There is blood and bone and flesh

Today I found myself disappointed, vastly disappointed. I had spent the week re-reading Aristotle's Metaphysics -- new sections that I had never before encountered; familiar sections that I had underlined and interleaved and noted with marginalia years ago.

And as I re-read these sections, I remembered why I fell so quickly for these thoughts -- for the understanding of being as something at-work -- the understanding of essence as that being-at-work, and of the intention of the essential as the being-at-work-staying-itself. When I first read this book I was in the middle of the most fruitful intellectual times I had ever known -- peak condition one might say. I remember sitting in discussion -- it wasn't sitting though, for there was such an indescribable sense of forces beyond -- funny thing to say about a classroom.

But those moments of discussion, I felt something that really was like the reaching beyond. And I remember that although Aristotle was 'the biologist' of the bunch, he was the one that, for me, came closest to painting the picture of being -- the true and accurate picture. Or at least as accurate as possible.

The readings for that term were so well-designed -- we were reading the Old Testament alongside Aristotle, and then Augustine and Descartes, and then Hume and Kant and then more Kant and Kierkegaard and finally Nietzsche. An along the way I was reading CS Lewis and George MacDonald and Dostoevsky and Woolf and Proust. And it was such a brilliant bunch!

I did some writing during that time, analog writing which I translated to a digital format before. But it still speaks so resonantly to me now -- things I want to talk about with someone -- someone who has done these readings, or other readings, or no readings -- maybe just someone who can see some handhold in this mess, this mass. I wrote:

Isn't the problem in resisting and hesitating because one wants to hold on to the potential self as seen from the outside? When we force the 'I' which is not clear or distinct to be a sort of precious jewel handled judiciously or flashed strategically, we cut the life out of it -- sever it from its root, its connection to every life-giving element of nature, every formative element of the environment. There is a cleft as the person grows away from her root and into her being, but there is no formal sundering. To do so is to rob yourself entirely, to dash away all those rich hues which alone can constitute personality.

Is it not better to rest yourself in something so final, so ultimate, so entire, that all that is required is to turn inward, to gaze at the core which disappears into a coruscation of light flooding in from the true root. We all open out through one cause and close up on it as well. There is no other way to be.

There is no hard self, it's a throbbing, living, rich and mysterious thing. It is neither of the present nor of the past, nor of the future -- it is of all, throbbing through all. It is both the single unit and the helpless part. It demands and needs. It takes and pulls and pries, but it gives and rests and lies still. It is a core and an anchor and it is a moment and a bit of ephemera. It is dark and earthy, it is clear and stellar. It is a blessed thing we have and it is blessed because it is thus.

'I am that I am,' He said, and we are blessed to be able to say that we are as He has made us.

When man seeks to reach out beyond the mystery that is part of his essence, he is seeking perversity, unnaturalness, cold and sterile non-existence. Whether or not there are other ways of existence is a question that is itself a mystery -- something to tell tales of and create stories about. They are not things to be achieved.


When man tries to 'perfect' himself he is trying to stab out the dirt of existence that is truth. Do not hide. Do not fool yourself with your own mask -- a protective device that wounds its wearer just as quickly as it fools the observer. There is a darkness, wetness, fertility. There is blood and bone and flesh. There is also mind, Reason (whatever that may be) and thought.

But this is the triumph and the misery -- the ecstasy and the agony -- as much as one so divided may feel.
We yearn to be pure, free, united and no longer at civil war, and in so yearning we fall, again and again and again -- there is disobedience in that childish, stubborn refusal to accept. What we are to accept is that we are in this state through fault of our own! It is a choice made at the individual level by one who by nature wills, chooses, decides. The 'by nature' part is tricky and seems to mean that our hand in committing the fault was forced -- and for what reason?

We always ask how we might be better, more excellent, more perfect, but we never allow ourselves to just dwell.


What does this word mean after all? Darkness, closeness, length of time -- we must dwell in our mysteries, fold them about us like great wraps of velvet, like great fogs of scent, like deep glades of green.
And as we dwell we must continue to live -- to be surficial as well, to skate and glide and dance, to flit and gleam and shine.

Our mysteries prove the necessity of our life -- we continue to shine forth as organisms because we dip down to that endless well, those 'fonds' of Leibniz -- because our mystery is in that connection -- in why we are permitted to drink ever so deep and bloom forth from those draughts.


I sit here -- heady with the scent of the peonies, awash in words. I was earlier aglow with the amber light creating webs between my fingers. Why do we crave discovery so greatly? We want to root it all out, bring it to the air, kill it with our breath of reason.

What a feeble thing that clear light seems now, now, against the pure light of truth.
The shallow but penetrating clarity of light; the deep and secret, perhaps dangerous, depth of heat -- cool, sharp clarity & warm, languid depth -- the well is both -- both deep and embracing and fertile -- life-giving -- and it is cool, active, lit with rays and fierce in its essence. We try so hard to do the fusion on our own, to combine within one person the facets of being which we can glimpse.

Oh that writing -- where did it come from? From whom did it come? Could that really have been something I scrawled in a journal? I see so much there -- Aristotle and Kierkegaard and Nietzsche and Kant -- and of course Lewis also.

But that was not from today, for there were no new discoveries this week -- no new connections. Today and this week was not like that term two years ago. We didn't even approach the facade -- one hour given to this book -- one hour.

There is blood and bone and flesh

Today I found myself disappointed, vastly disappointed. I had spent the week re-reading Aristotle's Metaphysics -- new sections that I had never before encountered; familiar sections that I had underlined and interleaved and noted with marginalia years ago.

And as I re-read these sections, I remembered why I fell so quickly for these thoughts -- for the understanding of being as something at-work -- the understanding of essence as that being-at-work, and of the intention of the essential as the being-at-work-staying-itself. When I first read this book I was in the middle of the most fruitful intellectual times I had ever known -- peak condition one might say. I remember sitting in discussion -- it wasn't sitting though, for there was such an indescribable sense of forces beyond -- funny thing to say about a classroom.

But those moments of discussion, I felt something that really was like the reaching beyond. And I remember that although Aristotle was 'the biologist' of the bunch, he was the one that, for me, came closest to painting the picture of being -- the true and accurate picture. Or at least as accurate as possible.

The readings for that term were so well-designed -- we were reading the Old Testament alongside Aristotle, and then Augustine and Descartes, and then Hume and Kant and then more Kant and Kierkegaard and finally Nietzsche. An along the way I was reading CS Lewis and George MacDonald and Dostoevsky and Woolf and Proust. And it was such a brilliant bunch!

