Wedding words part four.

'Then a young man said 'Speak to us of Friendship.' and He
replied 'Your friend is your needs answered. He is your field in
which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for
your peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the 'nay' in your
own mind nor do you withold the 'ay'.
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart:
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all
expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.

Let your best be for your friend. If he must know the ebb of your
tide let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you shuld seek him with hours to
kill? Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter and
sharing of pleasures.

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.'

Extracts from 'The Prophet' by Kalhil Gibran.

Love, Aubrey.

As part of some initiative by the powers that be Princess C-W came home with a free book on Friday. Apparently every Yr.7 in the country was given a novel. My girl chose 'Love, Aubrey.'

This was definitely a good choice. I have just finished it. When you read it feel good, feel sad, feel at a loss but read it with tissues to hand.

He really just couldn't help himself.

After a ropey start to the morning (Saturday a.m.=Sgt. Mjr. Mama, it wasn't pretty) d/Boy finally started talking to me again. Unfortunately it was to pester me into letting him teach me to play chess, all while I was trying to ensure he would be fed in short-order because the alternative was unthinkable.

Once the hunger demon had been calmed I agreed to learn. Let me set the scene.

Rain coming down from a bright sky (seriously), wood fire flickering gently, daughter sitting on the inferior couch computering away and d/Boy had set the chessboard up on the 'zebra' box and was explaining the starting moves. CK was sitting on the gold couch staring into space, a viable and constructive use of a Saturday afternoon.

I was a quick student and d/Boy a fairly handy teacher, holding onto his cool when I again asked which direction a pawn could take. CK was throwing his views in every so often as well . Things progressed apace and soon I was able to remember the moves most of the shapes made, although I was still getting into trouble for saying things like d/Boy's 'Bishop could eat my knight'. It was only once the game was well and truly under way did I notice the increased regularity of CK's contribution to the match.

His verbal contribution that was matched by his increasing proximity to the board. The input became more frequent and reached the complete depths when he actually started moving pieces and suggesting plays. For whatever reason his internal safety sensors were down and he was ignoring my 'shut up and let him do it' glares.

Even my assistant knew when it was time to take cover.

It was a tense match all the way to the end and, despite losing, I feel I must have acquited my self admirably as I was rewarded with the words 'You know, you played much better than I thought you would.'

We forgave CK his misdemeanours and enjoyed mini-yoyos handbaked Chez Trash.

I'm beginning to wish I had put the heating on sooner.

Recent portrait of Princess C-W and destructoBoy.

I have eaten too much cake.

I did not think it was possible but the fact remains - I have eaten too much cake.

I vant to be alone.

"I vant to be alone."

This is my best side Mr. de Mille."

"Bored now."

"Mirror, mirror on the floor ..."

Have you ever...

... gone back through old blog posts? I confess to sometimes smiling (and occasionally giggling) at what I have written previously but the best bit is ALWAYS the comments. Man! You guys are funny!

The Lion of Fire.

My mane is encircling flames.

My heart is scorched wood.

My breath is a sudden spark.

My tail is a burning coal.

My speed is the fastest wind.

My mind is the terror of the heat

And the trail behind me is a trail of devastation.

Author: Known 10 yr old.

100 things (Part 2)

21. I do like the corniness of 1950s technicolour Hollywood musicals.
22. Seeing the ironing basket empty is a fulfilling (if rare) feeling. Although not when it has been emptied onto the floor by a hissy-fitting child.
23. ScottFest rediscovered my camping mojo. Perhaps less bedding next time.
24. Tomato and onion tart is my new favourite 'easy-go-to' meal. Spinkle of salt and a dash of pepper - yummo!
25. I like popular music. Not just that of a 'popular modern beat combo' but music that lives in the Top 40 - Meatloaf, Billy Joel, Cold Chisel, Pink, David Bowie, Elton John, Beyonce, etc, etc. I 'am' a music saddo.
26. My base body temperature is lower than 'normal'. And so is my blood pressure. Doctors rarely believe me and of course I only usually tend to go visit them when my temp is up.
27. The background to my life is BBC Radio Four.
28. I spent several years learning to play both the cello and the trombone. I was better at the trombone but I still really sucked.
29. The ability to read music remains a mystery to me.
30. According to CK I have 'craftability' but am still banned from using sharp power tools.
31. While conversing during a family meal recently both my children asked me who I had got cross with that day. I may need a temperment adjustment it seems. (And for the record it was an ITV film crew.)
32. Social history intrigues me.
33. Photography fascinates me.
34. If I had to choose one era in which to live I would have been an Edwardian (but I would have quite liked the option of antibiotics).
35. Small fluffy domestic animals that stay small give me the creeps. Kittens and puppies - good. Gerbils, hamsters and rabbits - bad.
36. Cake and baking - definitely good.
37. Organised religion seems to fly in the face of the face of its own basic premises.
38. No really, cake is very extremely good.
39. Animal pattern fabric will never be out of style.
40. I am perpetually amazed by how much fur and undercoat results when brushing my big black dogs coat.

