hello Blogger readers
Korea and all the rest of you.
I've started The Good Detective on the Kdramas so lets see how it goes
It snowed this morning so I took some photos as I lay in bed, only to flash myself on the window, too much reflection. Totoro our cat is off out over the fences, making snow angels with the foxes, the woods are very close. Ok, not as big as German woods, or Killarney woods, but at least we have some trees. I just hope any early morning neighbours didn't see my quick flashes, a naked elephant man covered in scars. Though some of you may find that appealing
here's where you all are this morning, but you know that already.
Taiwan may be an old old friend, as any friend will do, there's a joke in there just for them. And Denmark may be an old school friend of my daughters' but I'm just guessing. So long as you all read my rubbish, that brightens my day. I know what is read, and the countries reading, but not unless you email saying "hey elephant man, stop flashing, I'm your neighbour at the bottom of your garden, and shave your bottom too" though I doubt any of you will email michaelgcasey@hotmail.com with that message.
I do get rubbish adverts sent to my Wordpress,
but only I see them, as I delete them.
I'm listening to Abba's the Visitors as I talk to you my visitors. But I'll go to bed for a bit more sleep, before I arise like a Vampire.
but M13 is below, so you can look at that while I slumber, though as I think about it, I am like the elephant man in bed. NO. Not what you are smirking, I meant positions. No not that either, SLEEPING POSITIONS. Due to all my scars now with hernia through my bypass scar. It's nearly 6 years now, the Xmas decorations were still up when I had my Operation. Average is 11 years, so if I'm average 5 more years and then you are spared. Though I'd love to spite you all and marry again and have 4 more 1/2 Korean children and form a Kpop band with them, and live till I'm 100. But it's more likely Jeff Bezo delivers a pizza to my house while riding a motorbike, now there's a Facebook challenge.
A Day in Our Life - MorningDec 11, '09 6:18 PM
for everyone
I did the early morning school run yesterday. So I was up at 8 and scraping the toast while badgering my small girls to make them get ready for school. They prefer gossiping and singing songs even first thing in the morning, instead of putting their uniforms and shoes on.
Then I have to find the jam because I can never find things where my wife leaves them in the kitchen. Is the jam in the fridge or is the jam in a cupboard on a high shelf. Finally I find it in the fridge behind a bowl with a fresh fish on, the fish will be dinner later in the day.
Then its time to make the sandwiches for school dinners while the kettle is boiling so that I can make their breakfast drink of hot chocolate. As I make the hot chocolate I leave a trail of chocolate powder all over the breakfast bar. Then once I've wrapped the sandwiches I have to hunt down the sandwich boxes. Once found and filled I have to find the school bags and make sure they have all their "rubbish" in their bags. Then telling them to brush their teeth and have a toilet I dash back upstairs for my own outdoor clothes.
I eat their crust edges and steal a quick coffee before grabbing my coat and scarf and shepherding them out the door, not forgetting to switch the alarm on. Then its a 15minute uphill walk to get to the school, its right next to the woods and golf course. I take my big daughter in first as her school the Juniors starts before the Infants which is on the other side of the main road which is busy and right on the crest of the hill. So we cross thanks to a very brave Mrs Kelly the lollipop lady, then we cross back to the Infants school, and my small daughter goes to her class.
Now I can go home, its all downhill but the road is dangerous and you have to watch out for traffic as you cross all the little roads. Then once home I can have a proper breakfast.
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Cheese Purse Watch a MetaphorDec 9, '09 8:45 AM
for everyone
Cheese Purse Watch A Metaphor ©
By Michael Casey
Cheese, purse, watch all three I’ve found in the past 10 days.
Does this mean the folks where I live are all absent minded kids?
I haven’t gained by any of these finds. The cheese was left in the
Basket by a shopper. My favourite cheese too, only recently I decided to give up this cheese, not because I have lots of mad dreams, just to see if it’ll help me squeeze into my pants my easily. Feta cheese now that really DOES give mad mad dreams, go on try it for yourself.
The purse I found on the edge of a zebra crossing, next to a pub. It was a nice big red purse, it looked full of money and cards. A few moments after I picked it up a lady appeared, she’d noticed she’d dropped it. It’s a good job I’m honest, but it does warn all of us not to ram our pockets with junk so our purses/wallets fall out.
The watch, and I really do love watches was the last item I found, I found it in the school playground when I was bringing home the kids, I do the home run school run. As for my love of watches I even wrote a piece called “The Watch and Me”, I hope eventually to have a posh automatic watch. I wear an automatic watch my Chinese dad sent over, its 15years old and did give perfect time until I changed the watch strap, and now because I wear a looser strap it is now 15seconds fast a day. It’s irritating because it was so perfect before. I suppose I spotted the watch in the playground because watches are on my radar.
I saw lots and lots of nice watches when I worked in a hotel for 3 years, our guests all had them. So I got my daughter to hand in the watch when she was handing in the raffle tickets for the coming Christmas draw.
Three items lost, 3 items found. Cheese, purse and a watch. Now is this really a metaphor? Cheese is something I love but have given up for a few months now. Is this a message to test my resolve, some form
Of test from God? Or a reminder of just how great is God’s bounty?
Eat enough but don’t be a pig?
The purse is money and we all need money even when all we can afford is just to eat, without any extras. Money is a tool to buy what we need, but when we don’t have a lot of cash to spare then we understand what we really need and we buy what we need and not what we desire. When we love money and will do anything for its sake, then it is our master when it controls us, instead of us controlling it. The correct quote is “the love of money is the route of all evil”.
I did think of becoming a male model but I decided I did not love money that much.
The watch can be a luxury item, it screams I’m rich, I have taste, I’m fashionable, I am so sexy. But it does have a function, it gets us all there on time. We are all in the same place at the same time, life, order and rules make us a timely workforce. The monks used to have a candle burning, this was the Omega of the day. Now we have atomic clocks and radio controlled watches, time is money so to speak. The watch also tells us that are time here on earth is limited, so we should use it well. Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat, spare a though for your neighbours and talk to them, it may be the only time of year you do it. Time is after all the greatest gift of all.
Merry Christmas Everybody from Birmingham England.