I did some writing during that time, analog writing which I translated to a digital format before. But it still speaks so resonantly to me now -- things I want to talk about with someone -- someone who has done these readings, or other readings, or no readings -- maybe just someone who can see some handhold in this mess, this mass. I wrote:

Isn't the problem in resisting and hesitating because one wants to hold on to the potential self as seen from the outside? When we force the 'I' which is not clear or distinct to be a sort of precious jewel handled judiciously or flashed strategically, we cut the life out of it -- sever it from its root, its connection to every life-giving element of nature, every formative element of the environment. There is a cleft as the person grows away from her root and into her being, but there is no formal sundering. To do so is to rob yourself entirely, to dash away all those rich hues which alone can constitute personality.

Is it not better to rest yourself in something so final, so ultimate, so entire, that all that is required is to turn inward, to gaze at the core which disappears into a coruscation of light flooding in from the true root. We all open out through one cause and close up on it as well. There is no other way to be.

There is no hard self, it's a throbbing, living, rich and mysterious thing. It is neither of the present nor of the past, nor of the future -- it is of all, throbbing through all. It is both the single unit and the helpless part. It demands and needs. It takes and pulls and pries, but it gives and rests and lies still. It is a core and an anchor and it is a moment and a bit of ephemera. It is dark and earthy, it is clear and stellar. It is a blessed thing we have and it is blessed because it is thus.

'I am that I am,' He said, and we are blessed to be able to say that we are as He has made us.

When man seeks to reach out beyond the mystery that is part of his essence, he is seeking perversity, unnaturalness, cold and sterile non-existence. Whether or not there are other ways of existence is a question that is itself a mystery -- something to tell tales of and create stories about. They are not things to be achieved.


When man tries to 'perfect' himself he is trying to stab out the dirt of existence that is truth. Do not hide. Do not fool yourself with your own mask -- a protective device that wounds its wearer just as quickly as it fools the observer. There is a darkness, wetness, fertility. There is blood and bone and flesh. There is also mind, Reason (whatever that may be) and thought.

But this is the triumph and the misery -- the ecstasy and the agony -- as much as one so divided may feel.
We yearn to be pure, free, united and no longer at civil war, and in so yearning we fall, again and again and again -- there is disobedience in that childish, stubborn refusal to accept. What we are to accept is that we are in this state through fault of our own! It is a choice made at the individual level by one who by nature wills, chooses, decides. The 'by nature' part is tricky and seems to mean that our hand in committing the fault was forced -- and for what reason?

We always ask how we might be better, more excellent, more perfect, but we never allow ourselves to just dwell.


What does this word mean after all? Darkness, closeness, length of time -- we must dwell in our mysteries, fold them about us like great wraps of velvet, like great fogs of scent, like deep glades of green.
And as we dwell we must continue to live -- to be surficial as well, to skate and glide and dance, to flit and gleam and shine.

Our mysteries prove the necessity of our life -- we continue to shine forth as organisms because we dip down to that endless well, those 'fonds' of Leibniz -- because our mystery is in that connection -- in why we are permitted to drink ever so deep and bloom forth from those draughts.


I sit here -- heady with the scent of the peonies, awash in words. I was earlier aglow with the amber light creating webs between my fingers. Why do we crave discovery so greatly? We want to root it all out, bring it to the air, kill it with our breath of reason.

What a feeble thing that clear light seems now, now, against the pure light of truth.
The shallow but penetrating clarity of light; the deep and secret, perhaps dangerous, depth of heat -- cool, sharp clarity & warm, languid depth -- the well is both -- both deep and embracing and fertile -- life-giving -- and it is cool, active, lit with rays and fierce in its essence. We try so hard to do the fusion on our own, to combine within one person the facets of being which we can glimpse.

Oh that writing -- where did it come from? From whom did it come? Could that really have been something I scrawled in a journal? I see so much there -- Aristotle and Kierkegaard and Nietzsche and Kant -- and of course Lewis also.

But that was not from today, for there were no new discoveries this week -- no new connections. Today and this week was not like that term two years ago. We didn't even approach the facade -- one hour given to this book -- one hour.

the Witch Woman


[Redon - Smiling Spider]

"Once there was, and once there wasn't a family of three brothers ... "

My favorite spooky story is 'Teeny Tiny and the Witch Woman.' To watch it, go to the NHPTV Knowledge Network (check under the "Language Arts" section and then look in the "Holiday Stories" drop down menu). The video is in Realplayer format.

Happy Halloween!

the Witch Woman


[Redon - Smiling Spider]

"Once there was, and once there wasn't a family of three brothers ... "

My favorite spooky story is 'Teeny Tiny and the Witch Woman.' To watch it, go to the NHPTV Knowledge Network (check under the "Language Arts" section and then look in the "Holiday Stories" drop down menu). The video is in Realplayer format.

Happy Halloween!

Jokes and Funnies...

FIND THE MAN IN THE COFFEE BEANS:

This is bizarre -- after you find the guy -- it's so obvious. Once you find him - it's
embarrassing and you wonder why you didn't see him immediately?

Doctors have concluded that if you find the man in the coffee beans in 3 seconds, the right half of your brain is better developed than most people. If you find the man between 3 seconds and 1 minute, the right half of the brain is developed normally. If you find the man between 1 minute and 3 minutes, then the right half of your brain is functioning slowly and you need to eat more protein. If you have not found the man after 3 minutes, the advice is to look for more of this type of exercise to make that part of the brain stronger! And, yes, the man is really there !
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Hi Folks,


As my postbag is overflowing with funnies at the moment I have made up this post with a few of them - Enjoy !
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Two priests decided to go to Hawaii on vacationThey were determined to make this a real vacation by not wearing anything that would identify them as clergy. As soon as the plane landed they headed for a store and bought some really outrageous shorts, shirts, sandals, sunglasses, etc.
The next morning they went to the beach dressed in their 'tourist' garb.
They were sitting on beach chairs,enjoying a drink, the sunshine and the scenery when a
'drop dead gorgeous' blonde in a topless bikini came
walking straight towards them. They couldn't help but stare. As the blonde passed them she smiled and said ' Good Morning, Father ~ Good Morning, Father,'
nodding and addressing each of them individually,
then she passed on by. They were both stunned.
How in the world did she know they were priests?

