Jo Cox,an MP since the election last year, was shot and killed today by a middle aged man in Yorkshire.I think it is connected to the EU and the referendum.
Did we think it would get this bad?Can we do anything?I would say improve care for mental health.We all know it gets much less money than physical health in the UK.And all the madness of this referendum is not a good thing.Meanwhile I feel very sad that someone so full of promise has gone from our country and from the world
Please ring the doorbell before you kick the door.
Remember some people may be in the bathroom
I am really sorry you are so badly paid because, apart from anything, else you are nicer than most people I meet.And even if you are not you deserve a living wage.
My neighbours may have given you my number but they’ve not always told me.Nor asked me.
I can’t afford to keep repainting the door and please don’t break the window
I have a friend whose husband forbade her to wear dresses and pretty clothes.And other women have said,trousers are better because they are more practical; you can climb over walls,play games etc.
But the truth is that trousers are very difficult to wear unless you have a very slim body.If you don’t you have to search for long tunics.And trousers are not warmer either.I have been questioned about why I wear skirts though often I do wear jeans.It is women whop question me.And that in itself is interesting.And female hobbies like knitting where frowned upon by feminists for years.It’s like we all have to be men.
Skirts flatter the fatter!
It’s easier to wee out of doors in a skirt
Skirts are brighter or can be.I like that.
If you wear thick tights that is warmer in the winter.
Your behind is private in skirts.
If your trouser zip breaks you are in big trouble.It happened to me when I was giving a lecture.The students were either blind or very courteous.Nobody showed any sign and this was amazing because they were red trousers but my underwear was not red.That was a deterrent!
https://www.designweek.co.uk/issues/2-8-may-2016/freelance-state-of-mind-embracing-serrendipidy/
Is it our choice how we view an accident.I don’t mean a dangerous one but one like this where he knocks over the ink and realises he can use the result?I think it’s very freeing to look at such things in this way.
Of course,were I still feeding my husband it would be a good excuse for a burned Toad in the Hole! [We don’t eat real toads in the UK.It is a dish of sausages cooked in batter like we use for pancakes or Yorkshire puddings]We have pork or beef sausages or even turkey.
http://www.britannica.com/art/English-literature/The-Romantic-period
“The most notable feature of the poetry of the time is the new role of individual thought and personal feeling. Where the main trend of 18th-century poetics had been to praise the general, to see the poet as a spokesman of society addressing a cultivated and homogeneous audience and having as his end the conveyance of “truth,” the Romantics found the source of poetry in the particular, unique experience. Blake’s marginal comment on Sir Joshua Reynolds’s Discourses expresses the position with characteristic vehemence: “To Generalize is to be an Idiot. To Particularize is the alone Distinction of Merit.” The poet was seen as an individual distinguished from his fellows by the intensity of his perceptions, taking as his basic subject matter the workings of his own mind. Poetry was regarded as conveying its own truth; sincerity was the criterion by which it was to be judged.”
William Blake
https://www.bl.uk/romantics-and-victorians/articles/the-romantics
Keats was one of the best Romantic poets.He died at age 25 which is humbling.This poem is one many of us learned in school.
You can hear these read if you visit Poem Hunter by clicking on John Keats below.Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimmed their clammy cell.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
No sight is like the rising of sun When promises of dreams seem clear and still My heart,though sore,can fancy love has come Without hard times and exercise of will. No morning is without new dawn of hope When all our conflicts shall be put aside. Imagination is far flung in scope, Never noting dreams may fraughtly lie. No love is like my long lost love for you Once known,once felt,it settles in the heart. Yet I do believe love can be found anew But only when the lost love can depart. So bother me no more with reveried bliss. Go leave me with my life,though all’s amiss.
How my heart sings 