The burden of a middle-class childhood.

Princess C-W came home with another bit of homoework. This time for religion. The requirement was to storyboard a scenario happening in whichever soap opera they watch and then suggest a conclusion.

Following is the reported conversation she had with her teacher.

"Excuse me Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I don't watch any soap operas."

Silence as Sir considers options.

"Probably the closest I get to a soap opera is listening to The Archers on Radio Four."

Wedding words part three.

Above you are the stars

Below you are the stones.

As times does pass

Remember,

Like a star your love shouldbe constant.

Like a stone your love should be firm.
Be close, yet not too close.

Have patience each with the other

For storms will come but they will quickly go.

Be free in giving of affection and warmth.

Now and always.

F. Jay Beacon. (adapted)

Wedding words part two/Blogtober self portrait

This is the only wedding picture we have on display.

Adaption of a verse by Anatole France.

"It is not enough to love passionately, you must also love well. A passionate love is good, doubtless, but a beautiful love is better. May you have as much strength as gentleness; may it lack nothing,not even forbearance, and let even a little compassion be mingled with it... you are human, and because of this capable of much suffering. If then something of compassion does not enter into the feelings you have for one another, then these feelings will not always befit all the circumstances of your life together; they will be like festive robes that will not shield you from the wind and rain. We truly love only those that we love even in their weakness and in their poverty. To forbear, to forgive, to console, that alone is the science of love."

Despite my comment here this actually wasn't taken in Swan Hill.

This one makes me think of a McCubbin picture.

Wedding words part one.

CK pulled out all our wedding albums yesterday.

I looked at them instead of getting organised this morning.

I had forgotten how lovely a day that was.

I had forgotten the words we had read out.

I am glad I have found them again.

Without You. (an extract) By Adrian Henry.

Without you every day would be like going back to work after a holiday.
Without you I would probably feel happy and have more money and time and nothing to do with it.
Without you plastic flowers in shop windows would be just plastic flowers in shop windows.
Without you Clark Kent would forget to become Superman.
Without you there would be no colour in magic colouring books.
Without you it would be an offence punishable by a fine of up to $400 or two months imprisonment to be found in possession of curry powder.
Without you all the streets would be one-way the other way.
Without you they would forget to change the weather.
Without you blind men would sell unlucky heather.
Without you there would be
no landscapes/no stations/no houses/
no chip shops/no quiet villages/no seagulls
on beaches.no hopscoth on pavements/no
night/no day/there'd be no city no country.
Without you.

Inside the literal mind of the nine year old boy.

Just as the sun set tonight I sent d/Boy off to brush his teeth en route to bed.

A few seconds later a shout came from the bathroom.

"Look at the moon!"

"Where?" I called back, meaning left or right out the window.

"Outside."

Vale Dame Joan Sutherland.

Truly a great Australian

For Sale.

* Small assistant. Nice line in shouting to be let out before wee accident occurs. Inability to read clock and recognise 'reasonable hour' dictates sales. Terms negotiable.


* Child (blue 2001 model). Quite tall, sound teeth and advancing fixation w style of hair. Growth spurt and resultant shitty moods when required to do something non-compatible w personal life view demand removal from premises. Kicking of tyres when viewing not recommended. All good offers considered.