So the next day, they went back to the store and
bought even more outrageous outfits.These were so loud you could hear them before
you even saw them! Once again, in their new attire,
they settled down in their chairs to enjoy the sunshine.
After a little while, the same gorgeous blonde,
wearing a different colored topless bikini, taking
her sweet time, came walking toward them.
Again she nodded at each of them, said
'Good morning, Father ~ Goodmorning, Father,'
and started to walk away.One of the priests couldn't stand it any longer and said,
'Just a minute, young lady.''Yes, Father?' 'We are priests and proud of it,
but I have to know, how in the world do you know
we are priests, dressed as we are?' She replied,
'Father, it's me,............ Sister Kathleen!'
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
A mother and her young son were flying Air New Zealand from Auckland to Sydney . The little boy who had been quietly looking out the window, turned to his mother and said, 'If big dogs have baby dogs, and big cats have baby cats, why don't big airplanes have baby airplanes?'The mother, who couldn't think of an answer, told her son to ask the flight attendant.So the boy walked down the aisle and asked the flight attendant, who was busy serving drinks. She smiled and asked, 'Did your mum tell you to ask me?' The boy answered 'Yes, she did'. 'Well then, you go and tell your mum that there are no baby airplanes because Air New Zealand always pulls out on time. Have your mum explain that to you.'
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Glasgow Rangers Football Team Manager flew to Baghdad to watch a young Iraqi play Football and is suitably impressed and arranges for him to come over to Scotland. Two weeks later the 'Gers are 4-0 down to Aberdeen with only 20 minutes left. The manager gives the young Iraqi striker the nod and on he goes. The lad is a sensation - scores 5 goals in 20 minutes and wins the game for Rangers! The fans are delighted, the players and coaches are delighted and the media love the new star. When the player comes off the pitch he phones his mum to tell her about his first day in Scottish football. "Hello mum, guess what?" he says in an Iraqi accent. "I played for 20 minutes today, we were 4-0 down but I scored 5 and we won. Everybody loves me, the fans, the media, they all love me." " Wonderful," says his mum, "Let me tell you about my day. Your father got shot in the street and robbed, your sister and I were ambushed, gang raped and beaten and your brother has joined a gang of looters and all while you were having such great time. "The young lad is very upset, "What can I say mum, but I'm so sorry." "Sorry ! " "Sorry ? " says his mum, "It's your flaming fault we moved to Glasgow in the first place!"
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Some one liners.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now that food has replaced sex in my life, I can't even get into my own pants.
Marriage changes passion. Suddenly you're in bed with a relative.
I saw a woman wearing a sweat shirt with "Guess" on it. So I said "Implants?" She hit me.
How come we choose from just two people to run for President and over fifty for Miss America?



Cheers from the land of the Tartan and the Heather - Love Kate xxx.
p.s. The man in the picture is approx at the 7 o'clock position in a clock ! Easy !

Migration of Golden Rays / Some Funnies.


Hi Folks,
This looks amazing ...

Looking like giant leaves floating in the sea thousands of Golden Rays are seen here gathering off the coast of Mexico . The spectacular scene was captured as the magnificent creatures made one of their biannual mass migrations to more agreeable waters. Gliding silently beneath the waves they turned vast areas of blue water to gold off the northern tip of the Yucatan Peninsula . Sandra Critelli, an amateur photographer, stumbled across the phenomenon while looking for whale sharks. She said: 'It was an unreal image, very difficult to describe. The surface of the water was covered by warm and different shades of gold and looked like a bed of autumn leaves gently moved by the wind. 'It's hard to say exactly how many there were but in the range of a few thousand. 'We were surrounded by them without seeing the edge of the school and we could see many under the water surface too.

'I feel very fortunate I was there in the right place at the right time to experienced nature at his best.' Measuring up to 7ft (2.1 meters) from wing-tip to wing-tip, Golden rays are also more prosaically known as cow nose rays. They have long, pointed pectoral fins that separate into two lobes in front of their high-domed heads and give them a cow-like appearance. Despite having poisonous stingers they are known to be shy and non-threatening when in large schools. The population in the Gulf of Mexico migrates, in schools of as many as 10,000, clockwise from western Florida to the Yucatan .
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
As my email postbag is bursting at the seams these days and included so many good funnies I couldn't resist posting them - so enjoy !

A lady at work was seen putting a credit card into her floppy drive and pulling it out very quickly. When I inquired as to what she was doing, she said she was shopping on the Internet and they kept asking for a credit card number, so she was using the ATM "thingy."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
I recently saw a distraught young lady weeping beside her car. "Do you need some help?" I asked. She replied, "I knew I should have replaced the battery to this remote door unlocker. Now I can't get into my car. Do you think they (pointing to a distant convenience store) would have a battery to fit this?" "Hmmm, I dunno. Do you have an alarm, too?" I asked. "No, just this remote thingy," she answered, handing it and the car keys to me. As I took the key and manually unlocked the door, I replied, "Why don't you drive over there and check about the batteries." - " Erm... It's a long walk."
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Several years ago, we had an Intern who was none too swift. One day she was typing and turned to a secretary and said, "I'm almost out of typing paper. What do I do?" "Just use copier machine paper," the secretary told her. With that, the intern took her last remaining blank piece of paper, put it on the photocopier and proceeded to make five "blank" copies.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

JUST A TAP ON THE SHOULDER
A passenger in a taxi leaned over to ask the driver a question and tapped him on the shoulder. The driver screamed, lost control of the cab, nearly hit a bus, drove up over the curb, and stopped just inches from a large plate-glass window.
For a few moments everything was silent in the cab, and then the still shaking driver said, 'I'm sorry, but you scared the daylights out of me..'
The frightened passenger apologised to the driver and said he didn't realise a mere tap on the shoulder could frighten him so much.
The driver replied, 'No, no, I'm sorry, it's entirely my fault. Today is my first day driving a cab...................
I've been driving a hearse for the last 25 years.'
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
A man went to the doctor to get a double dose of Viagra, but his request was denied."Why can't I have a double dose?" the man asked. "It's not safe," the doctor replied."But I need it really bad," the man explained."My girlfriend is coming into town on Friday, one of my exes will be here on Saturday, and my wife is coming home on Sunday." "Okay, I'll give it to you," the doctor relented. "But you have to come in on Monday morning so that I can check to see if there are any side effects."On Monday the man dragged himself into the doctor's office with his right arm in a sling. The doctor asked, "What happened to you?" The man said,...... "No one showed up."




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

Frost


Every year, as the seasons tick over, I feel as though I'm reliving my own perennial death and rebirth.

Now is the season of twilight, of low, slanting light, of cold, high clouds and soaking weather. Here, in this new place, this is the season of large massy clouds -- of dark green branches etched against pigeon-grey. There are also the glowing boughs of the maples, the few clusters of leaves still left. The leaves that collect beneath the trees remain and amass -- there are yellow collections and red collections and chestnut-brown collections. They repeat themselves in patterns I long to capture somehow.

I always think of Shakespeare in this season -- always of that 73rd sonnet --

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon these boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang

And when I think through those lines, when I arrive at Death, something always pulls up short in me -- I think of Emily Dickinson, of her certain slant of light which tells of the coming -- the slant of light which stops shadows short -- which causes the Landscape itself to pause. I think of arrested breath, of the pause, of liminality. I think of the cold waterway that flowed at the foot of the Tor -- that amazing place that I visited and wandered years ago. I think of the barrows there, and of the lines of force -- of white chalk lines drawn on hillsides.

Frost


Every year, as the seasons tick over, I feel as though I'm reliving my own perennial death and rebirth.

