I love collecting seashells
I have a sweet tooth
I love to shop
Buying books is my weakness
Traveling soothes my soul
Tell me something about you
from R's rue https://ift.tt/KfSkDcs
A Sleeping Dog
There is nothing more beautiful than the face of a sleeping dog
I only thought of this , this morning as I mooch around the cottage feeling a little flat.
All my best laid plans of late seem to have gone tits up and it’s easy to feel what’s the point sorting and planning and organising and booking when it seems that the phone doesn’t ring and invites are not bursting through the letterbox.
Then I look at the face of a sleeping dog
And all feels a bit better with the world.
Dogs sleep when their pack slows down and they feel safe
And I’m watching over my sleeping dogs
What a great job to have
from Going Gently https://ift.tt/0CZIRTp
Edge
The Salt Cellar on Derwent Edge
Yesterday... in need of a long walk, I travelled out of the city along the A57 until I came to the turn off to Strines. Soon Clint was parked up and I set off along the by-road, passing "The Strines Inn" and then up onto The Derwent Moors.
It was a mile long slog up to Derwent Edge with its various millstone outcrops. I met no one along the way until just before The Wheelstones I bumped into Paul, an ex-military man from Colchester. He told me that he was fifty seven years old and that his nickname was Shabba after Shabba Ranks - the reggae star. "I used to be a bit of a ladies man before I got married," he chortled.
Approaching The Wheelstones on Derwent Edge
In the British countryside, it is quite unusual to see Afro-Caribbean people out walking. It's the same with Asians. Articles have been written about this. However, Paul had travelled the world as a soldier so why should he be daunted about a long ramble? After all, this is the country he fought for.
My lovely walk lasted almost exactly four hours. It was territory I had explored before but I had not been up on Derwent Edge for perhaps ten years. "You took your bloody time!" snapped Clint as I lifted his tailgate.
Cakes of Bread on Derwent Edge
Back home, I made the evening meal and later snoozed on our Layzee-Boy sofa, completely forgetting that Mike and Danny were going to pick me up at 7.45 to take me to the Crookes Folk Club in the upstairs room of "The Princess Royal".
It was a great evening. Both Mike and Danny played songs. It was the first time I had heard Danny and I especially enjoyed the song he sang from West Virginia - about coal mining. Well done Danny! I have seen Mike many times and he was as brilliant as ever though I had never before heard him sing "Out On The Weekend" by Neil Young. Super rendition.
However, the star of the evening was undoubtedly Stanley Accrington from Oldham in Lancashire. Such an assured guitarist and a really funny guy. His mostly self-penned songs ranged from absurd ditties to heartfelt ballads. I loved his version of "The Dirty Blackleg Miner" - so bitter and a timely reminder that industrial action has always been a vital tool for working folk protecting their rights and their livelihoods. Stanley Accrington has been on the folk circuit for forty five years. I shook his hand and thanked him before we left. Here's a flavour of Stanley Accrington's creativity that I found on YouTube:-
from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/L8dMxXC
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