Sunday, August 12, 2018

Today's post brings My Choice My Delight to an end.
A new series of the paintings blog 
Now that's what I call art 
begins tomorrow 
nowthatswhaticallart.blogspot.com

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His Master's Voice
1898
Francis Barraud
1856-1924


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Saturday, August 11, 2018

Llyn-y-Cau, Cader Idris, Wales
1774
Oil on Canvas
511 cm x 73 cm
Richard Wilson 1713-82


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Friday, August 10, 2018

Before Her Appearance
1913
Oil on Canvas
60 cm x 59 cm
Frederick Carl Frieseke
1874-1939


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Thursday, August 9, 2018

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

Young Spanish Woman with a Guitar
Pierre-Auguste Renoir 1841-1919


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Tuesday, August 7, 2018

The Pedlar
c.1500
Oil on Panel
71 cm x 70.6 cm
by
Hieronymus Bosch
c.1450-1516


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Monday, August 6, 2018

Confluence of the Fox River and the Wabash in Indiana
Watercolour
Karl Bodmer 1809-93


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Sunday, August 5, 2018

Landscape with Two Sailing Boats
Armand Guillaumin
1841-1927


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Saturday, August 4, 2018

Woman in a Boat
1917
Oil on Canvas
Anders Zorn
1860-1920


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Friday, August 3, 2018

Thursday, August 2, 2018

The Mirror of Venus 
1875
Oil on Canvas
120 cm x 200 cm
Edward Burne-Jones 1833-98


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Wednesday, August 1, 2018

Tuesday, July 31, 2018

The Battle of the frigate Flora 
against Turkish steamships 
at Pitsunda in 1853
Alexey Bogolyubov 1824-96


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Monday, July 30, 2018

The new poetry blog
My Poetry Digest
is now online
mypoetrydigest.blogspot.com

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An Elegant Couple from Madrid 
c.1770
by Lorenzo Tiepolo
1736-76


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The new Poetry blog 
My Poetry Digest
begins today


Sunday, July 29, 2018

Building the Devil's Bridge
1833
Oil on Canvas
77.8 cm x 104.5 cm 
by Carl Blechen 1798-1840
Nationality - German


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Saturday, July 28, 2018

Now that's what I call Art


The Geographer
Henry Gillard Glindoni 1852-93


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Friday, July 27, 2018

The new poetry blog
The Paul Verlaine Poetry Page
begins tomorrow at

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The Hare 1502
Water colour and Body colour, heightened with white body colour
Albrecht Durer
1471-1528


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Thursday, July 26, 2018

Now that's what I call Art


Take the Fair Face of Woman, and Gently Suspending,
With Butterflies, Flowers and Jewels Attending,
Thus Your Fairy is made of Most Beautiful Things
Sophie Gengembre Anderson 1823-1903


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Wednesday, July 25, 2018

Two new blogs this weekend
The Paul Verlaine Poetry Page
begins on Saturday 28th July
and
My Poetry Digest
begins on Monday 30th July
mypoetrydigest.blogspot.com

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Starry Night over the Rhone
Vincent Van Gogh 1853-90


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Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Now that's what I call Art


Girl at a Window
Rembrandt van Rijn 1606-69


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Monday, July 23, 2018

Now that's what I call Art


The Magic Circle
John William Waterhouse 1849-1917


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Sunday, July 22, 2018

Now that's what I call Art


Terrace of the Restaurant Jacob in Neinstedten
Max Liebermann 1847-1935


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Friday, July 20, 2018

The paintings blog
NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL ART
has now moved to this site from which it will operate in future, being updated every day

BREAKWATER AT SAN SEBASTIAN
Joaquin Sorolla 1863-1923


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Friday, June 29, 2018

No.79
Bonnie Scotland

Ten Great Pictures of the Scottish Countryside



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The next post here is on Tuesday when a short
series of excerpts from popular literature
will begin and continue every
TUESDAY and FRIDAY

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Tuesday, June 26, 2018

No.78

By the beginning of the 20th century every child in Britain was entitled to a basic education. The accent of course was on the three Rs, but geography and history were important as well, and in some schools 12 year olds were beginning Latin.

Part-time schooling was common in certain areas. Where it was necessary for children to earn money for the family budget, those pupils attended school in the morning and went to work in the afternoon, or vice versa.

Many women in impoverished circumstances continued working after marriage. Some went out scrubbing and cleaning for wealthier folk, and others, staying at home, took in washing.

