I was one of the original creators of the Triangle of Life cards and as such spent time looking at the marketing of the product. I was not allowed to actually engage with this apart from producing names and addresses of potential suppliers so that Dragon or her son could contact these. My actual expertise in marketing was considered non-essential, as they were both natural entrepreneurs. Dragon’s son had the idea to launch the product in an up market restaurant/wine bar that a friend of his owned. I was informed that we would be doing this and that there would be celebrity guests there, in general a glittering evening where the cards would be demonstrated for the amusement of the guests and media. This sounded perfect and I was pleased to fall in with the suggestion.
Time slowly passed and I queried the event date. It seemed there was a holdup. Eventually I was informed that it would now be held at Dragon’s house so that there was no further delay and that a marquee would be erected to take the large number of guests. There was nothing for me to do but turn up. I considered writing a piece for the local newspaper, a form of advertorial that new companies are inclined to produce in the hope of gaining free space. This was disregarded, as Dragon is well known for her erudite writing. I reminded her that if she was going to contact both the local paper and any other press that this should be done in advance of their deadlines. I got the impression that I was somehow telling my grandmother how to suck eggs, and so I left everything in her capable hands.
I checked in on the Friday prior to the launch and was slightly perturbed when Dragon asked me if I had telephoned the local paper. I began to get the feeling that my previous advice had been totally disregarded. “No,” I replied to her, “You said that you were taking care of the press”. It was certainly too late to catch a reporter but I did email the local office in the vague hope that one might be looking for copy for next weeks edition and also there was the possibility of sending a belated advertorial regarding the launch.
The day, or rather the evening dawned. I dressed in my glittery, eveningwear and swaned into the assembly. The usual suspects were occupying the comfortable seats in the lounge area. These comprised Dragon’s family and close friends. There were old friends’ of Dragon’s son there and numerous neighbours. I espied two psychics that I knew through the Delphi chat site and it was a pleasure to see them again. I was placed on the upper landing of the house at a card table and a queue was formed up the stairs for me to read. As Dragon does not read for her family and friends, I was allotted the task of so doing. I stated that there were certain of her friends that I would not read for as I found them singularly unpleasant, and this was accepted. Eventually as I neared total exhaustion Dragon took over and I had the chance to speak to some of the guests.
There were no members of the press present and no people from the trade. The celebrities were noticeable by their absence and I was left feeling very used and greatly saddened that all that hard work and potential had been in vain. The marquee that was specially bought for the occasion and could have been used again or even hired out to regain costs was left to fall apart in the autumn storms.
Thursday 30 April 2009
Monday 27 April 2009
The Angel Saga Continues
Over the weekend we have acquired some new neighbours. The father of the new owner, being a builder, has dedicated this next week to renovating the property and fixing fences. There is some muted banging going on at present, for which they have apologised in advance. An attempt was made on the bushes and parts of the path weeded during Saturday afternoon and I must admit that I did feel guilty as I could not clip my overhanging bushes as I would have normally done.
The cats meanwhile are about to face climbing fences rather than sauntering through the gaps left by the winter storms. My main concern is that Angel brings the kittens through before her passageway is impeded entirely. She has largely ignored us for two days apart from an evening feast but today she demanded breakfast and part of this was eaten in the kitchen. This is a major breakthrough as she has not had the courage to do this before and the other cats settled to eating with her despite her bad language.
Last Monday I was in hospital for some more interesting tests one of which being a somewhat lengthy procedure. I had undergone three quarters of this when they equipment decided to malfunction and as there were no other machines available they had to stop. I must admit I was not happy at this as it necessitates my attendance for another try tomorrow and the consumption today of some quite evil medicines. I will be in the house for the first part of the morning but then I will have to leave to reach my appointment in time so I am slightly worried that if Angel repeats today’s activities that she will feel I am dismissing her needs. The best scenario would be for her to transfer the kittens to the hutch during this evening, but I am not holding my breath as I can see she is a small cat of little sense.
