Monthly Archives: August 2017

My loose end .

When at a loose end,you find out about yourself in odd ways.What I mean is this,when we are at a lose end,and that might be for a few mins,or a few hours or maybe even a few days,what we chose to do when th that time is often revealing and informative.

I’m at a loose end now ,truth be told,not for hours,but maybe for the next hour an hour or so. Score I go to visit my son.Yes,I could read a book I suppose,listen to some music,play the piano,Hoover up the lounge,the list will go on and on,but I prefer to record it in my muse for this dayBy writing it ,seeing it on the screen,I like the process,the journey that it will take through the ether is fascinating to me.Yes,I understand that the sheer demands on all of us to read things on line can ,and probably are ,quite overwhelming ,if not impossible.However,that is a choice that we all have,darling not we.We darling not have to read,we don’t have to like,we don’t have to respond.

My point is that I like to write to remember that I’m alive ,the way I love to play music or do anyting creative,it fuels my inner person so to speak.So,my lose end is filled more form than not,by writing random thoughts that get launched out there in cyberspace.If people read it,excellent.F they think it has some value ,then great,but even if they don’t read my stuff,I’m still happy that nw,in this moment,at this time,I wrote that because if I dcould don’t everything would be bottled up as it were,cmsumed internally.

Like a lady very Garden that is tended and cultivated but never viewed by there,that,that me,is a waste a travesty of time and money.Far better it be shared and enjoyed by others.

So,my loose  end is almost done,thank you for indulging it.



My sisters used to work in a knitting factories,and they used to love Fridays because it was hard work and repetitive.When Fridays came around ,they would talk about turning the machines off early in the afternoon,and having the radio on and dancing.

I would soak up the joy on their faces,and think how they always made the best of their lives even though it can’t have been easy.So now,when it’s Friday,I often think of them turning their machines off in the afternoon,and having a dance.I never knew if they had a drink,maybe some Pop I suppose,or a cup of tea,very raced,no Proscecco for them eh.
     Well,that’s just my thought this morning.
  Happy Friday.

My Pace of Life.

It’s just after nine here ,I’m sitting in the lounge and as if to alert me to their existence,I hear the birds singing in the trees to the right of my back door.Maybe they were there for hours,I could not know,or maybe I just attended to them less,whatever the case,now I hear them.

Their tones this morning as the suns rays seal through the trees makes for me a pastoral scene.As the commuter traffic recedes into their workstations,I reflect that life has different paces for different peopleLike the setting of the metronome as its ticks like clockwork,setting our pace.

In the morning ,I’m a Largo-Lento kinda of man.Yes,I’m slow to wake from the night sleep,and in particular ,a broken nights sleep.As the morning progresses,I build up my pace to Andante,which means a walking pace.Now,I’ve been know t stay at Andante for a few hours ,or graduate to Allegretto or Moderator,tempos which are,in musical parlance medium pace,or second of third gear type .

Now,after breakfast,it’s Hobson choice,if I get out for a run,then I’m Allegro meaning lively,then if I’m feeling very energetic I will move up to the -for me,at least-turbo gears,which makes me feel rather good.Now.obviusly ,I can’t keep up my Presto,or Vivace speeds up,but I like the feeling of these paces .

Now,often people say hat they want a more leisurely pace of life,which,of course,is very understandable as many folks work extremely long hours with very little respite.However,as their are so many different tempo settings in music,there are also many different pace settings for life.We know that living our life at Presto pace isn’t a good thing,but we also know that we can’t forever be at Largo or Lento,that IRS good for us to enjoy the feeling of starting off the day sometimes at say Allegretto rather than that lethargic Lento until mid morning when we finally employ a little bit of accelerando ,moving through our gears so to speak and capturing a little bait of Allegro con brio (Lively with vigour) in our lives.So,whatever we do,we learn much from a variable pace .

So,today,I would like to set my metronome four or five times ,according to how I want to live each part of my day.By having the Italian terms as guide lines ,I find it helps me with the various paces that I find I have in my day.

    So,if you’ve found this personal take on my “Pace of Life” interesting ,look out for other quirky takes on life from my standpoint .Thank you.

For the good of our teenagers.

As the month of August moves forward to its climax,certain events define it in ways that ,like the seasons,speak to me year after year.Children are seen out with their parents getting organised for the new term,and those who through the passage of time,have reached their coming of educational age,so the speak.Having attended all the mandatory classes ,they arrived at their GCSE years,those turbulent multi discipline subjects,and now await their results on Thursday.

