Hi there,long time no blogs,a few changes between then and now.Moved from Stafford to Anglesey,an island of the North Wales coast,sold the mini and bought a two seater sports tourer.
I'm renting a cottage,well a converted stone barn really,one of three converted from original farm buildings.The farm itself is now a vineyard cum orchard between the villages of Niwbwrch and Dwyran and just a five minute drive from the Menai Straits and opposite Caernarfon Castle.
I'd totally forgotten about this blog till it popped up while I was looking for help to find a Dirk Bogarde dvd.Over the years I must have seen most of his movies but I only have one in my small collection,"Death in Venice".The one I'm searching for is his last one,"Daddy Nostalgia".Amazon has some copies on their site,but one is an American dvd,which I can't play on my player,and the others are French and Spanish but with no English subtitles.I've seen clips from this film and I would like a copy of it,so if anyone here can suggest where I might find one.
Now I must get my dinner underway so I'll finish here,till tomorrow when I'll get back to blogging again,bye.
Sunday, 1 October 2017
Saturday, 11 May 2013
Has it been this long?
I hadn't realised it had been that long since I blogged,don't time fly.Still two or three names out there I remember,so here I go.
Well since I was last here there's been a few changes,I've retired,bought a new trike,well not that new,and moved house.I'll get back to the first two another time and stick with the move today.
I've moved from the centre of England to an island just off the North Welsh coast.From a three bedroom semi to a cottage on a farm.From being woken by rush hour traffic to the morning call of pheasants,looking up into a streetlight yellow sky to a starlit one.From a ten minute walk into town to a ten minute drive to a white,sandy beach.And on a clear day,while making my morning coffee,I can look out of my window and see the mountains on the mainland.
It has it's short comings,such as a drive to the closest shops,the thirty minutes to the nearest town,and the hour to the nearest large shopping centre.And the lack of a cinema,but the only film I've wanted to see since moving here is Quartet,and I have that on DVD.It can be a little wet and windy,but on the other hand we had snow for only one day this winter,and last week,while walking across the dunes,I noticed snow still in the shadowed parts of Snowdonia.
Balancing up the pros and cons,I don't think I'll move back to England,even if it means having to learn Welsh,at my great age.:-)
Well since I was last here there's been a few changes,I've retired,bought a new trike,well not that new,and moved house.I'll get back to the first two another time and stick with the move today.
I've moved from the centre of England to an island just off the North Welsh coast.From a three bedroom semi to a cottage on a farm.From being woken by rush hour traffic to the morning call of pheasants,looking up into a streetlight yellow sky to a starlit one.From a ten minute walk into town to a ten minute drive to a white,sandy beach.And on a clear day,while making my morning coffee,I can look out of my window and see the mountains on the mainland.
It has it's short comings,such as a drive to the closest shops,the thirty minutes to the nearest town,and the hour to the nearest large shopping centre.And the lack of a cinema,but the only film I've wanted to see since moving here is Quartet,and I have that on DVD.It can be a little wet and windy,but on the other hand we had snow for only one day this winter,and last week,while walking across the dunes,I noticed snow still in the shadowed parts of Snowdonia.
Balancing up the pros and cons,I don't think I'll move back to England,even if it means having to learn Welsh,at my great age.:-)
Sunday, 10 October 2010
Why!
My darling Joyce had a few strange,maybe just odd,ideas.We had a friendship that blossomed into love,then became an affair.My marriage had ended,hers had almost died.I'd given her a key to my flat and even though we might go days without seeing each other I always knew when she had been there.We both smoked yet there was never a dirty ashtray,drank coffee,but never a cup left for me to wash.My bed was always as I left it,but as a poet put it,and better than I ever could."The lily she held,in her hands as she passed by,left her fragrance here."
She,at times,might leave a note,I a letter or a poem,usually written in the early hours of that morning.Maybe foolishly,she kept these romantic ramblings in her purse,where one day Alf found them.It must have been weeks later when,during an argument or after some harsh words,I don't know which,he told her that he had found and read them.She was having the affair yet,"how dare he read her private letters!"
Things must have become more awkward between them after that because a few weeks later Alf told her that she had to make a decision,him or me.But why,couldn't he see that she still loved him.Alright,she needed me or what we had,but that didn't alter how she felt about him.Why couldn't she have both of us,she had enough love for both.
A couple of days later she phoned to ask me to come and bring her home,and that evening was the first we shared a bed,knowing that the next morning she would still be there.