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Pub to Bus Wisdom?Dec 6, '09 6:12 PM
for everyone
I went to see a friend and his crew today, a few beers followed by a noodle bar, a few jokes too. Time really does fly when you are enjoying yourself. 40 years worth of time to be exact, I've know BigD since grammar school, 40 years ago. In fact my mother knew his grandmother for years before we ever met. He remembers our exam scores from 40years ago. He credits me with much more than I really am. Though I do use him for references, why because he went to University, in fact he is Dr BigD PhD, I had him sign his name at my wedding too, just so my kids in the future would be impressed by it all. Mind you once I married into a Chinese family and met Chinese folks a PhD was quiet common. If there are 1350,000,000 people you had better have a great CV or you'd get nowhere. Also at my wedding was William and Cindy.Cindy was a beach babe/lifeguard from Taiwan and her husband William was Dr William and his PhD was in Metalurgy, and my dad was a Blacksmith, so William was both impressed and honoured to meet my dad. On the bus BigD, which is his nickname because he is so small and BigD was a brand of peanuts 40years ago. On the bus BigD was telling me how he had to take a few exams every year so that he stayed certified as a Path Lab person, obviously I'm totally ignorant of all things medical. On my wedding day JJ and BigD were doing chemical equations on a napkin in McDonalds, jj the wife has a chemistry degree so they have something in common. BigD once had chicken's feet cooked for him by jj at our house, he thinks I'm a girl for not trying them. The bus carried on so I asked had he made his Will yet, what with swine flu around, besides he could always leave me his stamp collection. Then I'd buy a bigger house. Sadly he said he wanted to be burnt with all his worldly goods with him , a bit like a Viking I suppose. I told him JJ wanted to be cremated too, but I told her I'd just bury her in the back yard. Yes we did get a few strange looks from people on the bus, but we had alcohol and chinese in us so we didn't care. He told me he'd send a postcard from Seattle, he's been going there for 8 years, so Christmas time is his vacation time. Then he stumbled off the bus, my stop is 3 stops more down the road. So I got off and did my usual sprint down the Bearwood rd. I noticed a half price bed in one shop, IF I can squeeze it into my dog leg stairs then I may get a new bed forChristmas. Then getting home I managed to fix the computer, 1st law of electrics, unplug and rest and then try again. So it worked. I also entered a win a watch competition on a watch website. So if I win then I'll have a nice new watch, a 250dollar automatic one, it will be my Christmas present. At the moment I wear one donated by my Chinese dad the year before he was tragically killed in Shanghai. But I did meet him when I went to Shanghai in 2000, and he agree with me, he was the only one who agree with me that sending jj back to tell all my bad points WAS the right thing to do. And the rest is history or you can have a look at the photos section. That's about it really, oh by the way tomorrow our youngest is a sheep in the Nativity Play so I'm looking forward to that. And then 14-18 Feb is Chinese New Year. So Goodnight Wherever You Are, HIC
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The First Christmas CardDec 2, '09 7:19 PM
for everyone
My daughter brought her first Christmas card home from school today, so in time honoured tradition I picked her up and we placed it on top of the kitchen cupboards. In fact she had 5 cards, so we bunched them all together so that when the avalanche of cards arrives we willhave room for them all. Back in the days when me and my sister lived at home there were stings going backward and forward across the living room and the tally was 200 or even 250, my sister was/is very popular so her cards were the bulk of those that the Casey family got.
So now 25years and more further on I hold up my daughters and we display the cards. Soon the kitchen space will be full so then I perch the cards on the paintings that we have on the walls, then we fill the space on top of the telly with more cards. Christmas is on its way. My brother came with cards and presents for the girls. I hid the presents and they will have to wait 3 more weeks before they get them. They love their uncle because he always brings something, he does look a bit like santa too what with his huge white beard. Our mother no doubt blesses all her children from Heaven, we continue the love without her.
My youngest was at a Birthday party tonight so I took her big sister with me when I went to fetch her home. We went up the shopping street and could see the Christmas lights as they were switched on tonight. We also noticed how the posher streets than ours were so dark, at least our street lights were brighter. We passed by one of my dream houses, but again in the gloom I did not like it so much. Bringing the small one home we got her to close her eyes and walk, she didn't cheat either then on the count of three she opened her eyes to see all the pretty colours that make up the shopping street Christmas decorations. she was impressed.
Walking home we observed all the Christmas trees and lights that people had in their own homes, nice and pretty. Though it does remind me of County Kerry when everybody has a light in the window, so you can look from Cromane over to Inch on the Dingle Peninsula and see all the lights in the windows. I think its to guide the 3 kings, but ask your own local priest or Fr. Google may know. Though it was in 73 when I remember it the most. We were all much younger then. Christmas is a time of Love and Family, a time of watching The Bishop's Wife with Cary Grant. Of watching a Christmas Carol with a tear in our eye, eating too much and spilling ice cream over the new jumper your aunty had just given you. So you will have to wash it first before you give it away to the Salvation Army. But most of all it is a time of Hope.
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How to bribe the kids while the wife is at the dentistDec 1, '09 6:06 PM
for everyone
Well, just how do you bribe the kids while the wife is at the dentist? The answer is Dr Who, a science fiction action show for all the family. Goggle will reveal all. My kids knew there were 2 Dr Who episodes on tonight on 2 different stations. They reminded their best friend and her nana on the way home,it was so important not to miss one.
Once home we had 2 hours before Dr Who started.So books out and must be read before any tv. Apart from me and Tv news, I watch BBC, Sky, Fox News. My girls hammered the books and I prepared their meal. Mini instant 3 minute pizza, followed by milk and bananas and oranges.
Normally its Chinese food made by my wife, rice with everything,so what I dish up is a change for them. Its three saucepans on the go and my wife stiring just like the witches in Macbeth, ubble, bubble, boiland eye of newt and tail of bat. That's how I tease her, you have to, its what she'd grown use to after 10years or so.
The kids ate and I watched the news. Then the reading all done it was wash then Dr Who, I got them to get all cleaned up so they could watch Dr Who back to back. Dr Who then bed, everything all done by 8pm. Well so much for the plan. The 1st episode I did not want to watch again so I browsed the Internet, just in case Tiger Woods had stopped by.
The 2nd episode of Dr Who was set in ancient Pompeii, on Volcano Day. I have actually been there, back in 1995 its a great sight to see. If you ever get the chance then do go, but no doubt Google can reveal lots for you. So I enjoyed Dr Who with the kids, I should say that Dr Who started 40 years ago when I was a kid, it was reinvented recently and has won awards like the British equivalent on a Tony award. Yes that good. Dr Who does not die he just grows a new body and carries on, he's over 900 years old. I'd love to see his 401 plan. So Dr Who ended and the kids went to bed. Result.
