheese on toast mmmmm! and wait for it -c) Anchovies, I got to be addicted to them in Norway and I have to keep my hands firmly in my pockets when I find myself in the aisle where they are to be found in my local supermarket... Yeah! I know they smell disgusting but I "LOVE" the taste... Oh and goats cheese - yummay!


OK Grumps ? That's me lot ! Hey does this mean I have to pass this on to three other folk ?


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MEN ARE JUST HAPPIER PEOPLE - Yeah Right !!!

NICKNAMES
If Laura, Kate and Sarah go out for lunch, they will call each other Laura, Kate and Sarah
If Mike, Dave and John go out, they will affectionately refer to each other as Fat Boy, Godzilla and Four-eyes.
EATING OUT
When the bill arrives, Mike, Dave and John will each throw in $20, even though it's only for $32.50. None of them will have anything smaller and none will actually admit they want change back.
When the girls get their bill, out come the pocket calculators.
MONEY
A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he needs.
A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't need but it's on sale.
BATHROOMS
A man has six items in his bathroom: toothbrush and toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, a bar of soap, and a towel .
The average number of items in the typical woman's bathroom is 337. A man would not be able to identify more than 20 of these items.
ARGUMENTS
A woman has the last word in any argument.
Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.
FUTURE
A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.
SUCCESS
A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
A successful woman is one who can find such a man.
MARRIAGE
A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't.
A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change, but she does.
DRESSING UP
A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the trash, answer the phone, read a book, and get the mail.
A man will dress up for weddings and funerals.
NATURAL
Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed.
Women somehow deteriorate during the night.
OFFSPRING
Ah, children. A woman knows all about her children. She knows about dentist appointments and romances, best friends, favorite foods, secret fears and hopes and dreams.
A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY A married man should forget his mistakes. There's no use in two people remembering the same thing!

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A blonde finds herself in serious trouble.Her business has gone bust and she's in dire financial straits. She's so desperate that she decides to ask God for help.She begins to pray.....'God, please help me. I've lost my business and if I don't get some money, I'm going to lose my house as well. Please let me win the lottery .'Lottery night comes, and somebody else wins. She again prays.....'God, please let me win the lottery! I've lost my business, my house and I'm going to lose my car as well. 'Lottery night comes and she still has no luck.Once again, she prays.....'My God, why have you forsaken me? I've lost my business, my house, and my car. My children are starving. I don't often ask You for help, and I've always been a good servant to You. PLEASE let me win the lottery just this one time so I can get my life back in order. 'Suddenly there is a blinding flash of light as the Heavens open. The blonde is overwhelmed by the Voice of God, Himself.....'Sweetheart, work with Me on this.....buy a ticket!'




Cheers from the land of the Tartan and the Haggis, Love Kate xxx.

A Terrible Crash - Nature's Pharmacy...

... ... ... ... ... ... I love this picture - It always reminds me of Weddings ...

Hi Folks,

*Warning * This poem will give you goose bumps and create tears too...

