Talkin' 'bout...

... whose generation? Different decades, different countries, different generation.

Same as it ever was.

The World and I

by Laura Riding

This is not exactly what I mean
Any more than the sun is the sun.
But how to mean more closely
If the sun shines but approximately?
What a world of awkwardness!
What hostile implements of sense!

Perhaps this is as close a meaning
As perhaps becomes such knowing.
Else I think the world and I
Must live together as strangers and die—
A sour love, each doubtful whether
Was ever a thing to love the other.
No, better for both to be nearly sure
Each of each—exactly where
Exactly I and exactly the world
Fail to meet by a moment, and a word.

Goodnight, Moon

Three nights ago, Joshua comes running out to me from his bedroom.

"Mummy, mummy, come look, come look!"

He pulls me back into his room, and peers out of the corner of his closed curtains. Through the window, he points up at the full moon, round and glowing.

"Moooon!" he says in a soft voice, eyes wide.

"Come on, " I say to him, "let's open the front door and get a better look."

"Okay!" he says excitedly. He is thrilled to be up and awake while his older brother is sleeping.



We go out on the front step and look at the big bright moon together.

"Can I touch it?" he asks, reaching his hand up high towards the sky.

"You can try."

"I can't, Mummy" he says, straining his arm upward. "Mummy, we need an astronaut!"

"Maybe we do indeed, Josh. Maybe we do. Okay, say goodnight to the moon."

"Goodnight, Moon."

We Don't Deserve...

Go read this:

"We don't deserve Al Green.

We didn't deserve Marvin Gaye, Sam Cook, Curtis Mayfield or Nat King Cole. We deserve neither Sam nor Dave. God Damnit, we did nothing to deserve Otis Redding. We didn't deserve the Mills Brothers early stuff, but got what we deserved with the latter stuff. We don't deserve Chuck Berry, we just wish he'd stop acting that way. Same goes with Little Richard. "


And dammit, you know what, we don't deserve One Perfect Green Blanket either! I'm talking about the blog, but we don't deserve Barbara Manning, either.

What a fantastic freaking entry. The sort of entry you read and think, shit, I wish I had written that! And why didn't I think of that for a blog name? And the Al Green download is fantastic too. Sorry, you've missed it, it's gone now, but take it from me, it's wonderful.

Yes, I have discovered mp3 blogs, and verily I say unto thee, they are good.

Strolling

Another waterfront picture...

Photo Gallery Software?

I want to re-do my photo galleries completely, and would really like to use some good photo gallery software, something that creates professional-looking galleries.

Any suggestions? Or links to some very professional-looking photo galleries out there?

Thanks in advance.

Happy Birthday Joshua

I was too tired to write this yesterday. In fact I was so exhausted that I went to bed at 9pm and didn't wake up until 7.30am this morning. It felt like bliss.

Yesterday, my baby turned three. He is growing up so quickly. Almost through the potty-training stage, and soon to start kindergarten. He is so looking forward to kindy. He says to me all the time "Mummy, I'm going to kindy today!" Of course he's not yet, but he is so ready.

Joshua is my happy child. Always smiling. Always (well, almost always) cheerful. Patient. Accepting. Tolerant. Sharing. Cuddly.

Yesterday we had a party for him in the afternoon at his caregiver's house. There were about 10 children in all. We had party games and music and party food and cake and ice cream and presents. And balloons, of course! Joshua loved it.

Here is the birthday boy himself eating some fairy bread. (Fairy bread is a staple of kids' party food here: white bread with the crust removed, buttered, with hundreds and thousands on the top. That's "sprinkles" to you North Americans. We call them "hundreds and thousands" here).



Happy Birthday, my sweet baby.

Spring & Fall

by Gerard Manley Hopkins

to a young child


Márgarét, are you gríeving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Áh! ás the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By & by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep & know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sórrow's spríngs áre the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.

Sails

A beautiful day down on the waterfront.

The Song

Okay, you asked, and so shall ye receive...

You are the generation that bought more shoes and you get what you deserve by Johnny Boy [mp3, 6.4mb].

Enjoy.

You Are the Generation That Bought More Shoes

I'm listening to You Are the Generation That Bought More Shoes and You Get What You Deserve by Johnny Boy.

This is the best pop song ever in the history of pop. Ever. Anywhere. Oh yeah, it also has the best title as well. This song is so mind-blowingly brilliant that I just have to listen to it again. And again. And again.

Well, you get the picture.

Described as "subversive pop" and "Sandinista-era Clash having a shoot-out with Phil Spector", it's got "church bells, boy-girl vocals, loops, twists, walls of sound and edgy guitars." Not to mention the woosh of fireworks.

Go buy this single. I guarantee by the end of the song you'll be on your feet, dancing, punching the air and singing at the top of your lungs "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!"

Upside Down

Thinking Catcher

The other night as I tucked Matthew into bed, he says to me "Mum, tomorrow can we talk about that bad news story that I saw. I want to get rid of it."

I just looked at him, stunned. After not wanting to talk about it all, he was finally asking to discuss it. I said to him, "Of course, Matt"

So the next night we cuddled up on the couch together, and we talked about the news story he had seen where a 14 year old girl had been stabbed in her own bedroom.

We talked about the fact that our house was safe, that all the doors and windows were locked at night. That if somebody tried to break in, they would have to make so much noise it would wake us all up.

Then we talked about ways he could push the bad things out of his mind at night, and think about good things.

"You're in control of your mind, Matt. When you start thinking about a bad thing at night in bed, just say Go Away to it, and think about something good. Think about Christmas, or your birthday, or toys, or playing at the beach."

"I don't know if I can do that all the time."

"Ok, so what else would help? How about a special stuffed animal?"

"Oh Mum, if i had ALL my stuffed animals up on my bed, that would help."

I groaned inwardly. Matt has about 30 stuffed animals of various sizes... I could just picture him not being able to move due to a zoo on his bed. Still, if it helped...

"Mum, I know!" he says,"I need a Thinking Catcher! There are Dream Catchers to catch bad dreams, but I need a Thinking Catcher!"

A Thinking Catcher!

Now why didn't I think of that?!

Big Dunes

The kids love sliding down the huge sand dunes near the beach house. This is Matthew about to heave himself off the edge.