No.23

This is Wallace's Well, just a few miles from where I live. It's said to be the place where William Wallace (1272-1305) had a drink shortly before setting out for Glasgow where he planned to plead with the Bishop of Glasgow, Robert Wishart, for assistance in his fight for Scottish Independence. However, he was betrayed and captured by English soldiers at a farmhouse very close to the well.

He was taken to London where he was tried for treason and for atrocities against civilians in war. He responded to the treason charge, "I could not be a traitor to Edward, for I was never his subject." Following the trial, on 23 August 1305, he was taken to the Tower of London, and then to the Elms at Smithfield where he was hanged, drawn and quartered.

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A Character
by William Wordsworth

I marvel how Nature could ever find space 
For so many strange contrasts in one human face: 
There's thought and no thought, and there's paleness and bloom 
And bustle and sluggishness, pleasure and gloom. 

There's weakness, and strength both redundant and vain; 
Such strength as, if ever affliction and pain 
Could pierce through a temper that's soft to disease, 
Would be rational peace - a philosopher's ease. 

There's indifference, alike when he fails or succeeds, 
And attention full ten times as much as there needs; 
Pride where there's no envy, there's so much of joy; 
And mildness, and spirit both forward and coy. 

There's freedom, and sometimes a diffident stare 
Of shame scarcely seeming to know that she's there, 
There's virtue, the title it surely may claim, 
Yet wants heaven knows what to be worthy the name. 

This picture from nature may seem to depart, 
Yet the Man would at once run away with your heart; 
And I for five centuries right gladly would be 
Such an odd such a kind happy creature as he. 

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Rabindranath Tagore 1861-1941
Bengali poet

Four popular quotes by Tagore

Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add colour to my sunset sky.

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Do not say “It is morning” and dismiss it with a name of yesterday. See it for the first time as a newborn child that has no name.

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I have become my own version of an optimist. If I can't make it through one door, I'll go through another door - or I'll make a door. Something terrific will come no matter how dark the present.

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I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.

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And finally, a colourful change from dog pictures

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photos

No.22

Robert Burns

A portrait by Alexander Nasmyth (1758-1840)

Burns was born on 25th January 1759 at Alloway and died in Dumfries on 21 July 1796.

Some interesting facts from Wikipedia:-

He had little regular schooling and got much of his education from his father, who taught his children reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, and history. Robert was also taught by John Murdoch who opened an "adventure school" in Alloway  and taught Latin, French and mathematics. After a few years of home education, Burns was sent to Dalrymple Parish School, before returning at harvest time to full-time farm labouring until 1773, when he was sent to lodge with Murdoch for three weeks to study grammar, French, and Latin.

Burn's Cottage, Alloway

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This is probably the most familiar Burns song, one that's known all over the world. It reflects the new liberal ideas of the 18th century which were gradually spreading.

A Man's a Man for A' that

Is there for honest poverty 

That hings his head, an' a' that? 

The coward slave, we pass him by - 

We dare be poor for a' that! 

For a' that, an' a' that! 

Our toils obscure, an' a' that, 

The rank is but the guinea's stamp, 

The man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine, 

Wear hoddin grey an' a' that? 

Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine 

A man's a man for a' that. 

For a' that, an' a' that, 

Their tinsel show, an' a' that, 

The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor, 

Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie ca'd 'a lord', 

Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that? 

Tho' hundreds worship at his word, 

He's but a cuif for a' that, 

For a' that, an' a' that, 

His ribband, star, an' a' that, 

The man o' independent mind, 

He looks an' laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak a belted knight, 

A marquis, duke, an' a' that! 

But an honest man's aboon his might - 

Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! 

For a' that, an' a' that, 

Their dignities, an' a' that, 

The pith o' sense an' pride o' worth 

Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may 

(As come it will for a' that) 

That Sense and Worth o'er a' the earth, 

Shall bear the gree an' a' that, 

For a' that, an' a' that, 

It's comin yet for a' that, 

That man to man the world oe'r 

Shall brithers be for a' that.

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A Christmas Tree Maze
December 2016 Edinburgh
A great picure, the photographer not known

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A Zen Story

A student went to his meditation teacher and said, “My meditation is poor! I feel so distracted, or my legs ache, and I keep falling asleep. It’s just awful!”