The people who could afford domestic help were those who had their own shop or business, doctors, teachers, lawyers and the clergy.

Some workers were fortunate in having very good employers. An example was the Cadbury factory in Birmingham, where the factory owners built houses, schools, libraries and churches for the workers and their families.

The “top” class of people were the aristocracy of course. Their way of life, which seemed to be a continual round of parties, balls, theatre outings, hunting, fishing and shooting, would experience a serious upset in 1914 - a setback from which it never fully recovered.

This short piece by Agatha Christie gives us a good idea how some of the upper class lived in 1900.

“By modern standards my father was a lazy man. It was the days of independent incomes, and if you had an independent income you didn't work. You weren't expected to. I strongly suspect that my father wouldn’t have been particularly good at working anyway.

“He left our house in Torquay every morning and went to his club. He returned in a cab for lunch, and in the afternoon went back to the club, played whist all afternoon, and returned to the house in time to dress for dinner. During the season, he spent his days at the cricket club, of which he was president. He also occasionally got up amateur theatricals.

“He had an enormous number of friends, and loved entertaining them. There was one big dinner party at our home every week, and he and my mother went out to dinner usually another two or three times a week.”


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An Edwardian Schoolroom


It's difficult to count the number of pupils here. 
There could be more than 50.

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DID YOU KNOW THAT -

1) In 16th century Scotland, the minimum age for marriage was 14 for boys, 12 for girls.

2) In 1791 a labourer earned 3 old pennies per day, a carpenter 6 old pennies per day and a mason one shilling per day. [12 old pennies = one shilling, in today's money a shilling = 5p]

3) Quite a number of French people lived in Kirkintilloch at that time.

4) Mary Queen of Scots with her husband Lord Darnley intended to come to the town in 1565, though there are no reports that the visit actually took place. 

5) It’s likely that King James IV passed through Kirkintilloch, because he had a short stay in a mansion in neighbouring Campsie.

6) Bonnie Prince Charlie and his men marched through the town in 1746. One inhabitant shot and killed one of the soldiers who, it was claimed, had been trying to steal something. The Prince wanted to burn down the town, but some of the local leaders pleaded for mercy, and a fine was imposed instead.

7) The road through Kirkintilloch was the main thoroughfare from west to east - from Dumbarton through Glasgow and Stirling to Edinburgh.

8) In 1710 church elders were appointed to ring a bell on Saturday nights at 9 o’clock to warn drinkers that it was time to go home.

9) It’s believed that there was a settlement in the Kirkintilloch area before the Romans came, since Pictish graves have been discovered 17 feet further down than the Roman road.

10) Most people know that the name Kirkintilloch means something like “the fort at the end of the ridge”. Some of the variations of the name in old documents include Kirkentolagh, Kyrkintullauch, Kirkyntulach, Kirkintholach, Caerpentaloch and the Pictish version Chirchind.

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This old photo, taken in 1901 from the Cross in Kirkintilloch looks down the High Street with the Black Bull Inn on the left. When the town became “dry” and the pubs were closed, the building became the Black Bull cinema. After the Second World War, like so many small picture houses it closed down, re-opening as a Bingo Hall, and for a good few years now it has been a night club.


From very early times the High Street had been the main road into the town from the east, but some years ago it was closed off just past the old Black Bull building to make room for a new road. 


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Next Post Friday

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Friday, June 22, 2018

No.77
Any idea which famous artist painted these three portraits?
Answer is at the end of this blog




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Perhaps the following quotation applies to me?

I tend to live in the past because most of my life is there. (Herb Caen)

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In the years between the two World Wars folks were very class-conscious, much more than they are today.

As young children my sister and I lived in a tenement in a well-kept area, where the stairs in the closes were swept down and washed every week, and the back-courts kept tidy. The people - and their children - were well-behaved, and altogether it was a good environment in which to be brought up.

At the other end of the street however, it was a different story. Large families lived in small houses, many of them room-and-kitchens with outside toilets, and it was clear that, with the bread-winner often unemployed, they had difficulty clothing and feeding themselves. In another part of the town, the houses were much worse and there were stories of rowdiness and drunkenness. Certainly we children would never stray into that area.

At the end of our part of the street there was a little lane which led through to a much more posh part. Most of the houses there were big detached villas, each with a good-size garden, and those folks were just a bit higher up on the social scale.

But there was a further level still, and the people who belonged to that class lived in Lenzie. The houses were even bigger with very large gardens, and we knew that the folk there had servants !

