Month: November 2017

scuba scuba doo… candlelit bath, flowery hat, essential oil pong… followed by submerging in several episodes of blue planet
glug-o-phone off, winter is for the watery wallow

wendy: Gorgeous image as alway mr b

rackham i reckon xx

Splash Attack! wild wooly wondrous waves out there today… lunchtime sunshine pedal
i got completely soaked, obvs, not too hard to guess which one done for me, still, even now, the delicious tang of sea salt on my lips

some creaky jazz funk noodlings to go with the elemental crescendo? yes please……

water! most convivial of elements… restless in flux, relationship and flow
meandersome, forever the parley, whether playful or brawl
heres me… theoretically preparing for a work skype meeting.. yet mostly pointless pondering the correct and complex elements of photo-ma-static compost composition!
wan winter sun just out of shot, framing device of earth, foreground of bone hard winter concrete, farground of aloof hermit-like lighthouse
just enough of a smidgin slither of sky and air… allowing water to roam!
tho, phew, luckily i can’t grok dates and meeting nary be now, yay

… in other astonishing news… midst the mid november drab… i’ve just descaled the kettle… a new skill, black belt!… think i’ve cracked this working from home malarkey
both kids, blooming cheek, had complained, offending kettle once profoundly dragon scaled… no longer… my green tea (‘supreme matcha green’) now tastes like its made from freshly boiled swimming pool water… after some kid has peed in it
tho to be fair thats how it usually tastes anyway

yonder merfolk bloke harkens to the briney depths

best boyband posturing, youth on lead scowl, whilst i embody tall

Auds: Is that the new album cover? 😉 x

album! what be these things of which thee speak?… how refreshingly 1980’s… no, as well you know, i’ve always been a ‘one hit blunder’… our 2017 tour shall comprise of turning on the christmas lights in ?? berkhamstead! x

boodha soup! butternut squash soup, buddha on the spring board, and err a sainsburys bag… all accompanied by cumbia music
think butternut squash is dull and tasteless? as a vegetarian ever shudder when the only grub on a sunday pub menu is Artisan Drizzled Butternut Gubbins with Risotto
well yes! but on a rainy bonfire eve morning crank up the accordion fuelled colombian rhythms and roast to your hearts content… chuck in chilli and garlic … and yes lots more random stuff
pumpkins! pah! pumpkins are for bumpkins…buddha soup for budapest! FTW!… and ooh ahh fireworks galore later! have a good un x

ah yes pictures of lunch! thats why we invented the internet!

a man and his marrow, what with frosts and fogs and frogs and whatknot
i have been forced to harvest my last oh so tender fruits, marrow and smattering of pomme d’oro
summer she be gawn! welcome king winter x

gourd-on is a moron… loved this song when i was a teenager… transpires tis john shuttleworth….

ha, fetching, in a frou frou sparkle kinda way! was once sherbaileys but nowadays is usually worn by me when i’m on the door at festies
its a delight when you can raid your daughters wardrobe for snazz natty clobber! x

Jess: Oh I miss you merry baggggsss!!!

coaxed down to the beach by the early morning slumber balm of sunshine, ha, an hour or so snaffled from the maul of work, always the sweeter
there to ponder a few flakes of flint, fallen from their bed in the chalk cliffs above, ocean smoothed, enthralled by the sheen, sea mirrored… old wisdom of stone… gneiss next to gnosis?
our anscestors would always have spent their winters sheltered somewhere near the sea… rich pickings… here to guzzle seaweed, pluck slobbery mussels off the rocks at low tide, else greedy eye the tantalise, scaley glitter of fish
omnivores, we are not much in the way of beasts of fang and claw? rather the boon of flint and fire, creatures of curiosity, ingenuity… humour, shared stories, each other that has ever buoyed us up
the restless jostle of waves on the beach… the lick and spit of flame gnawing at wood… aloft midst branches, the soothe gentle pummel of wind through leaves
with this eternal stir forth from stillness
world speaks through us