What’s the Story in Dalamory

Having voice problems is not a good enough reason to delay the tax return. It is that time of year again. And it doesn't get any easier. Every year I seem to make some stupid mistake or other. Wonder if this time it will be any different? 

This has been a very strange summer: little or no voice and being separated from my work and my church. So this poem by WH Auden really speaks to me.

All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no o­ne exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citixen or the police;
We must love o­ne another or die.

Amen to that.

What to say in the aftermath of the Russian School Siege?  There are no words to encompass the wickedness of terrorists prepared to go to such inhuman lengths. And it seems there is no way to ensure it does not happen ever again.When I cry out to God in anguish over the cruelty and terror in our world, I o­nly receive o­ne answer. How do you think I feel?

It is brambling time again. The hedgerows are thick with fruit in various stages of ripening, so a walk with the dog turns into a foraging expedition.

Pity about the worms. However, the way to deal with them is to drown them. First pick your blackberries, then soak in a basin of cold water. The worms emerge rather quickly, then drown. To tell you the truth it is put me off a bit!

Sorry about the Russian adverts that appear when readers click o­n Menu items. I am still trying to work out how to fix this without having to delete everything and start again. Websites can be as difficult as cats and dogs.

It is o­nly by having an Eva Cassidly CD playing that enables me to hold my temper.

It's a long long time, from May to September…… so the song goes.

Especially true when there has been no summer to speak of.
An Indian summer is definitely needed.

Walking with the dog can be tranquil, funny or an endurance test depending o­n the weather and her mood. Today it was noisy. All of a sudden there was a high-pitched squealing; I turned round and there she was running back and forth from o­ne side of the track to the other. She had obviously unearthed some creature. Cannot decide what it was. Too loud for a mouse and not angry enough for a stoat.

Fortunately, whatever it was got away.

I find it sad to hear from sports commentators that success in the Olympic medals table depends largely o­n financial backing. Thus they were pleased that Britain has increased their place in the league from 36th to 10th.

Maybe it is just my age of course. I am not sure whether to shake my head or delight in the spectacle of the closing ceremonies degenerating into a celebration of unknown Greek pop stars singing unknown pop songs. Apart from Never o­n a Sunday of course. Mind you – it was typically Greek. o­ne of the delights of staying in that country. I wonder what Katie made of it.

Here is what a much maligned Christian Bishop says of his faith:

I define myself above all other things as a believer. I am indeed a passionate believer. God is the ultimate reality in my life. I live in a constant and almost mystical awareness of the divine presence. I sometimes think of myself as the o­ne who breathes the very air of God or, to borrow an image from the East, as o­ne who swims in the infinite depths of the sea of God. Like the psalmist of old, I have the sense of God's inescapableness. I am what I would call a God-intoxicated human being. Yet, when I seek to put my understanding of this God into human words, my certainty all but disappears. Human words always contract and diminish my God awareness. They never expand it.

That is why I want to read his book.

Following o­n from yesterday…….

So Macdonald's not o­nly tastes the same the world over (I won't even try to describe it) –
It sounds the same too.