Minstrel

I have blogged about "Singing Together" and "Rhythm and Melody" before. It was a nationwide music education  project delivered via the good old BBC. In primary school classrooms up and down the land, children gathered to sing along to the radio. I still remember many of those songs and  one I have been thinking about recently is "The Minstrel Boy".

It was written in the early years of the nineteenth century by an Irish songwriter called Thomas Moore. It was first published in 1813 - featuring in Moore's "Irish Melodies" project. The roots of this song are probably much older.

It is a wistful and evocative song that speaks of  war, of bravery and of loss. It is a plea for liberty as much as anything and it comes as no surprise to learn that Moore visited America's southern states in 1806. In dreams I may sometimes see myself as that minstrel boy with my wild harp slung behind me.The song has been with me since 1963. Please listen:-

The Minstrel-Boy to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you'll find him;
His father's sword he has girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him.
"Land of song!" said the warrior-bard,
"Tho' all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"

The Minstrel fell!—but the foeman's chain
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said, "No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery
Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery!


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A Funny Thing Happened…….

 When I was a ward manager I used to keep a notebook in my office. 
In it I used to record stories gathered by staff and indeed patients about embarrassing things that ever happened to them.   
Nurses excel at telling such stories and I had some crackers written down in that book, a book that was lost after several house moves and changes in employment.

One of the best stories was shared by a friend called Ruth who moved from Spinal Injuries into Prison nursing in order to have a break from the stressors of working in the acute sector. This move always baffled me given the environment , so I wasn’t surprised when Ruth returned to nhs work a year or so after leaving. She told me this story of one of her last days at Doncaster Prison.

As a nurse, it was expected for her to be able to frisk a prisoner if she thought the need was there and it a fit of bravado one day, and in front of several prison officers she frisked a prisoner who was acting suspiciously in one of her clinics. 
She located something bulky in one of his trouser pockets and speaking like some sort of extra from Eastenders she demanded to know what the prisoner was secreting.
Finally, after a tense stand off, where she continued to grab at the obvious shank, he answered her demand of knowing what he was hiding and said quietly 
“ It’s my erection” 

I love that story. And subsequently trolled though my , oh-so-many-stories of embarrassing derring do. over  the past half hour 
I found this one from several years ago now from the blog archive
Enjoy

Gravitas

A rough looking type and his missus parked their car behind the cottage in order to check over the plot of land which is up for sale just up the lane
He half blocked old Trevor's driveway and returning home Trevor beeped his horn for the bloke to move.
" You can get a fucking bus through there!" the man snapped angrily and taking an instant dislike to him I stopped the dogs as I passed
He's an old man and he needs you to move your car!" I said carefully giving the man a very direct look and irritably he did as he was instructed, scowling at me as he did so
Only when I returned home did I realise what I was wearing this my plucked chicken hat…..





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Sunday

 Sunday morning

Smile sunshine

It’s a blessing 

To be alive



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