Why,whatever they felt they did,the dye is now well and truly cast,and their results will be issued for their perusal n Thursday morning.As a parent of two grown men,I do remember those GCSE results days vividly,and they were up there with the most stressful times of life.Yes,they came and went,and my sons got their results with their cohort in their local comprehensive school.

Nowadays,the sheer breathe of subjects covered is,to me at least,quite staggering from when I did my 5 O. Levels in my Cornish school.Now,it seems like a Rugby score for our youngsters as they grapple their way through three sciences,Maths and English and at least two humanities subjects to boot.If we to think about ding these subjects ourselves today,I reckon that we might get pretty stressed in oh so many ways.

My thoughts are that exams nowadays are often preparation for more exams,and that is quite a thought.From a family of 9,I was the first and only member of my siblings to,as it was affectionately called:”Stay on at school”.

Now,with the mandated age of compulsory schooling at 18,there is a different comprehension of what school should,and must be.Yes,there are pupils who don’t seem to feel the pressure at all in their school years,but they are by far ,in the minority.As the focus is now on paying for higher education in the form of student loans,and with Universities charging thousands of pounds in tuition fees,the pressures are now on many pupils to justify attending our Red bricks and colleges following their 18th birthday.

Many of those who will receive their results on Thursday will be relieved of the burden of eleven subjects ,and will now be able to create ncentrate on just three,or,in the exceptional cases,four.As their choices in many ways,are signposts to various careers in the future,those choices can be daunting.If ,I suppose,they had a crystal ball and could see how their life might turn out,then it would be so much easier,but,alas,we don’t.Many face the decision with the backup of good parents and careers who they know will support them no matter what the outcome of Thursday.However,many don’t have that support,and face the uphill struggle of trying to navigate their future but without a compass to point them due North,

If I had my time as a parent again,there would be things that I would have done differently,but maybe not in my view of their Education because that side of it seemed to work out good.Now,that doesn’t mean I can take all the credit,because native intelligence,good school teachers,and the like are primary drivers,so I can’t take all of the credit by any means.However,I look back on my conversations with my sons,and their have been countless ones,they knew that I expected them to achieve at school.Yes,at times,they made mistakes,but all of us do that.Just like when you sail,you have to tack at times to catch the prevailing winds,so to with young people,you have to be prepared to change direction when the need arises.That ability to bend ,although extremely hard is,nonetheless,vital with young minds.

As we were all young once,that fact being an eternal truth as it were,so to,we have to understand that being a teenager isn’t a easy gig.Why,after over almost 40 years of teaching,I have never met a teenager who is completely without stress,anxiety,worry or insecurity,they just don’t exist.However,being teenagers is a part of the journey of life,and like any journey,there are good bits,not so good bits,and truly bad bits.However,it is ,as we all really know,a process.We somehow made it out of our teenage years to live our lives as best we can.Some did better than others,but ,on the whole,we made it to the self service checkout that is our lives,didn’t we?

It might surprise you,but I believe in young people,in their ability to be sensible and honest,and essentially good.Im not going to apologise for that statement,as I feel too many young get a bad press.As their results become self evident on Thursday,I believe in them,I believe that one day when they reach maturity,that they will be good members of our society,I just have that faith in them.

So,take heart,you mums and Dads,for Thursday will come and go,but your special gift that daughter or son that you gave birth too will make you proud ,will do things that you couldn’t quite do because of stuff,and you will be happy that they did those things,and the gran and grandads will be proud,the aunties and uncles will send their best wishes and life will be a time to savour.

Then,your charges,will,just like you,have the pleasure,one day,of filling in their self assessment tax form.!!!.
Happy days,thank you for your attention to my muse tonight.

All aboard the musical boat

Music feeds our heart from the start,

Music plays its part and ignites all our vital parts.

When words confuse,deaden us,music has a lustre ,

It never marginalises,never turns us away .

Now,in this hour,lets turn the Baird box off,

Now,in this hour,water your record flowers.

Let the sounds of your Youth touch your soul again,

Come on,do I,turn it off,and dance with the “Fishy on a dishy”

If you do that,your musical boat will come into Harbour .

Our Dolphins return!

From the distant ocean,between Port Isaac and Port Quinn,legend has it that a sad mermaid occupied a sea cave along that stretch of coastline.For eons of time,she had entertained porpoises in her retreat on the North Cornish coast .With her tears of salt water,she sulked in her lair with no companions to soothe her depression.We might wonder why she lost her dolphins,wether they swam off to more temperate climes,or was there another more sinister reason.