My wife arrived late, I knew she'd gone off for an adventure. Only to CostCo for margarine, with the coins she'd stolen from my wallet all in the name of car park machines. I had wanted to go with her tomorrow because you can get a great hot dog and a soda and a soda refill for 1,47 which is 2.25 in dollars I think. So I had missed my chance for a hot dog. She did have some news though. Her wisdom teeth would be taken out in January, and they wanted to pay her 150pounds or 220dollars IF she let them try a new anaesthetic. So they would be the witches and she would be in the pot so to speak. I told her she should have said NO.She had said No already. Then she told me the date. The date for her wisdom teeth to come out will be my dad's 8th anniversary of his death.
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Tv news has changed so much over the yearsNov 24, '09 1:02 PM
for everyone
TV news has changed so much over the years. In the old days in England there was only the BBC. TV was only in black and white, colour tv was only dreamed of. The BBC had a monopoly, that’s changed now. The commercial Tv stations all have their own news service. News is squeezed in between Spiderman and his webs. Weather forcastes have become as important as news, there are celebrity weathermen. There is also 24hour news from the BBC and 24hour news from Sky News. Sky tends to be more Populist, more working class if you like. The Sky channel has bought up all the sports, so the working man so to speak IS a Sky viewer and enjoys Skys sports. The BBC tries to maintain a more conservation tone, though the BBC has become more Populist as the years have gone by. For news junkies they can flick between BBC and Sky to see the breath of coverage, Fox news is also available in England so if there is an international story a 3 way picture can be obtained. Though watching Fox from England means you have to be quick as they dart about so much, one second there is a report on global warming the next second Fox is making hotdogs in the car park outside the studio. Should even wider breath of coverage be required there are English language versions of Pakistani, Indian,Iranian, French, German, Chinese news services. Though some may ask who do you trust the most, not forgetting CNN which is the world travellers standby.
By watching a news service a world view from that particular country can be obtained, people can shout at the tv and see just how unfair or unjust any certain situation is. There is a format for each news bulletin, with a happy ending at the end of the news bulletin. A story about a cat stuck up a tree or a happy ending about a brother and sister separated in childhood only to discover they have been living around the corner for 40 years. Commercial Tv tends to spend more time on the feel good stories, some may say that the total coverage has been dumbed dowm and that less real news is on tv.
Some say the BBC is best because it hasn’t dumbed down so far so fast. Otherwise away from TV news Tv as a whole has dumbed down, its reality shows galore and tv game shows along with shows where the whole world can claim their 15 minutes of Fame. If Andy Wahol knew just how right he was then he would be spinning in his in his grave.
One word of hope Radio4!
p.s. I was told I look like the Mafia in a suit, no wonder I cannot get hired.
Tags: radio 4 is best
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Telephone InterviewsNov 23, '09 2:22 PM
for everyone
Telephone interviews are a new feature of the modern world. With so many people chasing those jobs, it’s the fastest way to sort the wheat from the chaff. There are good and bad points to it. The interviewer can be sat on the bed in a 4star hotel with a nice bottle of wine gently breathing beside him as he asks questions over the phone. As for the interviewee he can be in his dressing gown with 5 days worth of stubble on his face, his hair unwashed and uncombed, a hole in his slippers. Then politely they talk about the skill set the interviewee can bring to the task, how much experience he has doing this and doing that. The interviewer can ask the interviewee to hold the line as there is another call coming in, and he does apologise. So the interviewee is left on hold while the interviewer finishes his glass of wine and pours himself another glass. The interviewee pastes his hair down with spit even though he cannot be seen, but while on hold he will tidy himself up a bit. The interviewer watches the sports headlines on Sky TV before having another sip from his glass before resuming the interview. Questions about experience and future career paths are posed and answered. The interviewee feels confident and smiles at himself in the mirror. The interviewer loosens his belt and lets his stomach out. The interview is concluded.
Mr Unkempt gets through to the next round. This time he has to SSS which means exactly what it says, SSS. He spends ages in the bathroom , more than his sisters did when he used to live at home. He wears his best shiny black shoes, only for the laces to snap, so then he has to hunt around to find a lace that matches his shoes. Only he cannot, so he steals a navy one from a different pair of shoes. He looks in the mirror to see if its noticeable, and it is, so he loosens his belt, so his trousers hang lower so that they hide his shoes, only problem is that with his fat belly his trousers might fall off completely. That would certainly make an impression at the interview. If he was applying for a farce actor’s position then it would be great, Brian Rix would be impressed. The interviewer is a power dresser, his 1000pound suit compared to the 49.99 one worn by the interviewee. And yes the laces are noticed, immediately.
Positive body language v negative body language, neutral body language. Arms folded, arms open, open legs with hands on top of knees. Licking of lips, eyes skyward, eyes averted, eyes straight and looking into the soul.
The usual interview so to speak. Then the waiting for a letter in the post, or an email for fail.
Happy Interviews everybody.
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Die Hard 4.0 or how to use talentsNov 20, '09 7:03 PM
for everyone
WE just finished watching Die Hard 4.0 on the tv. We all really enjoyed it. The story reveolved around people taking over all of the computer networks in the USA. There was loads of action but what made me think was how would you deal with hackers?
In England we have a man with a form of autism who just after 911 he broke into USA computers, because he was looking for news of ETs, it was his hobby. He has been dragged through English courts and finally he will be sent to USA where he could go to jail for a long time.
So the question is why weren't the USA computers hack proof. Was it because they weren't tested? Was it arrogance? Me, if I were the USA authorities, I'd give the guy a job and let him explain just how he did it. Or is it empty pride? It would be far cheaper than sticking him in jail. I'm sure if those of you who are in the USA are reading this and you stop to think you agree with me. War Games is a film from 10 to 20 years ago when teenage hackers get into NORAD. A similar them.
When I eventually get around to writing Tears For A Butcher my follow up comedy novel, then in that book there will be a handicapped person who is a whiz on IT. There body may be mal formed but their brain is not. In my story its to show that we shouldn't put people in a dustbin because we are ignorant about them. And arrogant towards them. In my story those IT whizes do get offered a great job working for the USA, why because they did what was in Die Hard 4.0, by the way I thought up my plot line before I saw the film. Also in the follow up book two twin sisters find their first boyfriends, and who do these Venuses pick. Do they chose football heros with bulging muscles, but maybe no brains. NO these two Venuses chose a guy with a limp and the other pick has a severe stutter.
