[blogfocus sunday] potpourri of musings

As the title suggests, this is a varied collection today.

1 It takes an immense effort for one in Dymphna's position to come out and post. I hope it's not too disrespectful to my departed parents to say that … well … perhaps it was close to time. Not so here and each May, Dymphna and the Baron must remember:

We, Shelagh’s faithful remnant, gathered by her burial place to talk about our memories of the funny, wicked person who was my daughter. Having forgotten to bring the Book of Common Prayer, devotions went unmentioned. Just as well... they have become a background hymn, played in a minor key, to the march of days that carry me further and further from the real, living, breathing and spirited girl who was my only daughter.

And then May 9th arrived as usual -- I never believe it will. The sun came up, the coffee was made and gratefully consumed, and I arose as though I had moved past a physical barrier and returned to the land of the living.

It is truly good to be back.

2 Now this is truly weird. Shani has either been seeing things or else … or else [drum roll] …

6.30 ish I was awoken yet again - exactly the same feeling of someone staring at me, really peeved and put out by my being there.

I gave up then with any pretence of sleep and decided it was something to do with the wind, life, planet, whatever.

We told the lady the next morning who was in charge of breakfast, and apparently there have been a number of "incidents" in the room - none like mine, but a picture developed by another client showed a mist (which when I took a similar picture I could see might have been a flash back from the glass of the picture frame).

A cleaner had seen a baby (this was no baby) and the room had been part of the private dwellings before the refurb.

3 Mutterings and Meanderings [oh why does she have to have such a long moniker?] is at her best when things get violently horsy:

I have been dropped on top of post and rail fencing, I have been concussed, I have slammed flat on my back on the road, winded and shocked, so that when I managed to stand up, I vomited. I could go on …

The air ambulance visits these parts at least once a year. Whenever I see its collecting box on a shop counter, I put my change in. I see it as investing in my future.

My friend was lucky today: she escaped with bruises and got back on the horse. You have to. It’s a bit like life.

4 Chicken Yoghurt brings us the warning just in time to get outta here quick:

Public pronouncements by the Home Secretary have, in the past, been harbinger of dark tidings. Who can forget his ‘let us be very slow to condemn our troops‘ plea on the eve of video being released of British troops beating Iraqi teenagers? Or the bleak warning that we must ‘modify some our own freedoms in the short term‘ just before the airline ‘bomb’ ‘plot’ was unmasked?

And so it is with real trepidation that we read these words. You may need some clean underwear to hand: "Home Secretary John Reid has called for human rights laws to be rewritten to protect people against terrorism."

5 Notsaussure is, thankfully, back with a most important point about Britain's oldest ally:

Our dear leader told us: "I decided we should stand shoulder to shoulder with our oldest ally. I did so out of belief."

I thought he must, if he meant anything, mean by this Portugal, and I’m pleased to have my recollection of O level history confirmed by ‘Guano’ that England signed a treaty with Portugal in 1473, I believe, 19 years before Columbus sailed the ocean blue.

Ever determined to seek further and better particulars, I asked a dipolomatic historian friend of mine whether Portugal’s neutrality in WW2 counted against her. Appararently not, since it wasn’t mutual defence treaty.

Someone (in a spirit of accuracy) should point out that a) we have never been at war with Portugal and b) we have several times been at war with the USA!!!

grrrrrrrr

6 The Russian Wolfhound isn't Russian at all, as you'll see from his unique defence of Tony's accession:

Ace of Base got to number one, we were all wearing Global Hypercolour T-shirts (remember, the ones that changed from luminous pink to luminous green as your body temperature increased) and the England football team was a real shambles (yes, even worse than now). Here's a documentary (about an hour, watch it tonight with a glass of wine) that reminds us of the bad old days. Under Blair, we never missed a World Cup. Under Major, and this man, we never made one.

7 OnethingIknow reflects on huckster preachers and the trouble they cause:

People with less ethical standards can and do take advantage of those who sincerely desire healing in their lives or in the lives of those they love.

My list of these modern day hucksters would include Pat Robertson, who loves to tell his TV viewers that there is someone out there in TV land with this or that specific illness or problem,’and that even as he squints his eyes in prayer, God is in the process of healing them. And then there’s Benny Hinn.

As you can see from the photos, if there is anyone out there with a worse haircut than mine,that person would be Benny Hinn.

8 Finally, to that master of the long post, Theo, whose pieces demand intense concentration and deliberation. Here he covers the imminent departure of Cherie. For those who feel there might be a slight Rightist bias on this blog, I invite you to send your Leftist pics and I'll work them into the Focus: