Is it? Isn’t it? It is

Taken in Oban this afternoon.

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The Real Japanese Knotweed

Oops! I got it wrong a few days ago. Here is a video link of the real culprit.

watch?v=xw1irzxDsXc&p=1E77798E361EAC3E&index=2&playnext=2

Looking it up online has made me realise what a lot of damage is being done in physical and economic terms. Wonder if the Himalayan Balsam will end up being the same?

The radio/photos video series explains that the government is considering introducing a predator.

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Afternoon tea

The week for Misty got better.

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Misty’s week

Here she is: Misty, aka little dog. It has been a busy week.

First of all there was Emma, the mobile beauty parlour for dogs. Misty likes Emma,  but not what she does. So the hang-dog look is to elicit sympathy.

No amount of persuading would produce anything resembling a smile.

In fact, she preferred to sit in splendid isolation surveying her world.

The next day, things were made worse – a trip to the vet to have a booster anti-rabies injection. Misty behaved impeccably, but the eyes said it all……

Told you it is fun having a canine friend.  

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The Enemy

They say that Japanese Knotweed is the next big enemy in the invasion of our hedgerows. It is disliked even more than the rhododendrons that have adapted so well to the weather in Argyll. Regular weedkilling used to take place but the authorities seem to have given up.

Yet it is so pretty. However, look at the way it is spreading along the road verges. Invasion indeed, and so far it seems to have no natural predator here in the UK.

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The Iona Community

George MacLeod once described Iona as a “thin place” where only a tissuepaper separates earth from heaven. It is indeed a spiritual place, as nearly everyone who has been there will testify. It is impossible to look at the beauty round about without considering the miracle of creation. Saint Columba settled there in 563CE and developed a monastery and a mission work that ventured forth into other parts of Scotland.

I first went there many years ago but did not actually stay on the island until I was a student around 1990. I was a Church of Scotland ordinand and at a student’s week we shared time and chores with ordinands from the Roman Catholic Church. An enlightening time. There was much laughter but also a great deal of sadness about the things that still separated us.

Later, I visited whilst on holiday, and in recent years I was Interim Moderator whilst the congregation of the local Church of Scotland were seeking a new Minister. Earlier on I had become an Associate of the Iona Community, as it had become clear that I shared many of the beliefs and convictions about social justice, peace and reconciliation.

This week I was lent a DVD about the Community and thereby renewed many happy memories. It contains material from the 1930s and 60s, as well as more up to date information about the ongoing work at Iona, Camus on Mull, Glasgow and the world. What interested most was the differences in expectations back in the 1960s and in 2000. (The year the DVD was finished.) But what really impressed me was some of the interviews where members shared their views of what the Community is all about.

The main thing that came across to me was that Institutions fail when they concentrate primarily on their own organisation and operational priorities. If an Institution is to succeed, particularly nowadays, it needs to be more concerned with interacting with the rest of society. For me, this is what sums up the spiritual attitude that is Iona.

In our local church we have re-started our discussion groups based on Living the Questions. (We are on Sections 15-21). Last night we were thinking about social justice and the example of the Old Testament prophets in being prepared to stand up to their corrupt governments and criticise where appropriate. It was a challenge to think about the meaning of this for each of us in everyday life. What do we stand up for? Where do we seek change? What does it mean to tackle poverty in a world where so many people die of hunger?

What was clear, is that we do what little we can to make a difference. When more and more people act together then real change is possible. But even more importantly is the challenge to raise political consciousness, ours and that of others. In our part of the world the top 1% (by wealth) of people, own 43% of the total wealth. Social Justice must include the premiss that the aim is to work for the common good rather than the individual good.

Our study group covers a lot of ground and in this post I have come a long way from Iona to the rest of the world. In the process I think I am learning how to stop feeling guilty about what I don’t or can’t do, and start being more aware, so that things are helped to change.

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BT Mumble

British Telecom are our suppliers for Broadband and phone services and today an offer came in with the mail for an improvement. It is for unlimited calls up to 60mins during the day, and it turns out that this works out £3.00 per quarter cheaper than we are currently paying. In addition, the first 3 months are free.

All well and good. The website didn’t have the same offer of the free months so it meant dealing with the dreaded queue waiting. For a start I obviously pressed a wrong button and ended up in a loop I couldn’t get out of. Keep patience and start again, I told myself. Eventually I got through to the suitable department only to be told there was a long queue and if I wanted, they would phone back within an hour.