* Proto-teen (pink 1998 model). Witty, dry SoH. Despite best efforts and years of practice am still unable to communicate w said model. Result - inability of model to understand need to be aware of PE bag when at school. Minimal negotiation on price as need to buy new PE kit. Sadly instruction booklet unavailable. Would suit patient languages student/lecturer.


* Lace pattern book. Thick book w glossy pages and many colour pics. Sadly all patterns include fatal flaw, some just gibberish. Very useful for jigsaw-loving family or care group. Will ensure all pieces included in posting envelope.


* Swap/Trade - buggery awful cough. Just noise, no yuk. Two weeks of ownership means have gotten best from it. Willing to exchange for new lungs and/or oesophaegus. Benefits - sexy husky voice, great abs workout.

The literal mind of the nine year old boy

This morning as I turned off the television I went into Saturday morning 'Sgt Majr Mama mode'.

"Both of you go and strip your beds please." issued forth alongside a whole load of instructions. You know the kind - brush your hair, get dressed, brush your teeth, have breakfast, tidy up, etc, etc. While they finished following orders I started the wash of the bed linen.

Later that morning I turned to d/Boy and said "Boyer, when you take that stack of folded undies and socks (that have been festering for several days on the end of the couch) up to your room will you take your sheet up and put it on your bed please."

I have just been up to his room. There on his bed amid the detritus of a stripped bed is his sheet, all freshly laundered and still folded. *le sigh*

dear Mrs Lurch, you and I may be headed for a smackdown.

The topic was 'Were the Vikings a cruel and barbaric race?'

Princess C-W's essay came back today with a very good mark but also the comment (and I quote)

" If this is all your own work it is excellent. Well done."

So much to my daughter's screaming horror I wrote a note back to Mrs Lurch.

Dear Mrs Lurch,

yes these are Princess Curly-Wurly's words and this is essay is the result of her hard work and research. Given that she (presumably like most of her cohort) had never written an essay before nor been taught how to construct one I naturally walked her through the process; but credit where it is due because this work is most definitely hers.

Sincerely,

Trash

I thought that I was very restrained not mentioning the bit she got wrong about Vikings being a race and all.

How crap is that? Four days into Blogtoberfest and already I missed a post but there is a really good reason, honest.





You see yesterday Maria and I took a little jaunt up to Bath for a bloggy meet-up. Bless her, Maria did all the driving again while I plugged away at the 'Plane Socks' because as we know Christmas is getting ever closer. Having met-up in the driving rain we were prepared to swim our way around Milsom Street but the weather cleared as we approached Bath. (Which was a relief to both of us as heading up Brassknocker Hill in the rain was not something to look forward to.) We were meeting up with Joy and her lovely travelling companions, Daryl and Jess. After rescuing them from the depths of the Marks & Spencer's luggage department with a restorative cup of tea we went off to explore.


I automatically slipped into tour guide mode and dragged them from one end of town to the other heading up toward The Circus and then back down Saracen street to the Cath Kidston shop with a detour via Queen Square. I hope it was a good blend of 'historical and sociolgical tourism' or as it is properly known 'looking and shopping'.

Joy was in such a blissed out state Maria had to collect the shopping for her! Darryl was outside eyeing up The Saracen's Head over the road. He should have gone in, we were at Cath Kidston long enough that he could have downed several pints!



As always at a blog meet up there was much laughing, chatting and a 'knowing' of each other even though you are just meeting for the first time.

Thanks to Joy, Daryl and Jess for sharing a little slice of your holiday with us :-)

We're feeling hot, hot, hot!

Things are heating up here at Trash Towers.

After much swearing and silent shouting this afternoon CK finally placed the guts inside Princess C-W's new heater and then he and d/Boy plumbed it into the electrickery that lives in the wall.

And before that the two of them fitted the new heater into d/Boy's room.

Guess who had to hoover up all the brick dust and swarf afterwards?

The last post was just a fun thing. This? This is desperately serious.

This country needs YOU!

Have just heard on the radio that a new poll has identified the UK has about 6% fewer lesbian, gay and trans-gendered people than an earlier study indicated.

Come on blog world pull together and get those numbers up. Be out and proud now!