There's a Yawning in the Dawning
Of another sunfilled day
Too much light for my liking
Please make it GO AWAY
We have blue skies up to Midnight
With Dawn barging in at 4.00
And the birds hollering their greetings
I can't take it any more
Sleeping in the Summer
Is a long forgotten thing
A few brief snatched hours
Then it all begins again
Light through the curtains
Noise inside my head
No-where to run and hide
The daylight kicks me out of bed
So I'm getting out my chainsaw
And a torch that's oh so bright
I'm gonna get those birdies
I'll give them yelling in my night
Hah see how they like it
When their night is suddenly gone
Yeah come on out you birdies
Hear my chainsaw sing its song
I'm revving up my chainsaw
And filling the night with sound
I'm shining round my power torch
And jumping up and down
Gawd is that the time already
No sleep for me tonight
Grrrr the birds are singing loudly
And the berludy sun is bright
The air's filled with feathered song
My efforts were in vain
So I don't think I'll bother
With torches and chainsaws again
I'll sleep with my ears all blocked
And paint my eyelids black
I'll suffer the endless daylight
And get through with just naps
I'm looking forward to the Winter
The dark mornings and the night
Hip hooray for the Winter
It's the season nature got right.
Tuesday 27 May 2008
Sunday 11 May 2008
An Ass
Gorgeous, gorgeous sunny day. Birds singing, oh and hark the first cuckoo and yes the shrill haunting cries of the Buzzard contrasting with the harsh cries of the crows. The gentle delicate colours of the wild flowers and the deer stomach and guts warming quietly in the sun . . . .WHAT . . . .rewind . . . eeeeeoooouuuuwwwww. Yes there it was a pile of deer entrails chucked just off the public path. Last week it was a deer foot. All perfectly legal . . .yup despite the fact that it is distressing not to say berludy unhygienic – it is actually legal. Although I will be having a chat with Sepa on Monday – our environment agency.
I phoned the police – my main concern being that I walk the paths near our home everyday for an hour or two . . . and I have never seen any warning that there is shooting. And I also know that all the paths are well used by locals and tourists.
I was told that under the new Scottish Right to Roam laws I have a perfect right to be there . . . and so do the people with the shooting rights and they don't have to put out warning signs. The guns, the deer stalkers use, can actually shoot a bullet up to six/seven MILES . . .this information from the police themselves and indeed from a policeman whom I know hunts. Deer stalkers are supposed to shoot into a back stop ie if you are shooting in the hills you shoot towards a hill where the bullet will stop if you miss your target . . . but you can't do that in a wood and if that bullet misses and strays how do you even know who, or what you have hit.
Now is it only me who can see the potential disaster lurking in the woods waiting to happen?
I pointed this out to the policeman . . . and he said 'well you needn't worry you would probably be spotted.' Now call me pernickety but that word PROBABLY is not entirely comforting – particularly as a couple of Winters ago HS and I, whilst out walking in exactly the same area I am writing about, had someone discharge a gun very close to us . . . the hunter had no idea we were there until AFTER he had fired the gun . . . We phoned the police. The man in question got his knuckles rapped by the police and told do it again and you will lose your licence . . . horse and stable door springs to mind. But every time our hunter goes out shooting he is at risk of discharging his firearm near a member of the public . . .whether it be in the forest, or out on the hills the problem is the same - you simply cannot see people until they are very close to you.
I was told by the police that the gun laws are very stringent . .
'Er but they still allow people with powerful guns to shoot in areas frequented by the public – with no warning to the public?'
'Yes.'
'Mmmmmm.'
I have been told by the police that if I hear shooting when I am out walking to call them (the police) immediately and they will come up and investigate . . . er yeah could be too late by then . . .but thanks . . .Think I'll just bolt this stable door and then trot off into the sunset on the stable's ex occupant . . . a berludy incompetent Ass. . . think I'll call him Law!