The cats meanwhile are about to face climbing fences rather than sauntering through the gaps left by the winter storms. My main concern is that Angel brings the kittens through before her passageway is impeded entirely. She has largely ignored us for two days apart from an evening feast but today she demanded breakfast and part of this was eaten in the kitchen. This is a major breakthrough as she has not had the courage to do this before and the other cats settled to eating with her despite her bad language.
Last Monday I was in hospital for some more interesting tests one of which being a somewhat lengthy procedure. I had undergone three quarters of this when they equipment decided to malfunction and as there were no other machines available they had to stop. I must admit I was not happy at this as it necessitates my attendance for another try tomorrow and the consumption today of some quite evil medicines. I will be in the house for the first part of the morning but then I will have to leave to reach my appointment in time so I am slightly worried that if Angel repeats today’s activities that she will feel I am dismissing her needs. The best scenario would be for her to transfer the kittens to the hutch during this evening, but I am not holding my breath as I can see she is a small cat of little sense.
Saturday 25 April 2009
Bluebells and Fey Folk
My garden(s) both front and back are at present a sea of blue and mauve flowers, with the occasional white hybrid thrown in for good measure. It is the time of bluebells and forget-me-nots, which thrive in this soil. Technically we have heavy clay but my mother worked quite an amount of sand and manure into parts of it and I have added composted manure and vegetable waste. It is still clay and prone to dry hard and crack at the slightest sign of sun but fertile clay.
I was looking at data on bluebells as mine have hybridized over the years and it would seem that the real English bluebell is the one that gives off a pleasant scent on warm days. I have always brought some into the house because of the scent but I had not realized that all parts of the plant are poisonous or that they are linked so intensely to fairy folklore. So to any fairies reading this I extend my apologies for marauding through their favourite plants so ungallantly.
There are a variety of versions regarding the link to the wee folk but mostly it seems they decorate their ponies with the flowers and like to dance to the sound of their ringing bells. For a human to hear the bells ring may indicate the need to make a will rather fast or (I prefer the or version) herald their entrance into the fairylands that exist in a form of parallel world pocket to our own. The downside of expecting to be transferred is that they are not likely to want to abduct someone of my advanced years.
I first learned of their link to bluebells in Liverpool at the November conference that I attended. I always find it strange to come across apiece of folklore that intrudes into my reality segment, as if I should have known that bluebells were so closely connected. I was aware of the Oak, Ash and Thorn connection courtesy of Rudyard Kipling and Puck of Pooks Hill. I was also familiar with the ring of toadstools, which can also be a ring of mushrooms. I have even seen and stepped into such a ring in the vague hope that something magical will come to pass. Perhaps it did and this is an alternate universe to the one I started off in but somehow even my fantasizing brain doubts this.
We have had too much sun this year so the life cycle of my bluebells will soon be reduced to the shedding of seed and the slow withering of the leaves. On the upside I do not have to strim those areas of the grass that they have colonized until they die completely away. In the meantime, this is the best time of the year to look out and appreciate my forest clearing.
Meanwhile to any who are reading my blogs, Angel did stop by for a large meal yesterday evening before vanishing yet again.
I was looking at data on bluebells as mine have hybridized over the years and it would seem that the real English bluebell is the one that gives off a pleasant scent on warm days. I have always brought some into the house because of the scent but I had not realized that all parts of the plant are poisonous or that they are linked so intensely to fairy folklore. So to any fairies reading this I extend my apologies for marauding through their favourite plants so ungallantly.
There are a variety of versions regarding the link to the wee folk but mostly it seems they decorate their ponies with the flowers and like to dance to the sound of their ringing bells. For a human to hear the bells ring may indicate the need to make a will rather fast or (I prefer the or version) herald their entrance into the fairylands that exist in a form of parallel world pocket to our own. The downside of expecting to be transferred is that they are not likely to want to abduct someone of my advanced years.