Why do I chose to make my characters in my book behave in such a way? I want people who see the true worth of people. Its not the smile, all flashing perfect teeth. A better person may have bad teeth and bad breath. A real hero is not all "Hollywood", its the guy in the garage who fixes your car. Its the fat middle age lady who is the crossings lady when you take your kids to and from school. Its you when you deliberately start a conversation with the lonely old lady on the bus. Your very words are warmth to her soul. She'll smile and get off the bus and wave to you. She'll talk about you to her cat when she gets home. You have been the one ray of sunshine in her day.
These are ordinary people who make up our world. Some will have talents which God has sprinkled randomly, just to remind us that all are loved by him. Even me, even you.
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Google to Google or Internet MazeNov 16, '09 2:45 PM
for everyone
Google to Google or Internet Maze ©
By
Michael Casey
Google to Google, you know what I mean? Well you start in one place and end up somewhere totally different. 25 years ago I went for a walk in Normandy and ended
Up miles and miles away, about 25 miles away. Luckily I found an old cottage that happened to be a restaurant, so I stopped and had a very good meal and 3 coffee pots of coffee. It was a bit like the Witches Cottage in Hanzel and Grettel or some other fairy tale. Finally I emerged and decided to head back the way I’d came as it was getting dark. A car stopped and asked me the pedestrian for directions. So I gave him the exact directions. He said au revoir and he was gone. Only I didn’t have the sense to ask for a lift, he was going back to where I was going back. So I continued walking for 2 or 3 more hours along those winding roads that the GIs had stormed back in 44.
That’s an example of just wandering without any destination, an example of stupidity too, but I have a Phd in Stupidy. With Google the whole world gets to follow my example. Today I clicked on this and then clicked on that, which led me there and then I was somewhere else entirely. It can be very educational, or it can make you want to pull your hair out. It is like looking for a needle in a haystack, or maybe you just find a haystack that is made up entirely of needles. So you have to refine your search. Today’s semi-random search lead to www.interead.co.uk which is a company that make ereaders and sells ebooks by the million. So of course I’ve emailed them in the vain hope that they could sell my two books as ebooks.
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker and my Essays and Plays. Google as we all know IS the best search engine. Bing and Yahoo trail behind in 100th place in my opinion. Test it for your selves and see what you get.
An easy way to start is by putting your city, your name, your hobby in and then see what pops up. Then you click on that and go there and then there leads you somewhere else. Many years ago there was a black and white TV series on tv here in England, I think it was called Pinpoint, I saw the repeats when I was a child so its very old now. Anyways the point of the show was to follow the connections starting with the pin point and travelling around till you got back to where you started. If anybody wants a host for the show if some TV producer is reading this then I’m free and cheap. James Burke the great tv presenter did a show in the 80s I think about technology and all the connections, it was a great show and very well presenter. With Google you have the chance to do the same thing. Place names tell us all about the past from a place, if it was a steel town in the past, or if it was a scene of a battle. Just click and go around the world in 80 clicks, there’s another idea there for you. Google is clicking us all together, we can stagger from one site to another, you can plan a pub crawl just by investigating your local pubs on Google. For those who pray, then you can plan your prayer holiday, whatever style of prayer you follow.
Google is a Maze of information but by clicking your way you can find your way home, and if home is where your heart is then cuddle up to www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com and with a warm drink or wife in your hand you can see out any winter’s storm.
Happy Reading.
Michael Casey
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Shakespeare in Love and various other thoughtsNov 14, '09 1:49 PM
for everyone
We just watched Shakespeare in Love the 1998 film. It was very good and I enjoyed the music too. The passion for words and the wheeler dealing was funny too. I think Dame Judy Dench got an Oscar for it too, forgive me if I'm wrong. The Passions and Pain was all revealed too, I'd forgotten how good the film was. A long time ago I did a course on Shakespeare, you have to try and understand the style of the language too, the metaphors and old English language. All in all a very good film, with even a young Ben Afleck in it. So grab and pizza and get a copy from your local video store.
What Shakespeare also reminded me was how we all need to communicate to each other. If Joe knows cars then we speak in car metaphors. It not patronising its socialising, when I was working at the hotel 5 years ago if we had Scots visitors then the word "wee" would slip into my language it was the natural thing to do. We even had Top Cops conferences so I'd share a joke with a Chief Constable or two as I walked around the hotel on a security patrol. The joke was we had a sniper on the roof to keep petty car thieves away. We did have the most secure car park on the NEC site. The NEC is the biggest exhibition site in Europe, and bigger than the one in New York, so I've been told.
If talking to chefs you always listen with respect not just because the were masters in their field but because chefs have knives, lots of knives so its always best to have respect. The housekeeping crew knew everything about cleaning rooms and corridors, so I'd share a word while I did my 30 mins patrols that took me everywhere. Some days I might even be helping them when the hotel was ultra busy. So I'd stay out of Vicky's way by cleaning the bathrooms while she cleaned the bedrooms. Its very hard work, but there is a sense forfillment when a corridor has been done. 15 rooms a day I think it was, though it could have been 20. I'd take off my front of house jacket and roll up my sleeve and put the rubber gloves on while I was on bathroom duty. My dec phone might ring then I'd be summons downstairs to help out at front of house. Its all like a mad and busy ballet, though I've never worn a tutu, though I have been positively vetted by a Chinese ballet dancer when I first met my wife, but that's another story.
Life is all about stories, if my story is appealing to another person then we may become friends, to others it may be boring and go on forever, so then I'm a bore. Its how our lives connect and how social jigsaws fit together that makes us all work as friends and as work mates. Sadly there are people who put themselves above us, it can be a boss or a priest in church or the snob selling newspapers in the street. Life is about blowing bubbles in the air that blow this way and that way, they may stick together or blow randomly all over the shop. But bubbles are a glorious thing they make us like children, happy and innocent and willing to share our sweets. I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air is the song. But the most important thing is the range of colours, the joy, the happiness that bubbles bring, just like Shakespeare's sonnets.
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If I were a Fashion Writer, what would I writeNov 10, '09 3:24 PM
for everyone
To begin with let me explain. I was trawling through the jobs sites when I came across an ad looking for all kinds of everything for a Fashion Mag, non paid I might add. So it set me thinking. I do have a Shanghai wife who sets heads turning, and I have to comment on all the fashion she wears.So after more than 10 years I have learnt a little about Fashion.