All well and good again. Within ten minutes “Danielle” phoned back. But she talked so quickly I couldn’t get exactly what she was saying. Her accent was OK – southeast England I think. However, she mumbled the end of her words. Three times I asked her to “speak slowly please” and to give her her due she really did try. But the experience took far longer than necessary. She had to keep putting me on hold to check things and even the holding music (Handel) was mumbling.

My suspicion is that the operative was in a Call Centre where payment or bonuses depended on number of calls per hour (or something similar.)  She made things longer than they needed to be with me, simply because I couldn’t understand or catch what she was saying.

Oh dear! Is this another effect of growing up?

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Motivation

This is a photo that epitomises the best of having a dog and living in the countryside. The sunshine only serves to make it all better. We all know that taking exercise is good for us, but sometimes…….. well it is harder than at other times. Especially now that the tennis-playing days are over. I tried to like golf, but despite having a few lessons I never really got the hang of it.

Having an enthusiastic little dog is the best incentive there is. She starts looking hopefully before lunch. Then, if there are no signs that a walk is likely to happen soon, she takes herself off to the spare bed to be wait patiently. She rallies a bit if dusters and vacuum appear – that means a good game of playing squeaky ball in between the chores. Then, after lunch there is the heavy sigh while the adults have a snooze. After that, if no signs are evident, there is great sighing and definite sadness as she creeps away to be very, very sad.

But Oh the joy and excitement if the “signs” are there. (Changing trousers, shoes, locking the front door, and eventually reaching for the collar and lead………)  Then, it is as if she had never been for a walk before. Dancing around is a great feature, as is bumping – rather heavily – into the collar-holder’s legs. By this time, everyone is smiling and we set off for the adventure of the day.

Every walk is a great new experience: deciding whether to walk from the house or take the car, then smells that have changed or are new. There is always Mum and/or Dad to protect her from other dogs that are too big and bouncy – though it is usually only the regulars. There are strange rustling noises in the grass that need inspection, and mice to pounce on, never mind butterflies to chase…….  Oh what joy to be a little dog and her minders.

The photo is from one of our favourite walks. You have to look closely to see Misty, she is so well camouflaged being a brindle; she seems to blend in wherever she is.

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Country Wisdom

A piece of country wisdom that is very sound advice is this:

Live as if you were going to die tomorrow
Farm as if you were going to live forever

Not a bad way to live life. And good advice for a Sunday.

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Not another book review – Writing instead

Actually, this is sort of another book review, but as an excuse for some extensive quoting about writing fiction.  So first, let’s get the review bit out of the way. A friend lent me her copy of Knave of Spades, a memoir by Alan Titchmarsh. It is an elegant, charming and easy to read auto-biographical book covering aspects of his life from childhood to current days. It intrigued me to learn that the author had failed his 11-plus and left school at 15. I was further entranced by his journey via apprenticeship into education and the lofty world of Kew Gardens, followed in due course by writing and presenting on radio and television. An excellent easy read for anyone who likes finding out about people and what motivates them.

It’s what he says about Writing that amused me. And made me feel like getting back to the Creative Writing stage that winter heralds. He says:

Writing fiction is agony and ecstasy in equal measure, depending on how the day is going. I do not write groundbreaking literature. Neither am I of the deeply cerebral or highly esoteric school. I write what I hope are well-crafted stories that will take you out of yourself.

Just so …….. exactly what I would love to do, then he goes on to tell a wonderful story. He was attending the British Book Awards:

As prize-winning authors steppedup to collect their (awards), Jeffrey Archer leaned across to Jilly Cooper and whispered, “What wouldn’t we give for one of those?”. Jilly whispered back, “And what wouldn’t thy give for sales like ours?”

And I love the way he speaks about his potential readers:

It is the hope of every novelist that their work will be taken up and discovered to be “unputdownable”, wherever the reader may be. I do not care whether my novels are bought in hardback or paperback, taken out of the library or snapped up for 50p from a charity shop. They can be read on the bus or the train, in a book-lined study or on a lilo, by butcher, baker, computer-maker or housewife. They can be denounced as of little consequence and ignored by the classier literary supplements. It matters not. Provided that they can give the reader a day or two of escapism, and a fraction of the pleasure that they give me to write, I ask no more.

Brilliant. And after all, I do write the blog……….. and autumn is coming…..time to write!

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