The strange thing was that Alf had flu,and next morning Joyce showered,dressed,kissed me,then went round to see how he was.She remade his bed,made some hot lemon drink and some soup,and continued doing this until he was better.A couple of years later when Alf remarried,she made sure their son was up,scrubbed,dressed,with a tie,and at the church in time.
Joyce was one wonderful woman,and its lucky this isn't on paper.
She,at times,might leave a note,I a letter or a poem,usually written in the early hours of that morning.Maybe foolishly,she kept these romantic ramblings in her purse,where one day Alf found them.It must have been weeks later when,during an argument or after some harsh words,I don't know which,he told her that he had found and read them.She was having the affair yet,"how dare he read her private letters!"
Things must have become more awkward between them after that because a few weeks later Alf told her that she had to make a decision,him or me.But why,couldn't he see that she still loved him.Alright,she needed me or what we had,but that didn't alter how she felt about him.Why couldn't she have both of us,she had enough love for both.
A couple of days later she phoned to ask me to come and bring her home,and that evening was the first we shared a bed,knowing that the next morning she would still be there.
The strange thing was that Alf had flu,and next morning Joyce showered,dressed,kissed me,then went round to see how he was.She remade his bed,made some hot lemon drink and some soup,and continued doing this until he was better.A couple of years later when Alf remarried,she made sure their son was up,scrubbed,dressed,with a tie,and at the church in time.
Joyce was one wonderful woman,and its lucky this isn't on paper.
Sunday, 3 October 2010
A grey bearded bikers question.
I have a question,a bit long winded,but only a simple question.When I first started watching motorcycle racing,at Crystal Palace or Brands Hatch and the only Japanese bikes on the tracks were Honda Benlys with race kits,most of the bikes were naked.The riders used to make themselves as small as possible and were one with the bike.Then we saw Mooneyes Cooper riding a faired in bike and hanging a knee out as he went into a bend.I thought this knee out cornering style was to help late cornering because as the knee came out his head and shoulders came up from behind the fairing and acted as a airbrake.
Now I hear that along with the change in tyre shape and knee pads it helps control the angle of lean.
While I was watching the MotoGP Sunday I noticed some of the riders hanging a leg out at the end of the straight and some way before the bend then put the foot back on the peg and leave a knee out as they hit the bend.Now my question is,why.Why hang the leg out waving in the air.Doesn't it upset the balance,I can see how it might stop someone passing on the inside but there must be some other reason.Anyway,it looks ugly.
Now I hear that along with the change in tyre shape and knee pads it helps control the angle of lean.
While I was watching the MotoGP Sunday I noticed some of the riders hanging a leg out at the end of the straight and some way before the bend then put the foot back on the peg and leave a knee out as they hit the bend.Now my question is,why.Why hang the leg out waving in the air.Doesn't it upset the balance,I can see how it might stop someone passing on the inside but there must be some other reason.Anyway,it looks ugly.
Saturday, 2 October 2010
Thans Derek.
This piece started out as a question.Which live bands,singers or musicians stand out in your memory.I'd started making my list,not alphabetical,just as they came to mind,when I realised how many of these guys I'd first heard playing as part of one paticular band.The Music Improvisation Company,or just,Company.
In north London there be a building,unless they knocked it down,but they wouldn't dare.It was,at one time,where trams were repaired,cleaned,turned around and sent on their way again.It was a large round building,hence its name,The Roundhouse.After the trams stopped running it lay empty until it started being used for the occasional rock or jazz gig.It was a great place,you could get a pint and a bite to eat,wander about,chat with friends or just sit and listen.This was where I first heard Company and was blown away by my first experience of free improvisation.
Company was a loose......company of musicians,English German,American,Dutch,and if my memory serves me well, a Belgium cellist who had the cello chained to his chair so that if at any time he was moved ,the chair would move with him.It was formed by the guitarist Derek Bailey,who it took me a while to,not understand more, hear properly,realise where he was.Company could be anything from a soloist up to six or seven musicians,blending,mixing,blowing with each other for a couple of minutes or half an hour.And what musicians,Evan Parker,Leo Smith,Anthony Braxton,Hans Bennink.
My record collection would be a lot smaller without that day,thanks Derek.
In north London there be a building,unless they knocked it down,but they wouldn't dare.It was,at one time,where trams were repaired,cleaned,turned around and sent on their way again.It was a large round building,hence its name,The Roundhouse.After the trams stopped running it lay empty until it started being used for the occasional rock or jazz gig.It was a great place,you could get a pint and a bite to eat,wander about,chat with friends or just sit and listen.This was where I first heard Company and was blown away by my first experience of free improvisation.