I would no doubt be called Grandpa whenever I attended a Fashion Event, I have the same white hair that the famous fashion designer has, I don't wear gloves with the fingers cut off though. Though I do have thinsulate gloves in black and in red. Just as he has two colours. My waiste line is bigger, I'm as big as 2 models, though you would never see me in purple lipstick and covered in rouge. Fishnet tights though, that's another matter, Men in tights and Pantomime is an English tradition. Google Pantomime if you have not heard of Panto. Men dress up as women and women dress up as men, perhaps as Robin Hood. Its fun for all the family. But I was talking about fish net tights before I was side tracked. Fashion makes a very big statement. Some of the high end fashion is not really fashion. It really is a work of Art. I saw a documentary once on TV and after watching the man with the funny gloves and the white hair go about his work I realised it really was Art and not just Fashion. Now what would I do at a fashion show? I'd drink the free champagne for starters, pity they don't serve hot dogs too, then I'd be in heaven. Some of the designers destroy what they are trying to achieve by too much hideous make up. The fashion really would be better served by well dressed dummies. Smearing a beautiful models with soot just destroys the vision. The dead eyes that you see when models walk the cat walk is terrible. Yes Fashion is King, but if the models looked happy and you could almost believe that they all fought to get into the dress they were wearing. Then you'd say, she looks so happy wearing that you can see the joy in her eyes. Then Fashion would be better served.
There are other designs which are truly great but they are ruined because the colour palet is so bad. Its like when you see 2009 Punk Rockers, I remember the original ones 30 years ago so today's versions are just so passe. You can go into a shop and as you look around you see 40 shades or grey or 20 shades of black. Its not even worth trying the clothes on. Ditto when you can see the clothes are for 40 or 50 somethings. Colour is Great, so USE IT, life is in Colour so lets see it in the designs.
Women are beautiful and the more intelligent 1/2 of our species, their beauty should be celebrated and enhanced by fashion. Colour and Cut matched to sympathic makeup will make women glow, and allow women to wrap men around their little finger even more. Good fashion does this and I know that when I look at my wife.
Pax Vobiscum
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BBC asks top writer to take course on dramaNov 1, '09 9:21 AM
for everyone
BBC asks top writer to take course on drama
Sunday, November 1, 2009, 02:00 PM GMT [General]
BBC asks top writer to take course on drama. I just read that in today's Telegraph. I'm trying to get my foot in the door in the writing game. I once posted my Internet Story comic essay on a BBC site, where it was removed, why, because
"And help find a publisher for my book , and then you've guessed it , just send me 10 dollars !" Is the tag line for the joke at the end of the essay. But to the BBC I was soliciting money, so they removed it. If I had a Bafta and had the BBC telling me how to write , I'd slam it down on the desk of the idiot who asked me to do a test and ask them to write a thesis on "How to win a Bafta". Total BBC Idiots,
Sorry Moses you cann't part the Red Sea without Health and Safety assessment 1st. And as for that stick in your hand we will notify the Police, weapons are not allowed. As for you Gandalf, drop it now or we'll try this new mace on you, we've just imported it from USA.
Sorry no Loaves and Fishes or Water into wine either, you don't have A3 consent.
Sorry Gordon and David, those speeches have to pass the censor, and don't forget the 3pm watershed, we don't want kids home from school getting all confused, which one is the liar, is it always the one in Government or is it just the Opposition.
So the BBC has to bore everybody with fair and balance just like Fox news. Sadly I am not surprised, perhaps the stuff I write is never PC, so it will never be published or produced. www.michaelgcasey.multiply.com
is where to find it, so judge for yourselves. My latest idea is to turn my non PC play Shoplife into a Health and Safety piece by using reverse logic
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If I were a Rich Man, though I'd settle for being able to Sing Like TopolOct 30, '09 6:44 PM
for everyone
I wanted to write a piece to celebrate Halloween, Christopher Lee the great Dracula actor got Knighted today, was the spurr. However this time of year brings back a few memories to me. 1977 was a turning point in my Life. 1986 another turning point and 1999 a 3rd turning point.Why Autumn shoud be such a turning point I'll never know.The Love my father had for all of us stands out amongst these anniversaries. November was his Birthday as well, his last Birthday was his 80th, we had a gathering at my sister's house, he held his granddaughter in his arms, he'd beaten Death and had 5.5 years of extra time.
When I bought my house his advice was "Michael, buy that house" So I did. The dog had actually found the house, he had cocked his leg and christened the gate post, and it was only then that I saw the for sale sign.
Now I dream of a bigger house for my girls, so that they can have a room to do art in, even if it is the garage. My youngest even has dreams about us living in a big white house, the one on the school run, and that we have a dog and a cat.I'd just love to have a bigger house closer to the park and the woods. That's been a dream of mine for 30 years at least, so I suppose I have brain washed my girls. Though I do miss the days when at the family home we did have a cat and a dog. One of the dogs even went to the seaside with us, even attending Mass, and delighting a blind boy by licking him all over when he bumbed into him on the beach.
I do sing If I were a Rich Man, from time to time, and then break down in pretend tears, saying why do I have girls, 3 girls, if you include the wife. They laugh as I do all the actions and become a Birmingham version of Topol, though the Jazz improvisations are all mine. Though I might add that my local priest does look like Topol and sing as well too, Life does immitate Art after all. When finally it is time for bed and I get my girls to say their prayers, they add " and please Jesus can we have a big white house and a cat and a dog called SubWay"
Direct and to the point, but Padre Pio used to say always ask for the big grace, so if you all excuse me for tonight, I just have to say my prayers before I go to bed, I was thinking about asking for a cat, and a dog called Subway just for the kids and maybe a big white house for us to share with the animals. It is Autumn after all and big things always happen in Autum or should I say the Fall.
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Under My BedOct 25, '09 8:10 PM
for everyone
What's under your bed? We used to have an airline pilot stay at the hotel who would open his room door and leave his flight bag down proping the door open while he then rolled an orange under the bed. He said he travelled all over the world and this was his safety routine. If you go to a bad hotel you may find an uneaten Kentucky Fried Chicken still in its box, under your bed. Normally its an odd shoe or sock, if the housekeeping crew are trained well you will never ever find any of these things. Having cleaned a few rooms myself when I was at a 4star deluxe hotel for 3 years, I can say it is hard work and you have to be fast and furious. But so long as the hotel gets 6 quid or 10 dollars for the room then they are in profit.