I first learned of their link to bluebells in Liverpool at the November conference that I attended. I always find it strange to come across apiece of folklore that intrudes into my reality segment, as if I should have known that bluebells were so closely connected. I was aware of the Oak, Ash and Thorn connection courtesy of Rudyard Kipling and Puck of Pooks Hill. I was also familiar with the ring of toadstools, which can also be a ring of mushrooms. I have even seen and stepped into such a ring in the vague hope that something magical will come to pass. Perhaps it did and this is an alternate universe to the one I started off in but somehow even my fantasizing brain doubts this.
We have had too much sun this year so the life cycle of my bluebells will soon be reduced to the shedding of seed and the slow withering of the leaves. On the upside I do not have to strim those areas of the grass that they have colonized until they die completely away. In the meantime, this is the best time of the year to look out and appreciate my forest clearing.
Meanwhile to any who are reading my blogs, Angel did stop by for a large meal yesterday evening before vanishing yet again.
Friday 24 April 2009
From Here to Maternity
There are a surprisingly large number of cats in our road. Many households now have two or three each. The area is not as concreted over as many in the locale but there are a few gardens both front and rear that boast hard surfaces. Our back garden is a fairly chaotic place with trees and shrubs in abundance and this attracts not only the local birds but also foxes and cats, making it an ideal vantage point to see wildlife in an urban setting. The house cats are not particularly fond of sharing their territory, although the younger ones do sometimes play tag with each other and their chosen neighbours. One of our visitors is called Angel, mostly because she is so dainty and really beautiful. She is a long-haired white and black cat with some grey tones. The effect with large saucer eyes is quite haunting. We have never been able to find where she came from but judging from her initial size, which has not changed that greatly she was approximately three to four months when she first appeared in our garden. She naturally shuns much of humanity and even other cats but she truly loves being in touch with nature.
It was early summer when we first became aware of her and as the season lengthened and finally dissolved into autumn she was still there, hiding from the others and looking at a world, that should have seemed natural through slightly fearful glasses. We tried to tempt her in but she evaded our efforts.
Eventually winter took hold and I felt that she would look on this askance and soon we could treat her as one of the family. This proved untrue and even when, with the help of the local Cat Rescue person I managed to trap her in the house she proved unco-operative and escaped during the night via the cat flap. That was not to say that she was averse to lying on the sofa, with me, and having her fur ruffled, because that she seemed to enjoy. To those with new cats this may seem strange as mostly kittens take between one to three weeks to engage with a cat flap. It was at this point that we were certain she had been a house kitten and chosen to live outside.
As the seasons turn so do female cats come in to their natural season and thus our small Angel became a rather hippy child that middle daughter referred to as suffering from gas. My youngest daughter and her partner were overjoyed as they saw her as the epitome of all that was desirable in a house pet. (Sometimes I wonder about the young and their perception of reality) Much speculation ensued and orders were placed for potential offspring. We waited. Easter turned and there was little response until the early hours of the Easter Monday. She displayed all the signs of a cat in the progress of labour. We were not allowed to leave her alone. Youngest daughter and I sat out in the dark until gone three am despite the heavy dew and the inevitable damage to our lungs. Eventually she climbed into the rabbit hutch, which we had streamlined for her comfort and went to sleep. We crawled off to bed. No kittens were forthcoming.
Life resumed some sense of normality for two days until she suddenly walked off into the sunset and no more was seen of her for some four days. By this time I had been back to the local hospital for more tests and was not in the mood or physical condition to follow small felines on a creative kitten search. Luckily she came back the next evening and for this we were delighted. Youngest daughter had by this time returned to Preston and I immediately telephoned her with the good news.