“It will pass,” the teacher said calmly.

A week later, the student returned to the teacher. “My meditation is wonderful! I feel so aware, so peaceful, so alive! It’s just great!’

“It will pass,” the teacher said calmly.

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"I may look well-behaved, but, if you cause trouble around here, 
I'll soon show you who's boss!"

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No.21

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SONG
by John Clare  

Soft falls the sweet evening
Bright shines the one star
The night clouds they're leaning
On mountains afar
The moon in dim brightness
The fern in its lightness
Tinge the valley with whiteness
Both near and afar

O soft falls the evening
Around those sweet glens
The hill's shadows leaning
Half over the glen
There meet me my deary
I'm lonely and weary
And nothing can cheer me
So meet me agen

The gate it clap'd slightly
The noise it was small
The footstep fell lightly
And she pass'd the stone wall
And is it my deary
I'm no longer weary
But happy and cheery
For in thee I meet all

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Here are three examples of newspaper adverts from the Victorian age.

 a mild disinfectant soap used for household cleaning, 1899 

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It was in December 1930 that work began at John Brown's Shipyard, Clydebank in the construction of a huge liner known as "Hull No. 534." Much time was lost because of the Great Depression but the launching eventually took place on 26th September 1934. The river Clyde had been dredged and widened to take the biggest ship ever launched there. 

The King and Queen were present and despite poor weather, almost a quarter of a million spectators had gathered and heard Queen Mary say, "I am happy to name this ship Queen Mary. I wish success to her and all who sail in her."

The Queen Mary enters the Clyde

I think it was just a few weeks later that an aunt took me to see the ship that so much had been written about. But when we got to a suitable viewing place, we discovered that the vessel was moored a good distance away and for me it was a bit of an anticlimax.

On 27th May 1936 the Queen Mary sailed on her maiden voyage, winning the Blue Riband in August of that year; she lost the title to France's SS Normandie in 1937 and recaptured it in 1938, holding it until 1952 when she was beaten by the SS United States. (The Blue Riband - an unofficial accolade given to the passenger liner crossing the Atlantic Ocean in regular service with the record highest speed.) With the outbreak of the Second World War, she was converted into a troopship and ferried Allied soldiers for the duration of the war.

At the end of hostilities, she was refitted for passenger service and along with the Queen Elizabeth began a two-ship transatlantic passenger service. By the mid-1960s, the Queen Mary was ageing and, though still among the most popular transatlantic liners, was operating at a loss.

After several years of decreased profits for Cunard Line, the Queen Mary was officially retired from service in 1967. She left Southampton for the last time on 31 October 1967 and sailed to the port of Long Beach, California, United States. I understand that she is now berthed at Hamilton, Bermuda.

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This is a photo of Margaret in Chitwan National Park, Nepal

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Granny
by Spike Milligan

Through every nook and every cranny
The wind blew in on poor old Granny
Around her knees, into each ear
(And up her nose as well, I fear)

All through the night the wind grew worse
It nearly made the vicar curse
The top had fallen off the steeple
Just missing him (and other people)

It blew on man, it blew on beast
It blew on nun, it blew on priest
It blew the wig off Auntie Fanny-
But most of all, it blew on Granny! 

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"I like this job. They always stay together 
and I don't need to run around so much."

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No.20

"No matter how many mistakes you make or how slow you progress, 
you are still way ahead of everyone who isn’t trying.”
- Tony Robbins

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This beech tree which used to stand on Castle Hill at Wittenham Champs in Oxfordshire had the following poem carved on it. It's said that Joseph Tubb 1805-79, who had written it, spent two weeks one summer in 1844 completing the carving. Sadly "The Poem Tree" died in the 1990s and collapsed in the summer of 2012.

As up the hill with labr'ing steps we tread

Where the twin Clumps their sheltering branches spread

The summit gain'd at ease reclining lay

And all around the wide spread scene survey

Point out each object and instructive tell

The various changes that the land befell

Where the low bank the country wide surrounds

That ancient earthwork form'd old Mercia's bounds

In misty distance see the barrow heave

There lies forgotten lonely Cwichelm's grave.