Now is the season of twilight, of low, slanting light, of cold, high clouds and soaking weather. Here, in this new place, this is the season of large massy clouds -- of dark green branches etched against pigeon-grey. There are also the glowing boughs of the maples, the few clusters of leaves still left. The leaves that collect beneath the trees remain and amass -- there are yellow collections and red collections and chestnut-brown collections. They repeat themselves in patterns I long to capture somehow.

I always think of Shakespeare in this season -- always of that 73rd sonnet --

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon these boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang

And when I think through those lines, when I arrive at Death, something always pulls up short in me -- I think of Emily Dickinson, of her certain slant of light which tells of the coming -- the slant of light which stops shadows short -- which causes the Landscape itself to pause. I think of arrested breath, of the pause, of liminality. I think of the cold waterway that flowed at the foot of the Tor -- that amazing place that I visited and wandered years ago. I think of the barrows there, and of the lines of force -- of white chalk lines drawn on hillsides.

Winter Shivers


[Hammershoi]

That Dresden china clock, which is running slow and strikes thirteen amid its flowers and gods -- to whom did it belong? Just think how it came from Saxony by the slow stagecoaches of olden days.

(Curious shadows are hanging from the wornout windopanes.)

And your Venetian mirror, deep as a cold spring of water, with once-gilt wyverns on its shore -- who has gazed at herself in it? Ah! I am sure that more than one woman has bathed the sin of her beauty in those waters; and perhaps, if I looked for a long time, I might see a naked wraith.

'You often say such naughty things, you rascal.'

(I can see spiderwebs atop the tall casements.)

Our travelling chest is also very old: see how that fire is reddening its melancholy wood; the faded curtains are equally old, and the discoloured armchair upholstery, and the antique engravings on the walls, and all our old things? Don't you feel that even the Bengal birds and the bluebirds have faded with time?

(Don't indulge in any dreams about those spiderwebs quivering atop tall casements.)

You love all such things, which is why I can live in your company. Dear sister with the look of bygone times, didn't you wish that, in one of my poems, these words should appear: 'the grace of faded things'? New things displease you; their brazen shrillness frightens you, just as it does me; you feel obliged to wear them out -- which is far from easy if you don't enjoy activity.

Come now, close the old German almanac that you are reading so attentively, even though it appeared more than a hundred years ago and the kings mentioned in it are all dead; and, lying on the old carpet with my head resting on your kindly knees, I shall talk for hours, O placid chils, in your dress that has lost its colour; there are no longer any fields, and the streets are empty, I shall speak to you of your possessions .... Is your mind wandering?

(Those spiderwebs are shivering atop the tall casements.)

--Mallarmé

Winter Shivers


[Hammershoi]

That Dresden china clock, which is running slow and strikes thirteen amid its flowers and gods -- to whom did it belong? Just think how it came from Saxony by the slow stagecoaches of olden days.

(Curious shadows are hanging from the wornout windopanes.)

And your Venetian mirror, deep as a cold spring of water, with once-gilt wyverns on its shore -- who has gazed at herself in it? Ah! I am sure that more than one woman has bathed the sin of her beauty in those waters; and perhaps, if I looked for a long time, I might see a naked wraith.

'You often say such naughty things, you rascal.'

(I can see spiderwebs atop the tall casements.)

Our travelling chest is also very old: see how that fire is reddening its melancholy wood; the faded curtains are equally old, and the discoloured armchair upholstery, and the antique engravings on the walls, and all our old things? Don't you feel that even the Bengal birds and the bluebirds have faded with time?

(Don't indulge in any dreams about those spiderwebs quivering atop tall casements.)

You love all such things, which is why I can live in your company. Dear sister with the look of bygone times, didn't you wish that, in one of my poems, these words should appear: 'the grace of faded things'? New things displease you; their brazen shrillness frightens you, just as it does me; you feel obliged to wear them out -- which is far from easy if you don't enjoy activity.

Come now, close the old German almanac that you are reading so attentively, even though it appeared more than a hundred years ago and the kings mentioned in it are all dead; and, lying on the old carpet with my head resting on your kindly knees, I shall talk for hours, O placid chils, in your dress that has lost its colour; there are no longer any fields, and the streets are empty, I shall speak to you of your possessions .... Is your mind wandering?

(Those spiderwebs are shivering atop the tall casements.)

--Mallarmé

The Caravanette/A Couple of Stories/Brussels Blooms.

Rob, Blimey he looks like he's acting like Lord of all he surveys ! at Lochgilphead.. Rob, Posing under a mirror ball opposite the 'Pleasure Beach' Fairground , Blackpool..

Hi Folks,

We used to own an old ambulance a few years ago which had been converted into a motor caravan - it was an ancient model but it had all the facilities you needed when you went away for a few days. It was handy that you could just drive in anywhere and bed down - it wasn't exactly the height of luxury but we travelled about in it for a while, but we found it was a bit heavy on petrol so in the end we had to get rid of it.

I'm bringing the subject up here is because 'Little Old Me' (a blogger friend) was talking about looking around at motor homes - the one we had though was not in the same league as the ones 'lom' was talking about. I remember the first time we went away on holiday we went to Blackpool . Hence this post - we toured around and went all around the area . It was great fun and while we were down there we stopped just outside of Cleveleys which is just a few miles down the coast on the shore road . Rob set up the wee portable T.V. on the Monday night so that I could watch 'Coronation Street ' and so on and I settled to enjoy my usual soaps. Rob then went to get a couple of parts at the garage along from where we were parked .

I kept being distracted by men passing and trying to see inside the van as they passed. One of them must have walked by oh! four or five times and it was really getting to me, I was a bit worried he couldn't see in as the window was blacked out although I could see him quite clearly. When Rob came back an hour later I told him! we ended up moving away sharpish 'cos I was really wary by now . It wasn't till next day that while I was shopping one of the ladies in a shop told me that we had parked in the red light side of town where all the gays go to enjoy themselves (dogging) ! talk about embarrassed - That caravanette was good fun and I indulged my hippie stage for a second time . You can have a lot of fun and you do meet a lot of nice helpful folk among the caravanners and campers.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
This next tale is a soppy one - so have a hankie handy.

A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the 4 pups And set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of little boy 'Mister,' he said, 'I want to buy one of your puppies.' 'Well,' said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, 'These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money.' The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. 'I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?' 'Sure,' said the farmer. And with that he let out a whistle. 'Here, Dolly!' he called.
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up....

'I want that one,' the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, 'Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would.' With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe. Looking back up at the farmer, he said, 'You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands.' With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully he handed it to the little boy.
'How much?' asked the little boy. 'No charge,' answered the farmer, 'There's no charge for love - AWWW, now I did warn you it was a teary one ......

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
A Feel Good Story...

Stuart sat on the bus feeling sorry for himself - until something happened. Most of the seats were taken when a man with a walking stick hobbled on board. Luckily one of the priority seats at the front was free. The man with the stick sat down gratefully and relaxed - for all of two stops.

