Thinking Aloud on a Sunday

More from our man in Beetley…

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Family

I had an unusually deep sleep last night, and woke up remembering a rather vivid dream. It involved personal stuff that I won’t go into here, so this post is not about that dream, before you ask. But it did involve family, which naturally got me thinking about that. Not my immediate family, like my wife, and her children, but the wider topic of family as a concept, in the modern age.

When I was younger, family was something we took for granted. Family, right or wrong, and always above friends, acquaintances, and colleagues of course. You may not have cared that much for a particular family member, but if he was uncle this, or she was auntie that, you tolerated their presence, and went along to visit them too. It didn’t matter if they might be loud, annoying, or even smell of too much perfume. They were family…

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Wash ‘n’ go

A little something special from our Sue (Ani’s human). 😉

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Image: Pixabay

I took a book into the bathtub today
It is something I used to like doing,
But over the past many years, I would say
I’ve grown expert at high speed shampooing.

‘Me time’ a concept that just passed me by
Or abandoned somewhere long ago…
What with fighting the sons for the bathroom each day
I just couldn’t be bothered, you know.

But I had a day off so I dug out the treats
That were sent from way north of the border
I lined up the lotions and potions and stuff
For a beauty regime made to order.

The book waited patiently just within reach
While I turned from lobster to shrimp
And scrubbed and shampooed and perfumed and soaped…
Had a good girly preen and a primp.

I’d forgotten how long this lark takes, though you know
As I tended to each nook and cranny,

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…Authors… Giveaways, Freebies and Promos are all a matter of balance…

More from my fellow septuaganerian McSporran 😉

Seumas Gallacher

…as a writer, I’m often asked, ‘why give yer stuff away for free?’… this ol’ Jurassic Scots scribbler can be as charitable as the next man… but, with a nod to my Caledonian heritage, and to quote a famous writer of the past, “…his generosity knows bounds!…”…delving into the wunnerful WURLD of self-publishing ten years ago, heralded an entire raft of nuances and ‘tricks of the trade’on Auntie Amazon’s Kindle… all in the quest of finding the sweet spot for broadening my readership, and seeing the sales and downloads graphs head skyward… experimentation was the order of the day, mixing and matching the various methods of tempting subscribers… Free Promo spells… auction bids… then Goodreads Giveaways, throwing as many as five or ten copies of books at a time at lucky draw winners… Facebook readers’ groups, much more satisfying, because at least the author gets to…

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Iran: All about one thing

It’s high time the West put a stop to the bullying of other nations over oil!!!

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The last few months (years, let’s face it) have seen a lot of antagonism focused on Iran. That country can’t seem to do anything right, in the eyes of others. Ever since the hostage crisis that ended in 1981, it has been vilified as the cause of so many problems, not only in that region, but the world over. If they couldn’t actually pin anything on the Iranians directly, they complained about the use of ‘Iranian-supplied weapons’, or ‘Iranian-backed troops’.

They didn’t mention all the Western-supplied weapons, or Western-backed troops. Oh no.

Remember the long war Iran fought against Iraq? It was from 1980-1988, to jog your memory. During that war, we all thought the Iraqis should win, and wanted the Ayatollahs in Iran to be defeated. Our governments did, anyway, and told us that was the preferred outcome. So we supported Iraq with weapons, advisers, and probably money too…

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Thursday Doors

More from our Jean 😉 x

Jean Reinhardt

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I just couldn’t resist taking some photos of this wee cottage for Thursday Doors. It’s near where we parked our car on our last visit to Killykeen Forest Park in Cavan (featured in last week’s post).

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Nature is slowly reclaiming the space, as you can see from the image. I wonder where the descendants are now, of the people who originally lived there. I peeked inside the door but it was too dark to see anything clearly and I wasn’t adventurous enough to brave the creepy crawlies I knew would be lurking within, ready to pounce on me, at any moment. I could feel their eyes staring at me through the darkness – okay, so I’m exaggerating slightly, it’s the writer in me coming out.

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The house we are living in now, and still renovating, wasn’t quite as bad as this one but it was getting there. You might have…

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What Is Your Job?|شغل شما چیست؟

What Is Your Job?|شغل شما چیست؟

More from the lovely Laleh 😉 x

A Voice from Iran

Once a friend, who is a successful pediatric Doctor was sharing an effective memory of his.

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He said;

I was coming out of a bank very happy because I had just deposited a great amount of money out of my hard work.

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In those days, there were no cell phones to make a phone call while you were out, you had to use public phones.

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I didn’t have any change so I decided to get some change from the guy who had a little shop on the street. A not-so big cloth was spread on the ground with some batteries, and other small things.

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I really didn’t need any of those things so I approached him and said: “Sorry, can I get some change please, I need to make a phone call,” and showed him my bill.

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He smiled and gave me a coin from a separate jar and said:…

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Waters of Memory

Waters of Memory

From Justin in sunny Malta 😉

The Champagne Epicurean

Waters of Memory

 

In the fields that spread before us

Lies shyly hidden the waters of Mnemosyne.

Like lovers reunited after ash-cloud wars

We set off journeying to the waters.

Through titanic clouds and spikenard winds

We travel the fields of manifold lives.

When we arrive we will let lay on our tongues

The waters that silence the night of the mind.

As we drink, the borders to paradise will fade

And we may migrate back and forth

Over the horizons of Elysium;

Not as gods, not as heroes,

But as two souls unforgettably conjoined.

Pallas Athena

In her youth, Athena took on the name

Of her sister Pallas, when she mistakenly killed her.

Pallas Athena, born screaming and crying,

Was patroness of wisdom and heroes

Bound to love by the fragile bonds of grief.

As you take my name on the morrow

Pallas Athena will watch over you…

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