Meanwhile in the depths of Hungary and just returned from her Milan trip eldest daughter was also fretting about the state of kittendom. I had to email reassurance of her return. The next day I awoke to find Angel at my bedroom window looking starved. (I am sure that she took an acting course to achieve this look as it is so professionally carried out.) Although I was very tired I got up and stayed within her reach for the next six hours. She had numerous food pouches and lots of concentrated dried food, together with a tin of red salmon I had saved for my lunch and some evaporated milk that I had purchased in case I needed to hand rear kittens. She spent much of the morning close to the hutch and we were again excited. The kittens had obviously been born elsewhere and it is unusual for a mother cat to move too far away from them. We surmised that they had been moved during the night into the hutch. As if to prove this she then started a tour of my room and the kitchen area of the house seeking another place for her brood. Eventually she took off over my neighbour’s wall and I went outside and peered into the rabbit hutch. There were no kittens.
It was some twenty minutes later that Angel re-appeared. She ate some more and then she had a dust bath before taking over a sunny spot for a long sleep. If ever a cat was happy she was definitely it. She ate yet again and sauntered off with out a care in the world. I had spent by this time, twelve hours on Angel watch and I felt exhausted. It is now the next day and she has not yet shown her face.
It was early summer when we first became aware of her and as the season lengthened and finally dissolved into autumn she was still there, hiding from the others and looking at a world, that should have seemed natural through slightly fearful glasses. We tried to tempt her in but she evaded our efforts.
Eventually winter took hold and I felt that she would look on this askance and soon we could treat her as one of the family. This proved untrue and even when, with the help of the local Cat Rescue person I managed to trap her in the house she proved unco-operative and escaped during the night via the cat flap. That was not to say that she was averse to lying on the sofa, with me, and having her fur ruffled, because that she seemed to enjoy. To those with new cats this may seem strange as mostly kittens take between one to three weeks to engage with a cat flap. It was at this point that we were certain she had been a house kitten and chosen to live outside.
As the seasons turn so do female cats come in to their natural season and thus our small Angel became a rather hippy child that middle daughter referred to as suffering from gas. My youngest daughter and her partner were overjoyed as they saw her as the epitome of all that was desirable in a house pet. (Sometimes I wonder about the young and their perception of reality) Much speculation ensued and orders were placed for potential offspring. We waited. Easter turned and there was little response until the early hours of the Easter Monday. She displayed all the signs of a cat in the progress of labour. We were not allowed to leave her alone. Youngest daughter and I sat out in the dark until gone three am despite the heavy dew and the inevitable damage to our lungs. Eventually she climbed into the rabbit hutch, which we had streamlined for her comfort and went to sleep. We crawled off to bed. No kittens were forthcoming.
Life resumed some sense of normality for two days until she suddenly walked off into the sunset and no more was seen of her for some four days. By this time I had been back to the local hospital for more tests and was not in the mood or physical condition to follow small felines on a creative kitten search. Luckily she came back the next evening and for this we were delighted. Youngest daughter had by this time returned to Preston and I immediately telephoned her with the good news.
Meanwhile in the depths of Hungary and just returned from her Milan trip eldest daughter was also fretting about the state of kittendom. I had to email reassurance of her return. The next day I awoke to find Angel at my bedroom window looking starved. (I am sure that she took an acting course to achieve this look as it is so professionally carried out.) Although I was very tired I got up and stayed within her reach for the next six hours. She had numerous food pouches and lots of concentrated dried food, together with a tin of red salmon I had saved for my lunch and some evaporated milk that I had purchased in case I needed to hand rear kittens. She spent much of the morning close to the hutch and we were again excited. The kittens had obviously been born elsewhere and it is unusual for a mother cat to move too far away from them. We surmised that they had been moved during the night into the hutch. As if to prove this she then started a tour of my room and the kitchen area of the house seeking another place for her brood. Eventually she took off over my neighbour’s wall and I went outside and peered into the rabbit hutch. There were no kittens.
It was some twenty minutes later that Angel re-appeared. She ate some more and then she had a dust bath before taking over a sunny spot for a long sleep. If ever a cat was happy she was definitely it. She ate yet again and sauntered off with out a care in the world. I had spent by this time, twelve hours on Angel watch and I felt exhausted. It is now the next day and she has not yet shown her face.