Then a man with two walking sticks got on. Without hesitating, the first man left the seat by the door and came to sit next to Stuart near the back of the bus. "There's always someone worse off," he said smiling..

The conversation ended there, but the thought stayed with Stuart. I't so obvious, but we do occasionally need to be reminded of it. Stuart could walk off that bus without any help, so no matter what other problems he had, he realised he was already ahead of the game. As for his other problems well - when I asked him he couldn't remember what they were !



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

Intelligible


[Redon - Intelligible]

For by way of wondering, people both now and at first began to philosophize, wondering first about the strange things near at hand, then going forward little by little in this way and coming to impasses about greater things, such as about the attributes of the moon and things pertaining to the sun and the stars and the coming into being of the whole. But someone who wonders and is at an impasse considers himself to be ignorant (for which reason the lover of myth is in a certain way philosophic, since a myth is composed of wonders). So if it was by fleeing ignorance that they philosophized, it is clear that by means of knowing they were in pursuit of knowing, and not for the sake of any kind of use.

-- Aristotle's Metaphysics

Intelligible


[Redon - Intelligible]

For by way of wondering, people both now and at first began to philosophize, wondering first about the strange things near at hand, then going forward little by little in this way and coming to impasses about greater things, such as about the attributes of the moon and things pertaining to the sun and the stars and the coming into being of the whole. But someone who wonders and is at an impasse considers himself to be ignorant (for which reason the lover of myth is in a certain way philosophic, since a myth is composed of wonders). So if it was by fleeing ignorance that they philosophized, it is clear that by means of knowing they were in pursuit of knowing, and not for the sake of any kind of use.

-- Aristotle's Metaphysics

Things kids say / Talking clock / Funnies...

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ The Talking Clock !

Hi Folks,


Talk about out of the mouths of babes and sucklings - how about some of these things said by young 7 year olds when they were asked 'What they thought of beer'. Some interesting responses, but the last one is especially touching.

'I think beer must be good. My dad says the more beer he drinks the prettier my mom gets.'--Tim, 7 years old,

'Beer makes my dad sleepy and we get to watch what we want on television when he is asleep, so beer is nice.'--Melanie, 7 years old

'My Mom and Dad both like beer. My Mom gets funny when she drinks it and takes her top off at parties, but Dad doesn't think this is very funny.'--Grady, 7 years old

''My Mom and Dad talk funny when they drink beer and the more they drink the more they give kisses to each other, which is a good thing.'--Toby, 7 years old

'My Dad gets funny on beer. He is funny. He also wets his pants sometimes, so he shouldn't have too much.--Sarah, 7 years old

'My Dad loves beer. The more he drinks, the better he dances. One time he danced right into the pool.'--Lilly, 7 years old

'I don't like beer very much. Every time Dad drinks it, he burns the sausages on the barbecue and they taste disgusting.'--Ethan, 7 years old

'I give Dad's beer to the dog and he goes to sleep. '--Shirley, 7 years old

'My Mom drinks beer and she says silly things and picks on my father. Whenever she drinks beer she yells at Dad and tells him to go bury his bone down the street again, but that doesn't make any sense.'--Jack, 7 years old .
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Joke (The Talking Clock - shown above)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
After closing time at the bar, a drunk was proudly showing off his new apartment to a couple of his friends. He led the way to his bedroom where there was a big brass gong and a mallet.
'What's that big brass gong?'' one of the guests asked.'It's not a gong. It's a talking clock,' the drunk replied.'A talking clock? Seriously?' asked his astonished friend.'Yup,' replied the drunk..'How's it work?' the friend asked, squinting at it.'Watch,' the drunk replied.He picked up the mallet, gave the gong an ear-shattering poundand stepped back.The three stood looking at one another for a moment.......Suddenly, someone on the other side of the wall screamed, ' You Numpty! It's three-fifteen in the morning!'
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Some extra funnies...
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
My daughter (now 19) was about 2 years old when we sat down at the dinner table to eat. When asked if she would like to say the blessing, she was excited to pray. With hands folded and heads bowed she began...God is great, God is good, let us thank Him for our food..... if he hollers, let him go...eeeenie...... then she realized what she said and looked up at all of us who were laughing hysterically.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
A little girl was sitting on her Grandfather's lap as he read her a bedtime story. From time to time, she would take her eyes off the book and reach up to touch his wrinkled cheek. She was alternately stroking her own cheek, then his again . Finally she spoke up, "Grandpa, did God make you?" "Yes, sweetheart," he answered, "God made me a long time ago." "Oh," she paused, "Grandpa, did God make me too?" "Yes, indeed, honey," he said, "God made you just a little while ago. "Feeling their respective faces again, she observed, "God's getting better at it, isn't he ?"
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds. After explaining the commandment to "Honour thy father and thy mother," she asked "Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?" Without missing a beat one little boy answered, "Thou shall not kill."