And those were the five social classes, or so we believed. For many of course, the great aim was to progress further up the scale, and that was what happened to my family. When I was ten years old, my father bought a semi-detached house in the area through the little lane, and we left our tenement life behind.  (It’s interesting that my father’s family didn’t approve of our move. People in our class didn’t buy houses, it was implied.)
Much later on, when Jean and I were married with three children, our second home was a 7-apartment Victorian “town house” in Lenzie. But oh no, we were certainly not rich!

It’s now almost 35 years since we left Lenzie and moved to my present home in Auchinloch.

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This is a great view of Multnomah Falls in Oregon, 
showing the footbridge and the upper and lower falls.



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One Perfect Rose
Dorothy Parker 1893-1967

A single flower he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet –
One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;
“My fragile leaves,” it said, “his heart enclose.”
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one’s ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah, no – it’s always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.

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The three portraits were painted by
Pablo Picasso.

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Next post Tuesday

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Tuesday, June 19, 2018

No.76

In youth the days are short and the years are long. In old age the years are short and the days are long. (Pope Paul VI)

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A haiku

too old to travel 
far away places are mine
on the internet

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It was towards the end of the 19th century that four of my father’s uncles went to the USA with the idea of settling there. Two of them Robert and James decided to stay and within a few years their families had joined them.

Today there are Jaaps in different parts of America, and many of them are direct descendants of Robert and James. 

Since we created the Jaap website, quite a few of our American cousins have contacted us from time to time, and one in particular used to send me most interesting e-mails.
One of his messages began with this great picture of a 1909 Ford and was followed by some fascinating statistics showing how Americans lived 100 years ago.



The average life expectancy in America was 47 years.

Only 14% of homes had a bath.

Only 8% had a phone.

There were only 8,000 cars in America

Only 144 miles of paved roads.

In most cities the speed limit was 10 mph.

90% of doctors had no college education.

Most women washed their hair just once a month, and used borax or egg yolk for shampoo.

The main causes of death were pneumonia, influenza, tuberculosis, diarrhoea and heart disease.

2 out of every 10 adults were illiterate.

18% of homes had at least one full-time servant.

More than 95% of births took place at home. 

The e-mail closed with the thought - what will things be like in another 100 years' time? What, indeed!

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Thanks to Pexels.com for this super cloud study . . .




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This is one of my favourite poems . . .

I Opened a Book
Julia Donaldson

I opened a book and in I strode.
Now nobody can find me.
I've left my chair, my house, my road,
My town and my world behind me.
I'm wearing the cloak, I've slipped on the ring,
I've swallowed the magic potion.
I've fought with a dragon, dined with a king
And dived in a bottomless ocean.
I opened a book and made some friends.
I shared their tears and laughter
And followed their road with its bumps and bends
To the happily ever after.
I finished my book and out I came.
The cloak can no longer hide me.
My chair and my house are just the same,
But I have a book inside me.

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Finally, just a pretty sunset to look at . . .


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Next post Friday

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Friday, June 15, 2018

No.75
 Part of a famous forest path
in Ballymoney, Co. Antrim


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The first time I went on holiday without my parents I was 26 years old. Of course, during and immediately after the war, holidays were not possible for most people, and for me those years were followed by the time I spent in the RAF. 

My sister Rita and I went on this holiday together and for 6 days we lived on a cargo ship, along with perhaps a dozen other cruise passengers. From Glasgow we sailed down the Clyde over to Ireland where our first port of call was Dublin, then on to Waterford and finally Cork. 

We had ample time ashore, for cargo had to be unloaded and loaded at each port. From Dublin we visited the popular holiday resort Bray and from Cork we had two trips - one to Killarney and the other to Blarney Castle where Rita kissed the famous Blarney Stone.


No, this isn't Rita! I include this photo just to show the position you need to take in order to kiss the stone.



I remember the sea was very rough indeed when we left Cork for the homeward journey, and most of us were unwell. When we woke the next morning however, the weather was just perfect and we had a great sail all the way home. Since it was Sunday an ecumenical service was held on the deck, conducted by the wireless operator, and guess who played the piano for the hymns? 

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I’ve been in Ireland twice, the second time was perhaps 18 or 19 years ago when Jean and I went on a coach tour to Sligo on the west coast.

From Glasgow we travelled to Stranraer, by ferry to Belfast and then through Northern Ireland into the Republic.