Friday 17 April 2009
They Came From Internet Space
And finally I got a round tuit, thus enabling myself to do a little writing, so as promised a reprise on the Invasion of the Mad Mollys.
A few weeks ago YouTube was invaded by a group of ‘Molly’s’. These appeared to be creatures of simplistic intelligence guided by two slightly more superior brained individuals. I am basing my premise on the fact that they did not make logical sense and were inclined to disrupt whilst there main leader was addicted to chimpanzee clips that they were frantically re-titling to prove the people they were attacking were in someway related to apes. Odd that, as all humans are related to apes and many apes are better behaved than man. I mused on their choice of name and thought perhaps they were linked to the children’s tales of “Milly Molly Mandy”. The age range suited but then I took a gargantuan step for mankind and all others who are naturally enamored with themselves and connected their insanity to the name Maguire.
For those who have managed to avoid the film (yes someone made a film about it) there are dubious historical references to a group of Irish catholic miners named the Molly Maguire’s. I am stating that the references are dubious as they are mainly documented by their adversaries and therefore open to an interpretation that may be far from truth.
However for the unenlightened the supposed group may have been named after a woman who ran an illegal ‘ale’ house, or a woman who was some form of martyr to their cause, or after a woman who helped them find their way to their meeting places or, and more aptly, as they were inclined to dress up as women to escape detection. I prefer to think of an anonymous group of Irish miners skulking through the night in dresses and bonnets as it has obviously more humorous connotations. Although from the behaviour of our very own group of Maguire’s they may have been in the illegal ale house prior to escaping Sunday sermon.
The reason for this invasion seems to have been an all out attempt to ridicule and berate those who were originally the innocent and bullied into submitting to the will of the minority ruling class in one rather small and badly run chat site. That they intimidated and threatened others into closing their accounts is palpably true but they do not seem to have honored their side of some supposed bargain in that there still exists a MollyMop (probably waiting to clean the blood of the floor after the victims have thoroughly demised.)
Other people with no reason whatsoever to be involved also took a delight in harassing those that they had a grudge against. One particularly nasty creature with an ego large enough to sink the titanic flaunted a slightly sad ability in Italian as she attempted to tell all and sundry how superior her intelligence was. I was not present for the entirety of the onslaught as I do have ongoing health problems but from the swathe of devastation I saw in the wake of their passing I am deeply saddened that these people consider themselves a) psychic, b) healers, c) empathic or d) spiritual.
A few weeks ago YouTube was invaded by a group of ‘Molly’s’. These appeared to be creatures of simplistic intelligence guided by two slightly more superior brained individuals. I am basing my premise on the fact that they did not make logical sense and were inclined to disrupt whilst there main leader was addicted to chimpanzee clips that they were frantically re-titling to prove the people they were attacking were in someway related to apes. Odd that, as all humans are related to apes and many apes are better behaved than man. I mused on their choice of name and thought perhaps they were linked to the children’s tales of “Milly Molly Mandy”. The age range suited but then I took a gargantuan step for mankind and all others who are naturally enamored with themselves and connected their insanity to the name Maguire.
For those who have managed to avoid the film (yes someone made a film about it) there are dubious historical references to a group of Irish catholic miners named the Molly Maguire’s. I am stating that the references are dubious as they are mainly documented by their adversaries and therefore open to an interpretation that may be far from truth.
However for the unenlightened the supposed group may have been named after a woman who ran an illegal ‘ale’ house, or a woman who was some form of martyr to their cause, or after a woman who helped them find their way to their meeting places or, and more aptly, as they were inclined to dress up as women to escape detection. I prefer to think of an anonymous group of Irish miners skulking through the night in dresses and bonnets as it has obviously more humorous connotations. Although from the behaviour of our very own group of Maguire’s they may have been in the illegal ale house prior to escaping Sunday sermon.