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

P.C. Technical Support and a Meme...

~~~ Another picture puzzle - Easy though ! (Answer at bottom).
Hi Folks,

Have a look at some of these bloopers - supposedly from enquiries received by Technical Support - Service queries about 'Problems with your P.C. I thought some were really funny.

Tech support: What kind of computer do you have? Female customer: A white one...============== Customer: Hi, this is Maureen. I can't get my diskette out.Tech support: Have you tried pushing the Button? Customer: Yes, sure, it's really stuck. Tech support: That doesn't sound good; I'll make a note.Customer: No , wait a minute... I hadn't inserted it yet... it's still on my desk... Sorry....
==============
Tech support: Click on the 'my computer' icon on to the left of the screen.Customer: Your left or my left?
===============
Tech support: Good day. How may I help you?Male customer: Hello... I can't print.Tech support: Would you click on 'start' for me and...Customer: Listen pal; don't start getting technical on me! I'm not Bill Gates.
===============
Customer: Hi, good afternoon, this is Martha, I can't print. Every time I try, it says 'Can't find printer'. I've even lifted the printer and placed it in front of the monitor, but the computer still says he can't find it...
============== =
Customer: I have problems printing in red....Tech support: Do you have a color printer?Customer: Aaaah....................thank you.
===============
Tech support: What's on your monitor now, ma'am? Customer: A teddy bear my boyfriend bought for me at Woolies.
=============
Customer: My keyboard is not working anymore. Tech support: Are you sure it's plugged into the computer? Customer: No. I can't get behind the computer. Tech support: Pick up your keyboard and walk 10 paces back. Customer:! OKTech support: Did the keyboard come with you? Customer: YesTech support: That means the keyboard is not plugged in. Is there another keyboard? Customer: Yes, there's another one here. Ah...that one does work...===============
Tech support: Your password is the small letter 'a' as in apple, a capital letter V as in Victor, the number 7. Customer: Is that 7 in capital letters ?
= =============
Customer: can't get on the Internet.Tech support: Are you sure you used the right password?Customer: Yes, I'm sure. I saw my colleague do it.Tech support: Can you tell me what the password was? Customer: Five stars.
===============
Tech support: What anti-virus program do you use? Customer: Netscape.Tech support: That's not an anti-virus program. Customer: Oh, sorry...Internet Explorer.
===============
Customer: I have a huge problem. A friend has placed a screen saver on my computer, but every time I move the mouse, it disappears.
===============
Tech support: How may I help you?Customer: I'm writing my first e-mail.Tech support: OK, and what seems to be the problem?Customer: Well, I have the letter 'a' in the address, but how do I get the circle around it?
===============
A woman customer called the Canon help desk with a problem with her printer.Tech support: Are you running it under windows? Customer: 'No, my desk is next to the door, but that is a good point. The man sitting in the cubicle next to me is under a window, and his printer is working fine.'
==============
And last but not least...
Tech support: 'Okay Colin, let's press the control and escape keys at the same time. That brings up a task list in the middle of the screen. Now type the letter 'P' to bring up the Program Manager.'Customer: I don't have a P.Tech support: On your keyboard, Colin.Customer: What do you mean? Tech support: 'P'.....on your keyboard, Colin.Customer: I'M NOT GOING TO DO THAT !

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

I was surfing this morning and I found in among some sites that I had kinda missed for a week or so a meme on one of my favourites .. ' English Mum in Ireland' and I have copied and pasted it on here - so if you feel like having a go - enjoy !

By the way Em's site is a lot of fun and she has the ability to make you laugh in spite of yourself at times . She has quite a following which is understandable when you visit and I must admit to feeling a bit jealous of her 'way with words'... Although she is English she has the Irish way of talking - and you can hear the Irish accent while you're reading her articles. I love it 'cos it reminds me of a fantastic time I spent in Co. Tipperary many years ago, so if you get a chance to visit - call in for a cuppa and one of her cakes......

What are your nicknames? - Scaredy Kate (I call myself that at times ).
What TV gameshow/reality show would you like to be on? - Strictly come dancing.
What was the first movie you bought in VHS or DVD? - Casablanca.
What is your favourite scent? - Eternity .
If you had one million dollars to spend only on yourself, what would you spend it on? - House.
One place you’ve visited, can’t forget and want to go back to? - Norway.
Do you trust easily? - Yes.
Do you generally think before you act, or act before you think? - Act first.
Is there anything that has made you unhappy these days? - Grief...
Do you have a good body image? - I am fat , but I've come to terms with it...
What is your favourite fruit? - Bananas ...
What websites do you visit daily? - my usual commenters + a few others.
What have you been seriously addicted to lately? - Broccoli .
What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is? - I wasn't tagged...
What’s the last song that got stuck in your head? - Somewhere over the rainbow...
Favourite clothing - Jumper and slacks..
Do you think Rice Krispies are yummy? - Yeah especially with bananas ..
What would you do if you saw $100 lying on the ground? - Hand it in to Police.
Items you couldn’t go without during the day? - My P.C.
What should you be doing right now? - Hoovering ...




Cheers from the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Love Kate xxx.
P.S. The Name of the Image is I-Pod...... told you it was easy !

A Funnie and Carl's Garden ...

~~~ OK ! The name of this image is ??? what do you think ? Answer below!
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ It wasn't me ....... HONEST !

Hi Folks,


FOOTBALL AND THE BLONDE.... Out of all the blonde jokes, this one has to be the best... Football FINALLY makes sense..... A guy took his blonde girlfriend to her first football game. They had great seats right behind their team's bench.