One of our day excursions took us to Knock which has become a world-famous tourist attraction since the visit of Pope John Paul II in 1979. A hundred years earlier there had been many reports of the Virgin Mary along with St Joseph and St John appearing to local people. We were surprised at the large number of shops whose windows were absolutely crammed with statuettes, ornaments and religious souvenirs.

When we assembled for breakfast on our final day, we were shocked to learn that the fuel had been siphoned from the tank of our bus. There was considerable delay waiting for the Gardai, and we just made the ferry minutes before it was due to sail.

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The Giant's Causeway
consists of approximately 40,000 interlocking basalt columns in County Antrim on the north coast of Ireland.

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Finally, this was a popular Irish ballad when I was a boy.


 The Garden where the Praties Grow
words by Johnny Patterson

She was just the sort of creature boys, that Nature did intend
To walk right through the world my boys, without the Grecian bend
Nor did she wear a chignon I'd have you all to know
And I met her in the garden where the praties grow

Have you ever been in love my boys, or have you felt the pain?
I'd sooner be in jail myself than be in love again
For the girl I loved was beautiful I'd have you all to know
And I met her in the garden where the praties grow

Says I: "My pretty Kathleen, I'm tired of single life
And if you've no objection, sure, I'll make you my sweet wife"
She answered me right modestly and curtsied very low
"O you're welcome to the garden where the praties grow"

Says I: "My pretty Kathleen, I hope that you'll agree"
She was not like your city girls who say you're making free
Says she: "I'll ask my parents and tomorrow I'll let you know
If you'll meet me in the garden where the praties grow"

O the parents they consented and we're blessed with children three
Two boys just like their mother and a girl the image of me
And now we're goin' to train them up the way they ought to go
For to dig in the garden where the praties grow

She was just the sort of creature boys, that Nature did intend
To walk right through the world my boys, without the Grecian bend
Nor did she wear a chignon I'd have you all to know
And I met her in the garden where the praties grow

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Next post Tuesday

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

No.74







Jean and I were married 64 years ago today in Sandyford-Henderson Memorial Church in Glasgow. She died on 31st January 2016.

It was when I started working at the church community centre in Glasgow that I met Jean. She was a member of that church, was leader of the Brownies and a frequent visitor to the centre.

Our friendship gradually developed and in the summer of 1953 we went on holiday together to Portsoy. Although we were guests in the local hotel and had our meals there, we were boarded out in a house a short distance away, Jean having a room upstairs while I was downstairs.

There was a piano in the hotel, and we always remembered that one of the guests, in her Aberdeenshire accent, would ask me to give them a “tunie.”

We became engaged in August of that year. 



Jean and her father


Arriving at the church

1954 was the year in which -

Roger Bannister ran the 4 minute mile
The Vietnam War began
There was a hydrogen bomb test at Bikini Atoll in the Pacific
Senator Joseph McCarthy began his anti-Communist hearings in America
The Nobel Prize for Literature went to Ernest Hemingway

Films popular that year included -

The Belles of St. Trinian’s
Brigadoon
The Dam Busters
Doctor in the House
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
White Christmas

On radio there was Hancock’s Half-Hour, the Goon Show and the Billy Cotton Band Show.
On TV the first soap to be screened in the UK was the Grove Family, and 1954 was the year which saw the controversial play 1984.


At the back - my father, Jean's father and my cousin John.
With Mary the Matron of Honour is the flower girl Jane a niece of Jean's.
On the left is Jean's mother and on the right my mother.

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Our wedding, which used the Church of Scotland form of marriage, was conducted by my uncle Rev George Hardie who was a Baptist. At that time he was the Secretary of the Baptist Union in Scotland.

The matron of honour was Jean’s friend Mary, the best man was my cousin John, Rita my sister played the organ and Jean’s brother-in-law Angus was church officer.


My parents


With my parents, my sister Rita and her fiancé Richmond.
They were married later that summer.


After the reception, we went to Central Station where we joined the overnight sleeper to London Euston. From Paddington Station we took the train to Newton Abbot, north Devon, and there we spent the first part of our honeymoon.

Among places we visited were Torquay, Paignton, Buckfast Abbey and we had a sail on the River Dart.

In one of the hotels in Newton Abbot we were befriended by 3 or 4 older men who entertained us with their songs. This was long before Karaoke!


When our time there was over, we returned to London for a week of sight-seeing. We stayed with the parents of Leonard Lewis, my friend from our time in the RAF. Some years earlier my own parents had acted as hosts to Mr and Mrs Lewis when they visited Scotland.
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Next post 
Friday and then updates every
Tuesday and Friday

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