But all of this is an aside, what's under your bed? We decorated a few years ago and I had hundreds and hundreds of photos in photo albums. We took down a couple of shelves while we decorated, but then we had a problem, one of them broke. The one which had all my photo albums on. I hadn't really looked at all these photos in years, so the bin beckoned. However I decided I'd keep them. So where to put them. Under the bed was the solution, we had an old suitcase so I put all my photos away. It must have weighted 25 kilos, or 55 pounds or 4stones in English terminology, which is as much as my big daughter weights, talking of weight my wife only weights 6 stones, light enought to be a jockey. Now there's an idea, my uncle Patrick used to keep a donkey just to cut the grass around the house in County Kerry. My wife could have become a jockey, if only my uncle and the donkey were still around. Life is all about timing after all.
So grunting and groaning I carried the old suitcase upstairs and slid it under my bed. There it remained for years. Two children later and today our smallest one wanted to look at all the photo albums, the ones we keep in the pantry. Though technology has moved on now and we have maybe 1000 photos on the computer and in cyperspace on our family site. But our smallest likes to see herself when she was even smaller. So I decided to drag out the suitcase and show both our girls photos of me from 25years ago and so. We had snaps from when my sister did her year abroad, from when my brother lived in Paris. There were lots of photos, 10 small albums of County Kerry, donkey included. All my cousins, my dad's brother had 10 children after all, my mum had 5 surviving brothers and sisters. There were photos of the beach at Cromane , my cousin's son measured the distance from the corner of the house to the sea, just over 7 metres he said, or about 23feet in old money. I remembered the Love my aunty showed to all of us, she was always the driver, 1000miles in 2 weeks seeing all the clan, she is truely blessed. From the base in Killarney to all points North/South/East/West you could put on a stone,or 14pounds in 2 weeks, 3 relatives a day, 3 meals a day. All my cousins were always so generous and welcoming, there was always so much gossip and stories to be heard.
All this lived in suspended animation in a suitcase under my bed. They all awoke like a Princess in a Fairytale story when I dragged out the old suitcase today. My girls said I looked so cool with my sunglasses and my moustache. I told them I was younger than mummy is when the photo was taken. Why did everybody have a moustache in them days?
I also found my copy of The Outline Of History By H.G.Wells , signed by Mr Lester the headteacher from my Primary school. It was a leaving present, believe it or not I was Head Boy at Primary school, it was a bit like being a jailer really, as I had the keys to the building and I locked up at dinner time. I also found a certificate from 1969 because I wrote a story for a competition, Junior Free Handwriting Story something. This impressed my big daughter.
I found my mothers prayerbook with lots of religious pictures inserted into the pages. Mrs Murphy in my novel, The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker is based on my mum, but not just her but my Aunty in Killarney and the 2 other sisters. So my fictional Mrs Murphy is to the power of 4. While I'm thinking of it, I deliberately did not write about my dad in my book, however after I finished it I realised that Big Sid the butcher he was my dad. Not because of any similarities whatsoever, but, the Love Sid has is the same Love that my dad had for all of us. Love is how you judge people, anything else is s*&%.
I also found a nice little book about Saint Martin de Porres, I'll try and get my daughter to read it, it must be 30 years old. All in all a lot of memories came flooding outjust because I looked under my bed. The suitcase I threw away, the history book is back on the remaining bookshelf just beside me. I found a large strong plastic sack and I put my photos back in the bag. The only thing I had to decide was where to put it. You know what I thing I'll put it back under my bed. Memories to sleep on
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Wrapping PaperOct 24, '09 11:07 AM
for everyone
I was in Aldi and I spotted Winnie the Pooh wrapping paper, my smallest girl just loves all things Winnie the Pooh, so I got the paper. I wasn't sure whether to wrap her Birthday present in it or just let her have the paper. In the end I gave her the paper to play with. She was delighted, immediately she wanted to use the wrapping paper to wallpaper the walls with. As I've said before she once said she liked Winnie the Pooh because his belly reminded her of my belly. Such is a child's love, unflattering but love.
It did get me thinking though, why do we need wrapping paper? Packaging is part and parcel of ordinary life. Easter eggs are the thing with the most packaging, so much packaging and then so little chocolate. My mother gave up on Easter Eggs because of the cost, there were so many of us Caseys after all. So we had bars of Cadburys chocolate instead, the Cadburys factory is just a couple of miles from where I'm sitting. Easter came and we devoured the Cadburys bars, cheaper than the Easter Eggs but so very tasty.
People have wrapping paper or layers all around them,we can all remember what Donkey said to Shrek, so many layers like an onion. At the moment I'm dressing up in the wrapping paper called a "suit", so that I can get a new job. So people can see me at my best, hide my tummy and hope they forgive my premature white head of hair, as for my bushy eyebrows God alone knows what they may think. You can judge for yourselves by clicking on the photos on this site. How much do you reveal, how much do you hide as you have an unnatural experience that is called an interview. Perhaps interviews should take place in a coffee shop, as you may know LLoyds of London started in a London coffee shop 100s of years ago. Even better interviews could be held in a bar. You have two pints to prove your worth, so don't spill the peanuts over the interviewer's haut couture dress. Perhaps then at the 2nd interview you have to sing karoki with the 2 interviewers, and IF you can sing My Way word perfect then you get the job. It sure would be more fun.
More wrapping paper is used when we are embarrassed or too shy to explain things to our doctor, we waste 5 mins talking about the weather and the Fall leaves before we finally blurt out that its a boil on the bum ort something below the waistline. And why is it that on these occasions the doctor on call is one of the opposite sex, why cann't it be your usual doctor.
Wrapping paper is used an awful lot in Faith, we lie to ourselfs and our God/Gods by thinking we don't have to do this or we don't have to do that. Faith can become a Buffet, we lie to ourselves and God, this bit does not matter, so we'll show God only so much of ourselves. A bit like cheating in an exam. I'm sure God's smiling as he watches us, perhaps the Saints place bets on who will finally come clean, clean being the opperative word. The Saints queue up ready to interven, which 999 or 911 call will come though so that a Saint can be dispatched. I know in1996 when my mum had died suddenly and then 8 bare weeks later my dad was given 1 week to live, we actually picked the hymns for his funeral he was so bad. Then all the layers, all the wrapping paper was off, Padre Pio came to the rescue. So that I met my wife in the old peoples' home, 3 years after my dad came back from the dead. Dad lived long enough to hold his granddaugher in his arms, 5.5 years after that massive heart attack.