After the game, he asked her how she liked the experience. 'Oh, I really liked it,' she replied 'especially the tight pants and all the big muscles, but I just couldn't understand why they were killing each other over 25 cents.' Dumbfounded, her date asked, 'What do you mean?' 'Well, they flipped a coin one team got it and then for the rest of the game, all they kept screaming was: 'Get the quarterback! Get the quarterback!' I'm like...Helloooooo? It's only 25 cents !
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The undernoted was an email I got from my brother-in-law John though not in the comedy vein I still think it's a beauty . It certainly turned on my waterworks - that's for sure, I loved it but that's me. I have copied it still as an email, if any of you want to copy and pass on that would be great - if not well that's OK too. Either way enjoy !

~~~ Carl's Garden ~~~

Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake.

Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.

Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us.

He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII.

Watching him, we worried that although he had survived WWII, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.

When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.

He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened.

He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, 'Would you like a drink from the hose?'

The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, 'Yeah, sure,' with a malevolent little smile.

As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled.

Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him.

Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it.

'Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?' the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.

Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head. 'Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday.'

His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.

Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, 'Carl, what are you doing?' 'I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately,' came the calm reply.
Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place.

A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was
unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose

This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water.

When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done.

Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering.

The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches.

As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.

'Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time.'
The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.

'What's this?' Carl asked. 'It's your stuff,' the man explained. 'It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet.' 'I don't understand,' Carl said. 'Why would you help me now?'

The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. 'I learned something from you,' he said. 'I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate.'

He stopped for a moment. 'I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back.'

He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. 'That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess.' And with that, he walked off down the street.

Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.

He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather.

In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church.

The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life.
In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, 'Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden.'

The following spring another flyer went up. It read: 'Person needed to care for Carl's garden.'

The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door.

Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. 'I believe this is my job, if you'll have me,' the young man said.
The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl.

He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, 'Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him.'

The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done.

During that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.

One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, 'My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday.'

'Well, congratulations!' said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. 'That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?'
'Carl,' he replied.

That's the whole message simply stated.
Take 60 seconds give this a shot!
All you do is:

1. Simply say a small prayer for the person who sent you this.

" God bless this person in whatever it is that you know he or she may be needing today."

2. Then send it on to five other people. Within hours five people have prayed for you, and you caused a multitude of people to pray to God for other people.
GOOD FRIENDS ARE LIKE ANGELS, YOU DON'T HAVE TO SEE THEM TO KNOW THEY ARE THERE


Cheers from the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Love Kate xxx.
P.S. Awww... I wonder how many folk are still dry eyed ?
P.P.S. The answer is 'Dandy Lions' ... Did you get it ?

2 Feel Good Stories and Some Funnies...

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ A Scotsman's bar stool
Hi Folks,

A friend Dawn and I were discussing the trials and pitfalls of bringing up children the other day. She recalled the first time she had left her son Alex at home by himself. Alex was 18 and Dawn had heard enough horror stories to convince her there would be a party in the flat the moment she left town. Amazingly though everything was fine when she got back.

It was only a few weeks later, when Dawn was discussing her trip with her downstairs neighbour, that she found out what had really happened. The neighbour had gone up to ask Alex to turn his music down, Alex had apologised and turned it down right away. There was no party and no-one else in the flat - and the next morning Alex knocked the neighbour's door and apologised for the noise. Like Dawn, we often fear the worst with our children but, as Alex quietly proved, most of them as boys and girls to be proud of.

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

Stacey reckoned it was a daft idea when someone suggested it. It would be embarrassing. Then, standing at the checkout of a DIY store, she cheerfully asked the assistant taking care of her purchase. "So what's making you smile today?"

The assistant looked puzzled for a moment, then her expression softened and she told Stacey all about a weekend away her family had just been on. Filled with a new courage, Stacey started asking more people, she found that no matter how dour a person seemed at first, when asked to find a smile they could. Being reminded of it brightened their day and that brightened Stacey's day. Now she even has it on her answering machine. So - with thanks to Stacey for the idea - you know what I'm going to ask you, don't you? What's making you smile today?

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

John has been very busy sending me lots of funnies and I like sharing smiles - enjoy!

An elderly couple were on a cruise and it was really stormy. They were standing on the back of the boat watching the moon, when a wave came up and washed the old woman overboard. They searched for days and couldn't find her, so the captain sent the old man back to shore with the promise that he would notify him as soon as they found something. Three weeks went by and finally the old man got a fax from the boat. It read: 'Sir, sorry to inform you, we found your wife dead at the bottom of the ocean We hauled her up to the deck and attached to her butt was an oyster and in it was a pearl worth $50,000 . . please advise.' The old man faxed back: 'Send me the pearl and re-bait the trap.'

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

Whether Liberal or Labour , I think you'll get a kick out of this! A little boy goes to his dad and asks, 'What is Politics?' Dad says, 'Well son, let me try to explain it this way: I am the head of the family, so call me The Prime Minister. Your mother is the administrator of the money, so we call her the Government. We are here to take care of your needs, so we will call you the People. The nanny, we will consider her the Working Class. and your baby brother, we will call him the Future. Now think about that and see if it makes sense.' So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said. Later that night,! he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has severely soiled his nappy. So the little boy goes to his parent's room and finds his mother asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed. The next morning, the little boy says to his father,
'Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now. ' The father says, 'Good, son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about.' The little boy replies,

'The prime Minister is screwing the Working Class while the Government is sound asleep.
The People are being ignored and the Future is in deep doodoo "!
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Subject: Quickie

An old man, Mr. Wallace, was living in a nursing home.
One day he appeared to be very sad and depressed.
Nurse Tracy asked him if there was anything wrong.
'Yes, Nurse,' said Mr. Wallace. 'My Private Parts died today, and I am very sad.'
Knowing her patients were a little forgetful and sometimes a little crazy, she replied, 'Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Wallace. Please accept my condolences.'
The following day, Mr. Wallace was walking down the hall with his Private Parts hanging out of his pajamas.
When he met Nurse Tracy she said, 'Mr. Wallace, you shouldn't be walking down the hall like that. Please put your Private Parts back inside your pajamas.' 'But, Nurse Tracy I can't,' replied Mr. Wallace. 'I told you yesterday that my Private Parts died. 'Yes,' said Nurse Tracy, 'you did tell me that, but why is it hanging out of your pajamas?'

(You've gotta love this ....) "Well," he replied, 'Today is the viewing."



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

Wise Words / Some Funny Stories and Sayings...

Hi Folks,


Try as she might, Wilma just couldn't shake hubby Donald out of his mood. At first he insisted he wasn't even in a mood, then he confessed he felt he'd been passed over for a promotion at work. He was disappointed and didn't see why he should try and be more cheerful.

So Wilma offered him a deal, Donald could mope about his lost promotion and she would mope because it was the anniversary of her Mum's death. Did he want to compare miseries - or get on and have a happier day ? No surprise that Donald, who'd forgotten what date it was, quickly chose the latter.

As Wilma said to me. "If you focus on your unhappiness you'll find there are always going to be people worse off than you. But if your main focus is on happiness, well - you'll be hard-pressed to find anyone in the world better off !"

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

As it's Silly Saturday - I am adding a couple of funny stories and sayings...

An older couple is lying in bed one morning.They had just awakened from a good night's sleep.He takes her hand and she responds, 'Don't touch me.''Why not?' he asked.She answered, 'Because I'm dead'The husband asked'What are you talking about?We're both lying here in bed together and talking to one another!'She said, 'No, I'm definitely dead.'He insisted, 'You are not dead.What in the world makes you think you're dead?' 'Because I woke up this morning and nothing hurts.'