I phoned the police – my main concern being that I walk the paths near our home everyday for an hour or two . . . and I have never seen any warning that there is shooting. And I also know that all the paths are well used by locals and tourists.
I was told that under the new Scottish Right to Roam laws I have a perfect right to be there . . . and so do the people with the shooting rights and they don't have to put out warning signs. The guns, the deer stalkers use, can actually shoot a bullet up to six/seven MILES . . .this information from the police themselves and indeed from a policeman whom I know hunts. Deer stalkers are supposed to shoot into a back stop ie if you are shooting in the hills you shoot towards a hill where the bullet will stop if you miss your target . . . but you can't do that in a wood and if that bullet misses and strays how do you even know who, or what you have hit.
Now is it only me who can see the potential disaster lurking in the woods waiting to happen?
I pointed this out to the policeman . . . and he said 'well you needn't worry you would probably be spotted.' Now call me pernickety but that word PROBABLY is not entirely comforting – particularly as a couple of Winters ago HS and I, whilst out walking in exactly the same area I am writing about, had someone discharge a gun very close to us . . . the hunter had no idea we were there until AFTER he had fired the gun . . . We phoned the police. The man in question got his knuckles rapped by the police and told do it again and you will lose your licence . . . horse and stable door springs to mind. But every time our hunter goes out shooting he is at risk of discharging his firearm near a member of the public . . .whether it be in the forest, or out on the hills the problem is the same - you simply cannot see people until they are very close to you.
I was told by the police that the gun laws are very stringent . .
'Er but they still allow people with powerful guns to shoot in areas frequented by the public – with no warning to the public?'
'Yes.'
'Mmmmmm.'
I have been told by the police that if I hear shooting when I am out walking to call them (the police) immediately and they will come up and investigate . . . er yeah could be too late by then . . .but thanks . . .Think I'll just bolt this stable door and then trot off into the sunset on the stable's ex occupant . . . a berludy incompetent Ass. . . think I'll call him Law!
Thursday 1 May 2008
The Hormone
Said in the voice of Frankie Howard in Up Pompei – remember when he used to say 'The Prologue!' . . .sigh . . .showing my age I guess!
And so . . The Hormone. A little demon from within. A tiny little inhabitant in our bodies busily proving on a daily basis and throughout our lives that size doesn't matter when you are intent on wreaking havoc..
When we are young our hormones live in apparent dormant calm allowing us to get on with the tricky business of 'growing up'. Although I suspect the tricksy little hormones will be in there somewhere stirring up the terrible two's perhaps . . just practising for the turmoil that they will create later on. Then, just as we are heading into an all important time of our lives – exams – the whole of our future hanging the balance . . .POW . . . zippy little hormones nip in and turn our normal young lives into teenage hell. As if growing up isn't difficult enough nippy zippy hormones decide to bring horrible acute and overpowering awareness of the opposite (whispers) sex into the equation. And they (the opposite s-e-x) are suddenly the most important thing in our lives. Just when we should be thinking about Maths and English and History suddenly Chemistry and Biology become the most important thing on agenda and not the type that you will be examined on either – well not by the school anyway. Ah but not content with turning our lives upside down the hormones also cause our skin to erupt horribly, just at the time when we need to look our best., to be attractive to the opposite . . s*e*x. All hell breaks loose. We develop an unjustified (well mostly unjustified) hate for our long suffering parents, just when we need their support most. Our bodies change and sprout all over the place and our moods go up and down faster than a speed lift. And as if it wasn't enough with the hair and the new body odour and the spots and the turmoil us women get to have periods every month as well. Oh thank you oh higher one for that!