A drunk man in an Oldsmobile... They said had run the light That caused the six-car pileup On 109 that night. When broken bodies lay about And blood was everywhere, The sirens screamed out eulogies, For death was in the air. A mother, trapped inside her car, Was heard above the noise; Her plaintive plea near split the air: "Oh, God, please spare my boys!" She fought to loose her pinned hands; She struggled to get free, But mangled metal held her fast In grim captivity Her frightened eyes then focused On where the back seat once had been, But all she saw was broken glass and Two children's Seats crushed in. Her twins were nowhere to be seen; She did not hear them cry, And then she prayed they'd been thrown free, "Oh, God, don't let them die! " Then firemen came and cut her loose, But when they searched the back, They found therein no little boys, But the seat belts were intact. They thought the woman had gone mad and was traveling alone, but when they turned to question her, they discovered she was gone. Policemen saw her running wild and screaming above the noise In beseeching supplication, " Please help me find my boys! They're four years old and wear blue shirts; Their jeans are blue to match." One cop spoke up, " They're in my car, And they don't have a scratch. They said their daddy put them there and gave them each a cone. Then told them both to wait for Mom to come and take them home. I've searched the area high and low, but I can't find their dad. He must have fled the scene, " "I guess, and that is very bad." The mother hugged the twins and said, While wiping at a tear, "He could not flee the scene, you see, for he's been dead a year." The cop just looked confused and asked, " "Now, how can that be true? " The boys said, "Mommy, Daddy came and left a kiss for you." He told us not to worry and that you would be all right, And then he put us in this car with The pretty, flashing light. We wanted him to stay with us, Because we miss him so, But Mommy, he just hugged us tight and said he had to go. He said someday we'd understand and told us not to fuss, and he said to tell you, Mommy, "He's watching over us." The mother knew without a doubt that what they spoke was true, for she recalled their dad's last words, I will watch over you. The firemen's notes could not explain the twisted, mangled car, and how the three of them escaped without a single scar. But on the cop's report was scribed, In print so very fine, " An angel walked the beat tonight on Highway 109." He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare. This morning when the Lord opened a window to Heaven, He saw me, and he asked: "My child, what is your greatest wish for today?" I responded: "Lord please, take care of the person Who is reading this message, their family and their special friends. They deserve it and I love them very much.

ANGELS EXIST but sometimes, since they don't all have wings, we call them FRIENDS.
AWWWW..... OK now ! I know I can't see through my tears - can you ?
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OK now let's come down to earth with a bump - I saw this article and thought it quite interesting what do you think ?

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It's been said that when the salt water was first separated from the fresh, and the dry land, a garden was planted and the animals and fish were made, all before a human. God made and provided what we'd need before we were born. These are best and more powerful when eaten raw. We're such slow learners... God left us a great clue as to what foods help what part of our body! Nature's own Pharmacy! Amazing!

A sliced Carrot looks like the human eye. The pupil, iris and radiating lines look just like the human eye... and YES, science now shows carrots greatly enhance blood flow to and function of the eyes.

A Tomato has four chambers and is red. The heart has four chambers and is red. All of the research shows tomatoes are loaded with lycopine and are indeed pure heart and blood food.

Grapes hang in a cluster that has the shape of the heart. Each grape looks like a blood cell and all of the research today shows grapes are also profound heart and blood vitalizing food.

A Walnut looks like a little brain, a left and right hemisphere, upper cerebrums and lower cerebellums. Even the wrinkles or folds on the nut are just like the neo-cortex. We now know walnuts help develop more than three (3) dozen neuron-transmitters for brain function

Kidney Beans actually heal and help maintain kidney function and yes, they look exactly like the human kidneys.

Celery, Bok Choy, Rhubarb and many more look just like bones. These foods specifically target bone strength. Bones are 23% sodium and these foods are 23% sodium. If you don't have enough sodium in your diet, the body pulls it from the bones, thus making them weak. These foods replenish the skeletal needs of the body.

Avocadoes, Eggplant and Pears target the health and function of the womb and cervix of the female - they look just like these organs. Today's research shows that when a woman eats one avocado a week, it balances hormones, sheds unwanted birth weight, and prevents cervical cancers. And how profound is this? It takes exactly nine (9) months to grow an avocado from blossom to ripened fruit. There are over 14,000 photolytic chemical constituents of nutrition in each one of these foods (modern science has only studied and named about 141 of them).

Figs are full of seeds and hang in twos when they grow. Figs increase the mobility of male sperm and increase the numbers of Sperm as well to overcome male sterility.

Sweet Potatoes look like the pancreas and actually balance the glycemic index of diabetics.

Olives assist the health and function of the ovaries

Oranges Grapefruit, and other citrus fruits - look just l ike the mammary glands of the female and actually assist the health of the breasts and the movement of lymph in and out of the breasts.

Onions look like the body's cells. Today's research shows onions help clear waste materials from all of the body cells. They even produce tears which wash the epithelial layers of the eyes. A working companion Garlic, also helps eliminate waste materials and dangerous free radicals from the body.



Love from Scotland, the land of the Haggis and the Heather - Love, Kate xxx.