FUNNY AND SOOOO TRUE!!!!
Husband and wife are shopping in Tesco's when the man picks up a crate of Stella and sticks them into the trolley 'What do you think you're doing?' asks the wife 'They're on offer, only £10 for 24 cans', he says 'Put them back. We can't afford it,' says the wife and they carry on shopping. A few aisles later the woman picks up a £20 jar of face cream and sticks it into the trolley. 'What do you think you're doing?' asks the man, 'It's my face cream. It makes me look beautiful,' she says. The man replies... 'SO DOES 24 CANS OF STELLA AND IT'S HALF THE FLIPPIN PRICE'

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Remember...Once you get over the hill, you'll begin to pick up speed.

I love cooking with wine.. Sometimes I even put some in the food. ..

If it weren't for STRESS, I'd have no energy at all.

Whatever hits the fan... Will Not Be Evenly Distributed.

Everyone has a photographic memory. Some, like me, just don't have any film.

I always know ..... God won't give me more than I can handle.

There are times I just wish He didn't trust me quite so much.

Dogs Have Owners ~ Cats Have Staff .

If the shoe fits ... buy a pair in every colour.





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

Pages

I keep many journals -- some are more involved than others -- some more tangible than others.

Here are some pages:

















Pages

I keep many journals -- some are more involved than others -- some more tangible than others.

Here are some pages:

















Presents for Folk with everything and A Feel Good Tale.

A DAY CLOCK ... What day is today? You don't know? Then you need a Day Clock. It's uniquely designed to keep track of weekly events like your golf day, card night, movie night, and so much more. It's ideal for vacations and cruises when it's easy to lose track of the day.

Hi Folks,


Well then, how about any of these brilliant inventions for your Christmas Present eh ? Ahem, I thought not - me neither ! I reckon it will just have to be jewellery and smelly things again then I suppose hehehe... Mind you I quite liked the idea of 'The Thing' although thinking about it I would really need the baby to go with it. Oh I would so like to have another baby in the family again, a wee coo-ering, cuddling lovely wee Johnson's Talcum Powdered baby... Oh that makes me feel so broody.........

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Rachel Allan was born 15 weeks premature, measuring just 10 inches long and weighing just a mere 1lb. 9oz. Her first three weeks of life were spent in an incubator at the Simpson Memorial Maternity Hospital in Edinburgh where she was given oxygen and steroids. It was only after she came out that her parents, Joan and Martin, could hold their daughter for the first time.

She also had to undergo an operation to repair her sight, just one of several setbacks to be overcome. The newborn remained in Simpson's for four months. While the family praised all the staff they always singled out the skill and dedication of the consultant neonatologist. Dr Ian Laing for helping Rachel pull through.

Over the years Rachel has gone fron strength to strength, and recently she celebrated her 18th birthday with a party for close family and friends. But during the revelries the birthday girl looked out of the window and was stunned to see a familiar figure approaching.

It was - Dr Ian Laing. A year previously Rachel had emailed Dr Laing at the hospital and they'd met up for the first time in 17 years. What she didn't know was that her dad Martin, had contacted the doctor again and invited him to be her surprise birthday guest. Shocked to see him, Rachel burst into tears of happiness and gratitude. He was one of those who gave her the best present she could have asked for - life !
Awww... I just love a 'feel-good' story.
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I had heard the term 'Dust if you must' before, but I had never heard the whole story until I received it in an email the other day - so I'm including it here. Enjoy - I did...
Subject: Housework

Remember...a layer of dust protects the Wood beneath it.
'A house becomes a home when you can write 'I love you' on the furniture .' I used to spend at least 8 hours every weekend making sure things were just perfect - 'in case someone came over' Finally I realized one day that no-one came over; they were all out living life and having fun! NOW, when people visit, I don't have to explain the 'condition' of my home . They are more interested in hearing about the things I've been doing while I was away living life and having fun. If you haven't figured this out yet, please heed this advice. Life is short. Enjoy it!
Dust if you must ....... but wouldn't it be better to paint a picture or write a letter, bake a cake and lick the spoon or plant a seed, ponder the difference between want and need !
Dust if you must, but there's not much time . . . . with wine to drink , rivers to swim and mountains to climb , music to hear and books to read, friends to cherish and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world's out there with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair, a flutter of snow, a shower of rain. This day will never come around, again.
Dust if you must , but bear in mind, old age will come and it's not kind. . . And when you go - and go you must - you, yourself will make more dust!
It's not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.


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

A Walk and Two Funnies./ P.C. Problems...


Hi Folks,


Having a bit of a walk the other day I saw ahead of me a family who had been walking in a wooded area of the park. Perhaps the Mum had been explaining the seasons to her children, because her son, aged about four, suddenly started running through piles of brown and yellow leaves, kicking them into the air. He yelled and laughed as he dashed around with leaves raining down around him.
I had to admire his enthusiasm, while the rest of us are still moaning about the *dreich summer this little fellow was getting alll excited about Autumn. Now I don't recommend running around, kicking up a storm of leaves - it might get us older ones some distinctly funny looks. But sharing a little of the wee boy's excitement might be no bad thing.

Autumn has plenty of charms of its own, so let's not sit about miserable rueing the summer that never happened. Let's get out in nature's glory and - like my young friend - find something to shout about !
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My Cousin Maggie hates flying, she hasn't had a particularly had a bad experience in the air , but all of these strange noises - bumps, thumps, shudders and judders - scare the hell out of her. So she wasn't looking forward to her flight to Prague to an important conference last week.

When I met her the day after she got back I was expecting her to tell me how her flights were and she gave me an entirely unexpected answer- "Brilliant!" How come? She'd ended up sitting next to an off-duty pilot on the way there. He's talked her through all the noises and wobbles for the whole journey.

On the way back Maggie knew what was going on and didn't feel nearly as jumpy. It looks like her fear may have been conquered. It just shows you sometimes help comes when we least expect it - even 30,000 feet up.
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~ Now a couple of laughs from John's Postbag .

Two elderly women were eating breakfast in a restaurant one morning. Ethel noticed something funny about Mabel's ear and she said, ''Mabel, do you know you've got a suppository in your left ear?' Mabel answered, 'I have a suppository in my ear?' She pulled it out and stared at it. Then she said, 'Ethel, I'm glad you saw this thing. Now I think I know where to find my hearing aid.'
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Two elderly ladies had been friends for many decades. Over the years they had shared all kinds of activities and adventures. Lately, their activities had been limited to meeting a few times a week to play cards. One day they were playing cards when one looked at the other and said, 'Now don't get mad at me. I know we've been friends for a long time.....but I just can't think of your name! I've thought and thought, but I can't remember it. Please tell me what your name is.' Her friend glared at her. For at least three minutes she just stared and glared at her. Finally she said, 'How soon do you need to know?'
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THE SENILITY PRAYER Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to tell the difference.


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

* Dreich = dull, wet and miserable...
Talking about miserable, I will need to give my p.c. system a bit of a rest as it has been giving me problems and I'm hoping that giving it a rest will help - somehow. If it doesn't help anything I will have to shell out some 'spondulux' on a new system and you know what they say about tight-wad Scottish people - hehehehe... I know, I shouldn't really perpetuate the myth that Scottish people are tight with money - it's really our downstairs neighbours that are tight - right ? hehehehe.... Only kidding folks !
I'll give it a couple of days and if nought is helping, then I'll contact my engineer to see what he says - in the meantime, I will just say that 'normal service will be resumed as soon as possible ' .
Cheers for now from the land of the Tartan and the Heather - Love Kate xxx.

Beautiful Gardens in the Fall / Peter's Treasure...


Hi Folks,



Aren't these pictures incredibly beautiful, they were taken at Butchart Gardens, Victoria, British Columbia in Canada. Talk about God's paintbrush ... It's impossible to improve on them so I'll just add a post from my friendship book - and add another wee gem too.
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Peter was devastated when his Grandad died last month. He would often pop in and visit the old man when he was a boy and Grandad would pour him a glass of limeade, open a packet of Jammie Dodgers and they would sit and play a game of Ludo.

But Peter's favourite times were when his Grandad would go over to the old chest in the corner of the Living Room and delve inside. He kept masses of old family photos in there. Peter loved looking at the pictures of his family in their younger days and all the faces of ancestors long since gone.

Last week, when it came to the sad task of hearing what Grandad had left to people, Peter was stunned and moved when it was revealed the old man had entrusted the chest full of photos to him. He's vowed to take care of that special chest as it it was full of the most precious treasure.

Which , in a way it is of course...
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My friend's little girl, Helen, was watching a TV programme with her Dad about people searching their family trees. The 10 year old was fascinated and after the show finished she disappeared to her bedroom.

An hour later she came back with a sheet of paper clenched in her hand. "What's this ?" her Dad asked "A seed," she replied proudly. Seeing her Dad's puzzled look wshe explained that as she didn't know anything about her ancestors she'd decided to grow her own family tree.

She'd written down information about her life so far and said she'd keep adding to it over the years. "Then when I have children I'll get them to add their stories to it, too ."

It sounds like a super plan. So if you don't have a family tree already why not do the same as Helen and plant one ! There you go, out of the mouths of babies comes the way it can be done.





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