Mermaids don’t drop anchor ,or sail into Port,but they need,nay ,have to feel wanted and admired.When her dolphins were there,they adored her,brought gives a plenty from the basin of plenty,and ,occasionally,they brought their prize possessions s,Pearls.It was to this conclusion that our mermaid had come to,that their pearls had been ransacked,and they had swam to retrieve them.These dolphins were loved in their sea life community,and they wouldn’t have left their spawning grounds as their survival depended on the perpetuation of their species.With these thoughts to grapple with,it was no surprise that she had become forlorn,dejected,and very black of mood.

There wasn’t an easy way to keep dolphins from swimming off,as their movement,intelligence,and agility,allowed them to cover huge distances in very shorts spaces of times.This painful conclusion,this inertia,this loss of company would test our Mermaid,and she would have to find the strength from within herself to continue to live out her life on the coast.If she followed them,then she might be prey to the sharks and whales that might patrol the open sea,leaves no her defenceless to their attacks.She knew that the dolphins acted as mediators,they were respected through the whole of Poseidon,and as lng as they were swimming in those waters ,she would be safe.She knew that they might be back,but the not know no when was extremely stressful to her.

She had given many of the Dolphins names over the years by way of identification,thus allowing a free flow of communication to exist between them.Those Cornish folk knew full well of our Mermaid and her Dolphins,and they told of this legend to their children in the hope that they would pass on the legend to their offspring as a living legend almost.

Because Pearls in any society are a source of great value,we have to conclude that the return of the dolphins with “The Pearl was of inestimable price””heralded immense celebration to our Mermaid.Such was the noise arising from thenDophins and the joy of our mermaid ,it can be concluded as such.

As legends go,there has to be a lesson that is then told,and it can be told to us all :When the Dolphins arrived back,it wasn’t the value that f their cargo in the form of the Pearl f great price,but rather the value of their presence to the Mermaid that would sustain her ,and so we tell the story that a life without companionship is no life,and the Cornish motto has always,”One from r all,all for one”

Thank you.

Monday mid-day.

It almost mid-day,its half way,it’s Monday,

Stating the obvious ,putting down a marker.

“Tell me why,I don’t like Mondays”,

Sayeth the Geldoff,or Sir to you,or you’ll get trapped in his trap.

Sit down,grab a sandwich,talk about your weekend,your highs your lows,

Monday Mid-day is upon us and there you go.

Nature’s glory

As the birds sings in my garden,I wonder if they would ever stop,or do they just sing less,or softer ,or in a shift system.It seems a juvenile question to ask,s I am a 59 man ,and,of course,I ask it in the rhetorical sense,but it’s salient to me.Right now,there are 4distincts sounds in a harmony to me,or,to be exact,in a string quartet form.Giving musical terms to there sounds might appear a little grand,but it’s the way that I can appreciate their sheer grandeur.This musical spectacle wasn’t the same down in the estuary where I have been for the last week.There,there were birds galore,but their existness seemed to be part of a much larger ecosystem and one that I wasn’t truly familiar with.

Like music,bird songs soothes me,enabling me to tap into an emotional refreshment that other sounds don’t always offer.Their tones,their solos,duets,trios,and quartets fascinate me and always have.Its never a burden to wake up in the concert room with their acoustic and their imprint on our souls.Sometimes,I play the songs in my head ata much slower speed a number of times,yes,it’s a musical muse and no other,but it has the affect of regeneration,helping me to connect with my natural surroundings.

We all have stresses and strains,and some are beyond our control if you like.As I wrote that,I thought of all the young people awaiting their exam results that will descend upon them in the next couple of weeks.My pupils,many whom I’ve known  for a number of years,have their future academic life tied into those results,and I feel that it must be a tough time for them all.

Like so many of us now,we are all bombarded with electronic alerts and messages that the real time sounds of the birds,or the sound of the trees swaying in the wind,might appear old hat.However,these simple things in many ways,do have their restorative powers that we shouldn’t u derestimate.

Soaking  up nature is so important imho.

Home is…….

All the sounds and smells that you know,

All the reminders of things not done,

All the people who live on your street,

All the animals in your vicinity,

All the faces you know in the supermarket,

All the gardening that needs to be done,

All the lessons that you didn’t plan ,

All the dogs and cats that used to live here,

All the Rabitts and Guinea Pigs and fluffy visitors,

All your books on the shelfs that mark your life,

All the yesterdays and tomorrow’s.

That what home is,to me,at least.