So somehow we stagger through the confusing teenage years, just another phase perhaps, but the hormones are awake now and they aren't going to let go. Oh no for us women every month is a roller coaster ride of emotions over which we have no control. We see-saw from happy and calm and liking ourselves for maybe one day of the month to out and out hatred of our bodies for the rest of it. Overnight we loathe everything about ourselves, we hate the way we look, dress, walk, talk, think, speak, breathe. Our bodies retain water and bloat up, we feel fat and revolting and as if to mock us we are hungry all the time and crave chocolate and just want to eat and eat and eat . . .which makes us bloat and hate ourselves all the more . . .arrgghh. And then the men in our lives don't understand why we are so snappy and vile. Well why the hell should they, we don't understand either and do they bring us the very chocolates we crave and don't want – of course not . . . .And then there is the pain and the mess of periods . . .warning to you men – don't cuddle us when we feel like this – a poke in the eye often offends . . .'but why aren't you cuddling us, don't you find us attractive any more Wailey Wailey. . . If I have to put up with this the least you could do is be supportive . . don't come near me, I know what you want . . . What do you mean you will love me however I look you're just being condescending I know I'm fat and ugly. . . But darling big is beautiful . . . MEN!!!! Honestly you just don't know what you want do you? Snarl! AND the house is a mess WAAAAAH.
So we lurch from month to month to year to year battling each mood change until maybe we find we are pregnant. If we are lucky that is, not everyone who wants to be can be. However the rollercoaster takes on new dips and turns, highs and lows. Morning sickness, bizarre cravings (cheese marmalade and onion toasties) and apathy and new moods we didn't know existed. Tiredness beyond belief, a bladder that develops a mind and size of its own, a body that is no longer yours. We also go through the blooming months and life is good and the backache and constant battle with gravity through to the torture of those last couple of weeks to childbirth and crashing hormones. Postnatal depression for some and a baby to cope with as well. Ghastly, unrepeatable, never again? Obviously not - because many of us do willingly go through it more than once and I, even after two children, confess I can't remember that much about being pregnant. The hormone again – it has mind block powers . . .sneaky little . . .what was I saying?
So we travel through life lurching around the minefield of hormones without a map – even Sat Nav can't help here and we grow older and maybe even wiser and more reasonable and then the menopause creeps in . . . good grief just when you thought you had got it all worked out. Hot flushes – save a fortune on the heating, mood swings, don't even TRY to keep up, black thoughts, feelings of doom – wake up on an indrawn breath of near panic and weight gain again . . . what is it with weight and hormones and bit by bit everything starts to wrinkle and fade and for those of us with daughters it all happens just as they are blooming into gorgeous young women . . .ptoooooey – how UNFAIR is that . . .And we still find young men attractive . . . .eeeeeeek.
Ah hah . . . but after years and years of being ruled by the little demon hormones . . . . . .I actually 'get it' now. The physical things I can ride out and the mental things I can grab hold of and contain . . . so you see you little bergers you don't rule supreme anymore . . .ho ho ho little hormones of mine. I know I still have a monthly cycle of sorts, but I 'get' it and it will no longer 'get' me. I WILL allow you your mind block tricks though so that when I look back over my life, which I know in the deep dark recesses of mind that I have lived in turmoil, I will see and remember a life that has been pretty berludy wonderful to date and I shall, every day, look forward to each rising sun . . . . . . . . . . once I have conquered the daily indrawn breath of panic that is!
And so . . The Hormone. A little demon from within. A tiny little inhabitant in our bodies busily proving on a daily basis and throughout our lives that size doesn't matter when you are intent on wreaking havoc..
When we are young our hormones live in apparent dormant calm allowing us to get on with the tricky business of 'growing up'. Although I suspect the tricksy little hormones will be in there somewhere stirring up the terrible two's perhaps . . just practising for the turmoil that they will create later on. Then, just as we are heading into an all important time of our lives – exams – the whole of our future hanging the balance . . .POW . . . zippy little hormones nip in and turn our normal young lives into teenage hell. As if growing up isn't difficult enough nippy zippy hormones decide to bring horrible acute and overpowering awareness of the opposite (whispers) sex into the equation. And they (the opposite s-e-x) are suddenly the most important thing in our lives. Just when we should be thinking about Maths and English and History suddenly Chemistry and Biology become the most important thing on agenda and not the type that you will be examined on either – well not by the school anyway. Ah but not content with turning our lives upside down the hormones also cause our skin to erupt horribly, just at the time when we need to look our best., to be attractive to the opposite . . s*e*x. All hell breaks loose. We develop an unjustified (well mostly unjustified) hate for our long suffering parents, just when we need their support most. Our bodies change and sprout all over the place and our moods go up and down faster than a speed lift. And as if it wasn't enough with the hair and the new body odour and the spots and the turmoil us women get to have periods every month as well. Oh thank you oh higher one for that!