Around this hill the ruthless Danes intrenched

And these fair plains with gory slaughter drench'd

While at our feet where stands that stately tower

In days gone by up rose the Roman power

And yonder, there where Thames smooth waters glide

In later days appeared monastic pride.

Within that field where lies the grazing herd

Huge walls were found, some coffins disinter'd

Such is the course of time, the wreck which fate

And awful doom award the earthly great.

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I wonder if any people remember this rhyme. I rather think it's a Glasgow one.

Sugarolly wah-ter, black as the lum,

Gaither up peens an’ ye’ll a’ get some.

Translation = Sugarolly water, black as the chimney, Gather up pins and you'll all get some.

Jean once told me about sugarolly water which her father used to make. A mixture of liquorice sticks and water was put into a lemonade bottle and given a really good shaking. It was put aside for a week and apparently one could tell from its black colour whether it was ready or not. Jean said this was a real treat and one that she always looked forward to.

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"They say that opposites attract. We certainly agree!"

NEXT POST - FRIDAY

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No.19

This photograph was taken in a market in Uzbekistan. 

It shows lacquered boxes for sale at one of the stalls.

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An Edwardian schoolroom. 
It's difficult to count the pupils but I think there might be more than 50.

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 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 - the war was a setback from which the upper class never fully recovered.

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THE SHADES OF NIGHT
A parody of Longfellow's Excelsior
by A.E. Houseman

The shades of night were falling fast

And the rain was falling faster,

When through an Alpine village passed

An Alpine village pastor;

A youth who bore mid snow and ice

A bird that wouldn't chirrup,

And a banner, with the strange device -

MRS. WINSLOW'S SOOTHING SYRUP.

''Beware the pass," the old man said,

"My bold and desperate fellah;

Dark lowers the tempest overhead,

And you'll want your umberella;

And the roaring torrent is deep and wide -

You may hear how it washes."

But still that clarion voice replied:

"I've got my old goloshes."

"Oh stay," the maiden said, "and rest

(For the wind blows from the nor'ward)

Thy weary head upon my breast -

And please don't think me forward."

A tear stood in his bright blue eye

And gladly he would have tarried;

But still he answered with a sigh:

"I'm married."

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This video, taken by a visitor at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, shows how one patient tries to overcome her incapacity. Please use full screen and turn up brightness .

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Good news for all oldies!

According to The Register, old people who use computers are less likely to get dementia. This is the finding of researchers at the University of Western Australia's Centre for Health and Ageing.

So the message is, for folks like me, - Keep on Blogging!!!

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No.18

Do you remember this cartoon character? This is Lord Marmaduke of Bunkerton, better known as Lord Snooty. He appeared in the first issue of The Beano on 30th July 1938, and was the longest running strip in the comic until Dennis the Menace and Gnasher overtook it. Of course, he was always recognised by his shiny top hat!

Top hats are still worn at some society events in the UK, notably at more formal church weddings and race meetings attended by royalty. They are still part of the uniform of certain British institutions, such as Eton College and the boy-choristers of King's College Choir. In show business, it's an important part of the magician's gear; without a top hat, how would he produce a rabbit?

Top hats were worn by men throughout the 19th and the early 20th centuries. There had been quite a bit of opposition to them in the beginning, but this disappeared when Prince Albert set the fashion around 1850. By the end of the First World War, they had almost died out, although in Scotland in the 1930s many of the clergy still wore them on Sundays and at funerals and weddings.

One of our daughters, when in her late teens, acquired one and used to wear it when out with her friends. However, one evening in Glasgow someone grabbed it off her head and escaped with her prized possession.

And you may remember this photo. I've shown it before in different blogs. Yes, that's me with my uncle's topper. He was a Baptist minister.

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Her Father
by Thomas Hardy

I met her, as we had privily planned,
Where passing feet beat busily:
She whispered: "Father is at hand!
He wished to walk with me."

His presence as he joined us there
Banished our words of warmth away;
We felt, with cloudings of despair,
What Love must lose that day.