Company was a loose......company of musicians,English German,American,Dutch,and if my memory serves me well, a Belgium cellist who had the cello chained to his chair so that if at any time he was moved ,the chair would move with him.It was formed by the guitarist Derek Bailey,who it took me a while to,not understand more, hear properly,realise where he was.Company could be anything from a soloist up to six or seven musicians,blending,mixing,blowing with each other for a couple of minutes or half an hour.And what musicians,Evan Parker,Leo Smith,Anthony Braxton,Hans Bennink.
My record collection would be a lot smaller without that day,thanks Derek.
Friday, 1 October 2010
Have I this thing about.....
First there was Carol.Thirteen when we met,living only minutes apart we passed each other on the way to our schools.What do I remember,ginger hair,freckles,and green green eyes.I heard she became a navy wife,but that was when we were young.
Another four years before Margaret.With her blue,shot silk dress,auburn hair falling halfway down her back,and as I later learned,hidden freckles.We grew together,and then apart,yet even now if she would call.
Joyce,her flame red hair,freckles,and deep green brown eyes,she moved like a cat.Dancing with her was like drifting,and in her arms I floated on a cushion of love.I wake from a dream,the dream is she and I want it never to end,but it does.With a sigh and a tear.
Another four years before Margaret.With her blue,shot silk dress,auburn hair falling halfway down her back,and as I later learned,hidden freckles.We grew together,and then apart,yet even now if she would call.
Joyce,her flame red hair,freckles,and deep green brown eyes,she moved like a cat.Dancing with her was like drifting,and in her arms I floated on a cushion of love.I wake from a dream,the dream is she and I want it never to end,but it does.With a sigh and a tear.
Thursday, 30 September 2010
I remember it well.
You may not believe this but I've been known to have a moan,not often,only six or seven times a week.People parking outside my house,my Polish neighbours inability to argue quietly,automated phone calls,automatic tills that shout at me.But there is one moan I have every single day,television repeats.I pay £150.00 for a licence that allows me to watch last years programmes.Maybe thats why I listen to a lot of radio.
The BBC have six radio stations covering everything from pop,rock,MOR,through to classical music and the spoken word.So which one is my favourite,Radio 7,a station whose programming is nothing but repeats.From 5am till 4.59am I can listen to classic radio programmes from the early fifties up to the twenty first century.Now unless you live in the UK,have friends or relations there, some of the following will mean nothing to you.
If I switched radio 7 on at 5am today,which I did,I could have listened to a chapter of Oliver Twist,followed by Anne of Green Gables.For the next two hours its childrens radio,but then,at 8am its The Goon Show.Peter Sellers,Spike Milligan and Harry Secombe,first broadcast in 1958.At 10am is the second of a three part production of Elizabeth Gaskels novel,Ruth.At 3.15pm its George Melly and Terry Hands discussing Jean Genet's,The Balcony.From 9.15 to10 pm is an 1861short story about an English girl in Salem.
I'll admit that some of these programmes might be on two or three times during the day,this just means that if I miss the Goons first time I'll have chance to hear them later.Tomorrow I can listen to The Navy Lark,Doctor Syn,Journey Into Space and High Table,Lower Orders.
Of course there are many other radio stations,local and commercial,but none like BBC Radio 7.
The BBC have six radio stations covering everything from pop,rock,MOR,through to classical music and the spoken word.So which one is my favourite,Radio 7,a station whose programming is nothing but repeats.From 5am till 4.59am I can listen to classic radio programmes from the early fifties up to the twenty first century.Now unless you live in the UK,have friends or relations there, some of the following will mean nothing to you.
If I switched radio 7 on at 5am today,which I did,I could have listened to a chapter of Oliver Twist,followed by Anne of Green Gables.For the next two hours its childrens radio,but then,at 8am its The Goon Show.Peter Sellers,Spike Milligan and Harry Secombe,first broadcast in 1958.At 10am is the second of a three part production of Elizabeth Gaskels novel,Ruth.At 3.15pm its George Melly and Terry Hands discussing Jean Genet's,The Balcony.From 9.15 to10 pm is an 1861short story about an English girl in Salem.
I'll admit that some of these programmes might be on two or three times during the day,this just means that if I miss the Goons first time I'll have chance to hear them later.Tomorrow I can listen to The Navy Lark,Doctor Syn,Journey Into Space and High Table,Lower Orders.
Of course there are many other radio stations,local and commercial,but none like BBC Radio 7.
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