The ultimate wrapping paper is love, its hard to say you love somebody when your heart has been broken so many times before. Its hard to take a chance when somebody might laugh in your face. Slowly you reveal one thing, then another, then another, yes I can see the idea of a Monty Python joke as I write this. I do write comedy after all. But when 2 strangers become friends, when 2 become one, then all the wrapping paper is off. She may not mind your hairy back or fat stomach, he may not mind her big feet or whatever she feared. It can turn out that what one thinks is ugly your Love may find attractive. Love is Blind after all, Love conquers All, Love is all you need. Together naked, the wrapping paper is discarded.
Attachment: Padre Pio and Me.doc
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The White DoorOct 22, '09 2:45 PM
for everyone
The White Door, or the dirty white door to be exact. I had a dream last night and I saw a door, a dirty white door. There were two nails driven into it in the top left hand corner of it. That's all I remembered, we do have 2 white doors in our house but neither are like that.
So what was I dreaming about? Years ago I had a dream dictionary, I would have eagerly read that to find out. So instead I'll have to use the Internet, google will have an answer no doubt.
I've said for years that I'd only get a real publisher IF somebody opened the door for me. A negative friend always says you have to make your own opportunities. I take the view that its not ability but knowing somebody, the old saying, its not what you know but who you know.
I knocked on loads of doors via emails, but still after 20 years no publisher for my novel. A friend said its not just a door but maybe a window I'd may have to sneak my talent through a window before I finally got my chance, before my boat comes in.
My smallest daughter said she had a dream last night too, she dreamt we moved house to the big white house we walk past daily on the school run, and that we had a cat and a dog. The dog will be called Subway. She was all excited as she told me. Children just love animals, but I've said no animals till we get a bigger house. Somebody somewhere has to find me and like me, and then publish me before our dreams can come true. Or my 32 year old lottery ticket could finally come up trumps, thought I doubt it.
You never know whats around a corner my old boss once told me a long time ago, she was right, I met the wife in a most unbelieveable way. Its all in Padre Pio and Me and my Literary Criticism essays. Doors can be opened and closed, closed in your face. For 3 years I stood by a door when I worked at a 4star deluxe hotel, the whole world passed through as I was a 30 second living commercial for the hotel. Best 3 years of my life in a way.
Doors in the mind are the best doors to open, because they free you to experience more, I'm not talking about taking pills or whatever, just in case any Old Hippies are out there and reading this. Just open your heart and you will open a door to experience more, to remove barriers that leave you in a box, full of your own prejudices. Think of it as food, we always have this and we always have that. Because thats the way we have always done things. Then we meet somebody different and our food world changes, our doors are open. Imagine me meeting a Shanghai girl 10 years ago , I told her fish and chips was haute cuisine. Now you need a degree in oriental languages to know what's what in our fridge. The kids love going to Subway as its a change from daily Chinese food. Thats why if ever we move house the dog will be called Subway.
I'll leave it at that now, though I can say that Fear opened one door for me. I was so affraid of my Primary school teacher when I was 8 that I started to read books, and it changed my life. Getting an old Bush radio from one of our lodgers also opened another door for me, expanding your mind is a great adventure. If you are lucky it leads to a corridor full of doors and opportunities. I suppose writing these blogs as well as the essays and plays and the comic novel is a door too, you the reader are seeing into my mind, I just hope you like the view.
Attachment: Padre Pio and Me.doc
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Where do the tears go when they are shedOct 18, '09 4:48 PM
for everyone
Where do the tears go when they are shed ©
By
Michael Casey
Where do the tears go when they are shed
While I lie here crying on my bed
Do the tears drip drip away and seep though
The floorboards and head for the sea.
Do my tears join an ocean that rises and falls
Do the tears yell and scream but only sea farers
Hear them, do whales moan as they crash through them
Only whales know of my distress as my tears groan
In deep deep oceans in the unknown dark deep seas.
Do my tears head north to the North Pole and Santa
Does Santa Ho Ho Ho so much because he is trying to drown out
The cries and sobs and tears held back for so many years.
Do tears form ice shelves and become icebergs, silent and majestic
Like giant cathedrals of ice. Is this the way to silent the voice of tears.
Frozen in Time for 100s of years, the fears of today and yesterday are merged
As one, gagged for eternity in an ice cathedral.
Will everything be forgot, deep freezed, quick frozen like garden peas.
Do my tears evaporate and head for the sky, joining the clouds as they pass by.
Are my tears blown this way and that, are they taken far away over the ocean.
As planes pass through the clouds that are my tears, can the passengers hear
Can the passengers hear my tears, all my hopes and fears, or are my tears
Drowned out by the in flight movie, 007 killing my prayers to heaven.
Do my tears wash away my pain, my guilt, are they like mothers’ milk?
For tears touch us all, they are like a morning mist that shrouds us.
For tears are the dark dark night of the soul, a cold coat that covers us.
In the morning we remember we fell asleep crying, but what of now?
Now we’ve looked at our dead mum’s photo and think of what she would have said.
We smile as we remember, her fight, her love, her spirit, her smile.
But never tears, she shed no tears for us, she shed no tears for us.
Tears will come, tears will come again, but they are just water, we are stronger
Than mere water, we have a boat and that boat is Love.
**** I had this poem in my head so tonight I tried to a nail it down
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A Famous Life, an Expired Life, Words from Beyond The GraveOct 18, '09 7:23 AM
for everyone
I did my best, I tried to live a holy life, thinking of the next life and not tied to this. But now I'm gone you turn me into an icon, I get 15minutes of fame, after I'm dead, but those 15minutes last forever. I wanted a humble grave, a quiet send off, only a brass band turned up. People spoke kind words about me, some even meaning them, but for what? For vanity, for care, for compassion to those I left behind, or to make themselves important by association. I'm just a signpost pointing the way, go higher, don't stop at me, the signpost, go higher. Go to heaven itself, not this ornate graveyard, with people selling tee shirts with my name on. Go higher.
I'm just a mother so remember me well, don't fight with one another, love one another and help each other, if you want to remember me then remember those words of mine. And I'm not angry with you any more, for that joke about Thomas being the ideal name for an aethist. Breath the fresh air, sit on the grass in our small garden and remember how as kids we all cut that grass by using small pairs of sissors because we couldn't afford a lawn mower. Life goes on without me, I never saw those pretty girls of yours, but God lets us see things sometimes, and yes you are right I would have spoilt them if only I had lived to see them. But my passing led to dad going into the old folks home, and it was there where you met you wife, at least he held the 1st girl in his eyes before he was called into Paradise. And do you know they have a beautiful garden there, and for fun we are allowed to cut the grass with sissors, one blade at a time. So enjoy your life and enjoy your family. Those prayers you said for years brought tears to Heaven, and then by chance at a letter box she met a man who ran the home, and that’s why she was there waiting for you, waiting for you all the time, love is no crime. Hope and Tears and love, and I did give cupid a push from above, and I'm so glad you didn't call anybody Thomas.