Her crimson lips remained unkissed,
Our fingers kept no tender hold,
His lack of feeling made the tryst
Embarrassed, stiff, and cold.

A cynic ghost then rose and said,
"But is his love for her so small
That, nigh to yours, it may be read
As of no worth at all?

"You love her for her pink and white;
But what when their fresh splendours close?
His love will last her in despite
Of Time, and wrack, and foes."

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It's Never To Late To Fall In Love
(Song from The Boy Friend, Book, Music and Lyrics by Sandy Wilson)

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AYE HAUD ON
By a Kirkintilloch weaver Peter Sharp who died in 1886

*Aye haud on, and thankfu’ be,
Though little be your store;
And labour on +wi’ eydent haun’
To mak’ that little more.

Discontent will break the heart,
And tak’ the strength awa’,
But cheerfulness sustains us aye,
And mak’s our labour sma’.

*lit. always hold on: keep persevering

+with a diligent hand

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"I've heard of a Caged Bird but never a Caged Dog. Is that fair, little girl?"

Next post - Monday

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No.17

This is me trying on my new cardigan and becoming completely tangled up inside it. Help!

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I sit beside the fire and think
J.R.R. Tolkien

I sit beside the fire and think

Of all that I have seen

Of meadow flowers and butterflies

In summers that have been,

Of yellow leaves and gossamer

In autumns that there were

With morning mist and silver sun

And wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think

Of how the world will be

When winter comes without a spring

That I shall ever see.

For still there are so many things

That I have never seen

In every wood in every spring

There is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think

Of people long ago

And people that will see a world

That I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think

Of times there were before,

I listen for returning feet

And voices at the door.

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Sorry. I have no information about this great photo.

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One day a friend called on Michelangelo and found him busy at the final stages of a statue he had been working on.

A week or so later he returned and, finding the sculptor at the same task, said “It appears that you have been idle since I was last here.”

“Indeed, no,” was the answer, “I’ve retouched this part, I’ve polished that part, I’ve softened this feature, I’ve brought out that muscle and I’ve given more expression to the lower lip.”

“But surely all these things are just trifles?” said his friend.

“Perhaps so,” Michelangelo replied, “But trifles make perfection and perfection is no trifle.”

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The Vending Machine
by Pam Ayres

I am a cunning vending machine lurkin' in the hall

So you can't kick me delicate parts I'm bolted to the wall.
Come on, drop in your money, don't let's hang about,
I'll do my level best to see you don't get nothing out.

I sees you all approachin', the fagless and the dry,
All fumblin' in your pockets and expectant in the eye.
I might be in your place of work, or on the High Street wall,
Trust in me, in theory, I cater for you all.

Within these windows I provide for every human state,
Hunger, night starvation, and remembering birthdays late.
Just read the information, pop the money in - that's grand,
And I'll see nothing ever drops down in your hand.

I might be in your swimming bath, and you'd come cold and wet,
With a shilling in your hand, some hot soup for to get.
And as you stand in wet anticipation for a sup,
I will dispense the soup, but I will not dispense the cup.

And then it's all-out war, because you lost your half-a-nicker.
Mighty kicks and blows with bricks will make me neon flicker.
But if you bash me up, so I'm removed, me pipes run dry,
There's no way you can win, I'll send me brother by and by.

Once there was friendly ladies, years and years before,
Who stood with giant teapots saying, "What can I do you for?"
They'd hand you all the proper change, and pour your cup of tea,
But they're not economic so -  hard luck! You're stuck with me.

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"No, I'm not feeling sad. This is how my face looks normally."

No.16

This card was sent to me by the Sunday School and I see from the reverse side that our address was Burnbank Terrace, Lenzie. That was where I was born, but I think that by the time my next birthday came around we would have moved to the tenement in Kerr Street, Kirkintilloch.

The Christian Church didn’t always approve of observing birthdays and the rejection of celebrating them continued right down to the 4th Century. So many customs and traditions had their roots in paganism and that was the case with birthdays. 

An article from the German magazine Schwabische Zeitung in April 1981 explains that the origins of celebrating birthdays“lie in the realm of magic and religion”. It continues - “The custom of offering congratulations, presenting gifts and celebrating, complete with lighted candles, in ancient times were meant to protect the birthday celebrant from the demons and to ensure his security for the coming year.”