So somehow we stagger through the confusing teenage years, just another phase perhaps, but the hormones are awake now and they aren't going to let go. Oh no for us women every month is a roller coaster ride of emotions over which we have no control. We see-saw from happy and calm and liking ourselves for maybe one day of the month to out and out hatred of our bodies for the rest of it. Overnight we loathe everything about ourselves, we hate the way we look, dress, walk, talk, think, speak, breathe. Our bodies retain water and bloat up, we feel fat and revolting and as if to mock us we are hungry all the time and crave chocolate and just want to eat and eat and eat . . .which makes us bloat and hate ourselves all the more . . .arrgghh. And then the men in our lives don't understand why we are so snappy and vile. Well why the hell should they, we don't understand either and do they bring us the very chocolates we crave and don't want – of course not . . . .And then there is the pain and the mess of periods . . .warning to you men – don't cuddle us when we feel like this – a poke in the eye often offends . . .'but why aren't you cuddling us, don't you find us attractive any more Wailey Wailey. . . If I have to put up with this the least you could do is be supportive . . don't come near me, I know what you want . . . What do you mean you will love me however I look you're just being condescending I know I'm fat and ugly. . . But darling big is beautiful . . . MEN!!!! Honestly you just don't know what you want do you? Snarl! AND the house is a mess WAAAAAH.
So we lurch from month to month to year to year battling each mood change until maybe we find we are pregnant. If we are lucky that is, not everyone who wants to be can be. However the rollercoaster takes on new dips and turns, highs and lows. Morning sickness, bizarre cravings (cheese marmalade and onion toasties) and apathy and new moods we didn't know existed. Tiredness beyond belief, a bladder that develops a mind and size of its own, a body that is no longer yours. We also go through the blooming months and life is good and the backache and constant battle with gravity through to the torture of those last couple of weeks to childbirth and crashing hormones. Postnatal depression for some and a baby to cope with as well. Ghastly, unrepeatable, never again? Obviously not - because many of us do willingly go through it more than once and I, even after two children, confess I can't remember that much about being pregnant. The hormone again – it has mind block powers . . .sneaky little . . .what was I saying?
So we travel through life lurching around the minefield of hormones without a map – even Sat Nav can't help here and we grow older and maybe even wiser and more reasonable and then the menopause creeps in . . . good grief just when you thought you had got it all worked out. Hot flushes – save a fortune on the heating, mood swings, don't even TRY to keep up, black thoughts, feelings of doom – wake up on an indrawn breath of near panic and weight gain again . . . what is it with weight and hormones and bit by bit everything starts to wrinkle and fade and for those of us with daughters it all happens just as they are blooming into gorgeous young women . . .ptoooooey – how UNFAIR is that . . .And we still find young men attractive . . . .eeeeeeek.
Ah hah . . . but after years and years of being ruled by the little demon hormones . . . . . .I actually 'get it' now. The physical things I can ride out and the mental things I can grab hold of and contain . . . so you see you little bergers you don't rule supreme anymore . . .ho ho ho little hormones of mine. I know I still have a monthly cycle of sorts, but I 'get' it and it will no longer 'get' me. I WILL allow you your mind block tricks though so that when I look back over my life, which I know in the deep dark recesses of mind that I have lived in turmoil, I will see and remember a life that has been pretty berludy wonderful to date and I shall, every day, look forward to each rising sun . . . . . . . . . . once I have conquered the daily indrawn breath of panic that is!
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