You Raise Me Up

 I didn’t turn up for choir yesterday

It was a conscious decision !

I felt a little too brittle 

We meet weekly on zoom ( and have done for months)and sing in the confines of our own houses unheard by our fellow choristers but We are always buoyed up by lots of boxed smiles, Jamie ( our RAF faced choirmaster’s bouncy nature) and visits of Lyndi’s dog Charlie 

“ We can see your Charlie Lyndi!” 

Is often the joint call as her hairy mutt comes into view

And the whole rather artificial ( but supportive) meet is dovetailed by a robust and always emotional joint rendition of You Raise Me Up 

You Raise me up 

Is a true emotional romp 

It is a song that can make you cry when things are mundane 

When things are sticky, the whole piece can reduce you to mush...mush more mushy than wallpaper paste

And on many Tuesdays several of the on line choir can be seen getting rather emotional at the lyrics 

Yesterday

I would have weeped buckets.

So I stayed away....

Hey ho 

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Met

 Swimming 

In a sea

Of tulle

Ribbons

And bows

On the 

Steps 

Off to the Met

Eating canapés 

And admiring

Monets and Manets

In heaven 

Dreaming

Of the city

That never

Sleeps

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tears

 God 

wipe 

these tears

of pain

of anger

sadness

and disdain

We humans

have a compassion

deficit

and it shows

off to listen

to Brahms

and get

lost in 

a book

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Lockdown upon Lockdown

The supermarkets here in Wales are only selling “essential“ items at the moment.

Essential goods are not flowers and so Ive had to raid the last of the garden flowers in order to satisfy my need. 

I know its not a big gripe but I will find it hard without flowers

I had a phone call yesterday from TRACK & TRACE . 

A very nice and efficient lady informed me I had been tracked as a possible Covid at risk person and needed to isolate for the next ten days

I informed work immediately 

luckily I have no symptoms, and to be honest I feel that I have already had the virus but the rules are rules and I am locked down at home until the 6th of November.

An hour after I informed the village whats app group that I was isolating 

a bag of crisps, two scotch eggs, a packet of coconut macaroons and a large bunch of grapes had been left at the kitchen wall drop off point.

This morning another villager  left some dog food for me with no mention of being paid

But ten days locked down at home!

Lord!

I’ve dug out one of the jigsaws my sister gave me, and will start that today.

The pile of paperbacks at the foot of the new trendy couch await my reading too.

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Pipes

The picture shown above appeared in "Shadows and Light" this morning. It was taken in Golders Hill Park, London by the blog's owner, Steve Reed. Steve thought it was some kind of pipe joint until research indicated that it is in fact an artwork called "Gazebo" by Wendy Taylor.

Let us hope that when googling her name, Ms Taylor does not stumble across Steve's blog. It would be quite traumatic to discover that one's finest artistic achievement has been dismissed as a mere concrete pipe joint. 

Steve's photograph reminded me of a picture I took several days ago at Booth Farm on the Staffordshire/Derbyshire border. Two massive concrete sump pipes were just lying in a field. The farmer may have got his order wrong or maybe I am also being philistinic. 

Perhaps it is another art installation by Wendy Taylor. I could go back to Booth Farm and make the farmer an offer before having the pipe ends transported to our garden. I doubt that they would fit in my rucksack so I would need a great big lorry (American: truck) with a crane. If the sculpture is by Wendy Taylor, I wonder what she might have called it? 

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling...

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