One of our salesmen went to negotiate a contract in the Baltics. He made a mistake over the price, but it couldn't be altered, because it was set in Estonia.
Personal Blogs
At school all the bigger boys picked on me. I begged and begged mum and dad to get me a bully-proof vest.
I've being reading in the New Scientist about the (rather romantically named) Opposite Birds. These evolved from dinosaurs at about the same time as the ancestors of modern birds and coexisted with them for millions of years. They had feathers and must have been good fliers.
Then came the mass extinction of 65 mya. Of all the dinosaurs only modern birds survived. You might have thought that being so similar the Opposite Birds would have lived on too. Mysteriously they didn't and it's quite hard to understand why.
Here's a rather nice reconstruction of an opposite bird. If you look closely you'll see it has teeth.
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Shanweiniao_cooperorum.jpg
In this sentence the last word is first.
Auntie Florence was so cold and distant. We kids nicknamed her "Ice Flo".
She was married to a giant of a man known as "Titan Nick".
How those two ever got together I just don't know.
My breath grew short. My eyes grew dim.
I'm not a natural in the gym.
For example, I couldn't solve this anagram
"No slam"
Then someone said it was a fish.
I loved my country bedroom window.
Wet trickling fingers in spring
Late summer's corn dust and the harvest haze
All the spiderwebs of autumn
And then in winter my fingers tracing the frost flowers.
It was complete.
A man and a woman:
Both in black.
Meet again after many years.
Under umbrellas:
By a grave.
They had parted not knowing
That time always has
The final word.
Omelette = Failed attempt at frying egg.
Scrambled egg = Failed omelette.
Her shirt was o the grass-green silk
Her mantle o the velvet fyne
At ilka tett of her horse's mane
Hang fifty siller bells and nine.
Thomas the Rhymer
A little while back I was given a crotal bell. I'd never really thought about it before , but there are two basic bell plans.
The first is the flared, open-ended bell.
This is the type seen in church towers, handbells in Victorian school playgrounds, Liberty bells, and so on. But there's another kind, quite familiar from jester's caps, Morris dancers' legs, and kittens' collars. These are smaller bells, with crimped ends. Where a flared bell has a clapper, such "crotal" bells just have a "pea", retained within the bell but free to rattle.
Millions of these were made in medieval Europe. At first they were cast it two parts, which were then soldered together, with the pea inside. To make them look more fancy a variety of simple decoration was added, which evolved over time.
As
technology advanced people saw that the bells could be cast in a single
piece, open-ended, then the pea introduced and the end crimped. However
to make them look and feel like "proper" bells the makers gave the bells
a little equatorial girdle where the soldered joint would have been in
the good old days. You can see this in the photo.
Decoration continued to change over the centuries, until about 1800, and these crotal bells are very easy to date from the stylistic features. Mine is from about the time of Shakespeare.
Why were so many crotal bells manufactured? Not of course because there were millions of jesters or Morris men. It was at least partly because where carts and horses moved about at night, in town or county, there was no lighting on vehicle or road. Bells gave audible warning of approach.
My bell isn't siller, like the one on the Queen of Elfland's horse. It's copper alloy. But it still rings with a silvery and magical sound.
All week I have to get up early and feed the small cats. At least on Sundays I get a lion.
Who reckoned that standing was good.
That stubborn old fool,
Just jumped on a stool.
And stood there. And stood there. And stood.
Finally plucked up courage to tell people I wanted to write humorous verse. Well, typical reaction. They said "You can't be serious!"
Not from doubt, but choice and fear.
In case existence is unknowable,
But hoping we can find it still, given space.
Our cold fingers touching in the vegetable terraces
Do not entirely reassure.
And seeing the joy of the seals around the island
Still doesn't solve the conundrum.
Not: Why do we exist? What is for?
Its purpose, or ours, were we given it?
If so, what before/set it in motion/donated it?
If so, how did the before exist?
No, we the troubled, on our wave-dashed lonely rock ask ourselves
And if we may so, ask you.
What is it, this existence? Is it the song of a bird perhaps?
Or the hurt and and love the shore feels for the sea?
"How to be a good teacher?", the young nun asked her Abbess.
The Abbess beamed: "Always help your pupils understand, but in a way they can understand."
Back to bay 6!
Sprung up, today, suddenly, with astonishing fragile beauty.
There's a point to existence
Little flowers saying
Happy Spring.
Yet another book in the long series about the Titanic. I experienced a sinking feeling.
My latest app lets you book someone to clean your house. It's called "Oover".
I read this tweet about a herd of wildebeest rampaging in Hyde Park. Turned out it was fake gnus.
She snuggled up to her Viking lover.
"Gosh", she whispered softly, "Jor so Vik!".
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A stamp collector told me he doesn't bother with Penny Reds. Apparently they're two a penny.
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