Attachment: Padre Pio and Me.doc
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Pink Floyd, Music and MeOct 15, '09 9:30 AM
for everyone
I've just watched a biography about Pink Floyd's Dark Side of The Moon. It was very good, music really is the soundtrack to our lives. Compared to Music, Writing is rubbish, Photography is better than Writing too. The old saying a picture is worth 1000 words rings true. I used to be surgically attached to a camera as my old boss used to say. Any company event and I was there with my camera. Thats no longer true, but I use it to illustrate the fact that I like photos, taking them and composing them. Straight boring photos were people line up, like in 1950s school photos are terrible. Photos should have energy, I did enter a competition to win a nice new Nicon. but I don't think I've won. They wanted a cycle shot, like in Tour de France. I sent in a photo of my daughter, then aged 3, riding a plastic trycical in our back yard, she was wearing her pink pyjamas and some pearls she'd stolen from my wife. If Nicon have a sense of humour then perhaps I'll win after all. Anyways I hope that proves photos are more powerful than words. Going back to music though, my brother used to have a reel to reel tape recorder and a speaker through which he played music at high volume, to drown out the sound of the rest of us while he was studying. Using this method he got into the best university. So it was then 40years agro that my Love of Music began, at the time it was Cream music, which featured a young Eric Clapton. I still have that speaker in my house. And as for Eric Clapton, I almost carried his bags. Going back to my point though, Music touches us in seconds, a Clapton riff, the first few notes of a piece played by a pianist on a piano, a phrase by Michael Bulee. Musicians have power over us. So much power. Perhaps the caveman who drummed on a skull with a bone from other caveman he'd just eaten; perhaps he, perhaps he excited the cavewoman enough so he could mate with her, and that led to us, and me writing here in Birmingham England and with a press of the button sharing my thoughts with the entire world. So a drumbeat on a skull was the beginning of music, and sex and the continuation of our species. As for writing, thousands of years had to pass before it began and could be used to pass on stories. Storytelling started straight away, as the cavewoman told he sister to get some of the action from the drummer. But the writer as such did not start until thousands of years later. Perhaps that is why Music is deeper within us, and why we hum and whistle or tap tap tap on the steering wheel while we are stuck in traffic. If there are 3 words that can be writtern to compare with the speed of Music's power, perhaps its " I Love You" , "I want you", "Come here...." Words like that, spoken, do have power, but words have to be backed up with better words, stronger words, the words on the page have to ignite to get the reader to read more, to touch the reader. A poem or two of mine can touch people when my poetry is on form, but, but it takes 30seconds for my words to go from the page through somebody's eyes and then finally touch their heart. And that's why I'll always be jealous of drummers, even if the drums are made of leftover skulls from dinner.
Attachment: Crawling Like a Worm in The Dirt.doc
Attachment: Padre Pio and Me.doc
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A Winter's DayOct 13, '09 5:54 AM
for everyone
As I look from my window I see the blue blue sky. Birds dive and soar better than any circus acrobat, they are painting a picture with their wings. Tiny tiny whisps of white cloud remain, like left over candy floss on a childs face, like white whiskers on a very old woman's face.
Curtains are pulled open and windows are inched open too, daylight and fresh air to bedrooms shuttered down against a cold winters night. People stand and yarn and scratch too as they struggle to wake up fully. Then one or two realise they don't wear any pyjamas so they hurry away from their windows, their wives, their husbands, their lovers laughing at their stupidity. At least old Mrs Jones may have had a thrill.
The sounds of morning, of daylight rise. Slowly the sound of the milk float, the sounds of milk bottles clinking together as the milkman does his rounds, this way and that. The sound of of Mrs Murphy walking her dog, the dog panting in the cold winters air. He doesn't have a sheepskin coat to keep him warm. He has his own fur coat but this winter is a cold one, so Goldie the dog could do with an extra coat too.
People dance down their door steps to their car, nagging children to hurry up as its cold. Children write their name in the frost on their neighbours' cars before being told off. John the neigbourhood jogger rushes past, the kids stick their tongue out at him, he does the same, they all laugh, only for John to miss his stride slip on an icy patch and fall to the ground hurting his elbow as he does so. Still laughing the kids get inthe car and are taken off to see grandpa, John is rubbing his elbow and his bum as he gets ups gingerly.
The lads, we are so hard, appear from their homes to noisily attack the day, Sunday is for shouting, but not too loud, as they have headaches and hangovers, did they really chat up that ugly fat girl, but they gave her his brother's mobile number and not his own. They stride off to the news agent for The News Of The World, just for the sports pages, their mums can read the scandal section and the horoscopes.
One or two black people wearing their Sunday best pass by on their way to church, a throwback to decades before when people still went to church and when people still wore their Sunday best. People used to dress up to go to the theatre too, but now, but now.
I reach for the kettle and have my first coffee of the day, coffee with milk and no sugar, the way English people have coffee, not the American way, just the soft English way. My kids want toast and peanut butter, or cheese on toast, so my 3 slices of toast become one slice of toast as I feed my girls. I nag them to put slippers and socks on, yes we have nice carpet but in the winter's weather they are always getting colds, so I nag them, I nag them. My wife nags them in Chinese too, or Shanghai dialect. The phone rings, its Germany calling, or rather my wife's best friend who's calling from Germany, the cackle or hens, of chickens clucking is the noise these 2 Shanghai girls make, as they talk in Shanghai, when are we coming back to Germany is the message. Cluck cluck cluck.
The sky has changed the blue has changed to grey, will the snow return, its been a snowy winter over here in Birmingham, some parts of the country have had the worse weather in 20years. The children have quietened down, my wife has relented and put a nature program on the tv for them. As for me I was going to try and write a poem but instead you see what's before you. I'm half listening to Mike and The Mechanics a cd I've loaded to the computer, "give me the simple life" he sings, I suppose my life is a simple life too. But if we can see the poetry in life then we enjoy the simple things which make up all are lives. All our lives are poetry if only we take the time to watch and listen, while we're making toast for the kids
p.s. This piece was from last Winter.(2010?)
today's readers were....
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