Both the Romans and the Greeks believed that everyone had a spirit who attended the birth and watched over him or her for life, and birthday celebrations were partly in honour of that guardian angel. There was a special significance about sacrificial fire and lighted tapers, which explains why we have candles on our birthday cakes today.

Were birthday parties common in my childhood? I don’t think so, for I can’t remember us having any or going to any. The only children’s party I recall (apart from those held by the Sunday School) was one which our Aunt Frances had for her piano pupils, and all I can remember of that is that I refused to join in a kissing game and went in a huff.

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THE BENEFITS AND MISUSE OF ALCOHOL

written in the 4th century BC by Eubulus

Three cups of wine a prudent man may take,

The first of these for constitution’s sake.

The second to the girl he loves the best,

The third and last to lull him to his rest.

Then home to bed - but, if a fourth he pours,

That is the cup of folly and not ours.

Loud noisy talking on the fifth attends,

The sixth breeds feuds and falling out of friends.

Seven begets blows and faces stained with gore,

Eight, and the watch patrol breaks ope the door.

Mad with the ninth, another cup goes round,

And the swilled sot drops senseless to the ground.

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The Falkirk Wheel

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This day is a special day, it is yours.

Yesterday slipped away, it cannot be filled anymore with meaning.

About tomorrow nothing is known.

But this day, today, is yours, make use of it.

Today you can make someone happy.

Today you can help another.

This day is a special day, it is yours.

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"Have you never seen a chihuahua before? It'd rude to stare!"

Next post - Wednesday
The new blog
RENOIR AND THE IMPRESSIONISTS
is now online
renoirandtheimpressionists.blogspot.com

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No.15

The Large Fountain at Lake Geneva

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THE HUMAN FAMILY

by Maya Angelou 

I note the obvious differences

in the human family.

Some of us are serious,

some thrive on comedy.

Some declare their lives are lived

as true profundity,

and others claim they really live

the real reality.

The variety of our skin tones

can confuse, bemuse, delight,

brown and pink and beige and purple,

tan and blue and white.

I've sailed upon the seven seas

and stopped in every land,

I've seen the wonders of the world

not yet one common man.

I know ten thousand women

called Jane and Mary Jane,

but I've not seen any two

who really were the same.

Mirror twins are different

although their features jibe,

and lovers think quite different thoughts

while lying side by side.

We love and lose in China,

we weep on England's moors,

and laugh and moan in Guinea,

and thrive on Spanish shores.

We seek success in Finland,

are born and die in Maine.

In minor ways we differ,

in major we're the same.

I note the obvious differences

between each sort and type,

but we are more alike, my friends,

than we are unalike.

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Kaaterskills Falls
painted by Thomas Cole 1801-48

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One day an Englishman, a Frenchman, an Indonesian and a Chinaman were passing a drinking fountain, when the Englishman said, “Look, someone’s left a cup on the wall here.”

“No, no”, said the Frenchman, “that’s not a cup, that’s a tasse.”

“You’re both wrong,” said the Indonesian, “It’s a cawan.”

“Now, hold on,” said the Chinaman, “you’re all wrong, that’s a pei, and I can prove it. The Chinese dictionary is much older than any of yours, and anyway more people speak Chinese than any other language. So it’s called a pei.”

 A Buddhist had been standing by listening to the argument. He stepped forward and drank from the cup.

“Whether you call it a cup, a tasse, a cawan or a pei,” he said, “the purpose of this vessel is for it to be used. So why don’t you stop arguing, and drink?”

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At forty I lost my illusions,
At fifty I lost my hair,
At sixty my hope and teeth were gone,
And my feet were beyond repair,
At eighty life has clipped my claws,
I’m bent, and bowed, and cracked,
But I can’t give up the ghost because 
My follies are intact
  - E.Y. Harburg

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"I'm keeping an eye on them. One of them usually takes me out around now."

The new blog
RENOIR AND THE IMPRESSIONISTS
begins on Monday 15th January
renoirandtheimpressionists.blogspot.com

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