The reason for this invasion seems to have been an all out attempt to ridicule and berate those who were originally the innocent and bullied into submitting to the will of the minority ruling class in one rather small and badly run chat site. That they intimidated and threatened others into closing their accounts is palpably true but they do not seem to have honored their side of some supposed bargain in that there still exists a MollyMop (probably waiting to clean the blood of the floor after the victims have thoroughly demised.)
Other people with no reason whatsoever to be involved also took a delight in harassing those that they had a grudge against. One particularly nasty creature with an ego large enough to sink the titanic flaunted a slightly sad ability in Italian as she attempted to tell all and sundry how superior her intelligence was. I was not present for the entirety of the onslaught as I do have ongoing health problems but from the swathe of devastation I saw in the wake of their passing I am deeply saddened that these people consider themselves a) psychic, b) healers, c) empathic or d) spiritual.
Tuesday 7 April 2009
Star Dancer
I dance amongst the stars
My atoms spread vast
Upon the energies flow
Space into Space
Wild with the rhythm of the planets
I dance amongst the stars
Within the ever flowing dark of light
No vacuum cold touches
Joy that is my souls beat
Space into space
I dance amongst the stars
As above so below
Perception is all energies flow
And time a spiralling compression
Existing in all times and space
I move between
I dance amongst the stars
But eternity’s voice whispers
Raging above the music of the spheres
Its siren song
Vast silence mirror of my own
Finally I know thy face
Heart of my soul
I hear
24th May 2001 (C)
I wrote this poem for yet another friend of mine called David. Strangely there have been quite a few that have shaped my life in one way or another. The many David friend's have proved a meaningful contact and development point for me and without them I might not have questioned and strived to find some measure of enlightenment. They have also forced me to face my own value system and more than that my own shadow.
My atoms spread vast
Upon the energies flow
Space into Space
Wild with the rhythm of the planets
I dance amongst the stars
Within the ever flowing dark of light
No vacuum cold touches
Joy that is my souls beat
Space into space
I dance amongst the stars
As above so below
Perception is all energies flow
And time a spiralling compression
Existing in all times and space
I move between
I dance amongst the stars
But eternity’s voice whispers
Raging above the music of the spheres
Its siren song
Vast silence mirror of my own
Finally I know thy face
Heart of my soul
I hear
24th May 2001 (C)
I wrote this poem for yet another friend of mine called David. Strangely there have been quite a few that have shaped my life in one way or another. The many David friend's have proved a meaningful contact and development point for me and without them I might not have questioned and strived to find some measure of enlightenment. They have also forced me to face my own value system and more than that my own shadow.
Thursday 2 April 2009
Sick Note
To all those that have wondered where I was and to all those that were hopeful that I had gone for good, greetings.
A pulled back muscle has precluded my sitting for any length of time anywhere let alone at this console. I have seen a few odd bits of the recent interaction including a portion of the Mad Molly McGuire invasion on which I will write further perhaps later. I have also heard that they were ordered to come and cause disturbance and harassment by their leaders, one of whom is the infamous Dragon. (Do I hear rumblings of panzer tanks?)
I also saw an amusing Video that covers a Dragon’s tail from a different perspective to the one that she told to me and I will feature this in the future as well. My heartfelt thanks to Mandela Jo for bringing this back to my attention.
A pulled back muscle has precluded my sitting for any length of time anywhere let alone at this console. I have seen a few odd bits of the recent interaction including a portion of the Mad Molly McGuire invasion on which I will write further perhaps later. I have also heard that they were ordered to come and cause disturbance and harassment by their leaders, one of whom is the infamous Dragon. (Do I hear rumblings of panzer tanks?)
I also saw an amusing Video that covers a Dragon’s tail from a different perspective to the one that she told to me and I will feature this in the future as well. My heartfelt thanks to Mandela Jo for bringing this back to my attention.
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