Morning Ramble

The remarkable activity that is blogging allows us to share the wonders of our wisdom with all those people out there, wherever they may be – wonders that they may have spent their whole lives not knowing they had missed.

For instance, just this morning I got into the shower with my spectacles on.
Oh, those first few moments of panic, when you think “have I gone blind?”– “is this the way the world ends?”
Like Lou Reed would say, “O, O, O, O, O, O, O, what a feeling!”

Now here we are at 7am. It’s February – the hottest month (except it’s not – that was December and January this season). Yes, the hottest month was two months.
Sweating on top of hot sheets in the gentle breezes of the quietly humming fan. I sweat and twitch, too well bred to exercise weakness of character by turning on the air-conditioner.

Besides, with the air-conditioner working, the windows would be closed, and who can sleep with the windows closed? – with the walls pressing in in the darkness – with the night taking on a threatening solidity, unknown ghosts of midnight invading and whispering and chuckling in the closed oppressive gloom – who could sleep in such darkness?

The galahs were disturbed all night last night – quarrelling sleepily in the trees. Even the birds are tired of Summer changes.
It’s the changing climate you know.

I might pop out soon for coffee and breakfast. Even in times of uncertainty there are cafes.
“O, O, O, O, O, O, O, what a feeling!”

Even Bo Derek Only Scored 10! (me waiting for coffee photographed by my Joy)

My Saturday Thoughts On Religion And Humanity

7-8; a.b.a.b.c.d.c.d

Springtime morning steeples ring,
The preacher smiles and makes the sign
Music plays and singers sing
White linen, candles, bread and wine.
Up the steps to speak up clear
– Speak so strong when he wants to sigh
They look, some listen, some hear
He speaks and prays and wonders why.

I can’t remember if I have posted this poem before, but I’m too lazy to check.

I have a degree in Theology. That doesn’t make me good, virtuous, or clever, but it does help me ask questions I feel the need to ask.

Sadly, I know by experience that most religious people don’t think or question. They simply accept the stories that should inform their questioning minds as being literal truth rather than aids to understanding our humanity.

We all need myths and legends and religion – Creation Myths, miracle stories, ethical practices, good living, hope and so on.
But if we use these good things to build a fantasy universe, we are robbing ourselves and our kids of our humanity and potential … so …think!

*Edit – I left a line out … if you liked it before, please read it again – just in case 🙂 

Hengist Dreams Of Alice

The Back Of The Paper (note the charmingly unintentional error)

Today’s scroodling exercise …

🎨 “Oh How They Laughed When Hengist Said, ‘Someday Alice Will Look At Our Bones’ “

Pigment marker pen and watercolour on paper (A4).

.

Dedicated to Prof Alice Roberts, my favourite anthropologist / historian / bone-person.

I wonder how those people of old would have felt if they’d known that centuries later people would look at them in wonder and long to know more of their lives.

Another True Story

The Compliment ….

She came up to me and she said –
“I’m not saying that you are completely insane, but you are more insane than anyone else I know”!

Thank you … I am reaching my goal!

‘The Aged Pastor Dreams He’s Free and Wandering In A Forest’
– coloured ink, pencil, and acrylic on a piece of unstretched canvas
– roughly 15 X 24 cm.

Springish Winter

It’s a beauteous sunny day in Nairne, in South Australia’s sunny Adelaide Hills.

Beauteous, but I’m not suggesting that it’s warm or anything approaching warm, however I have a jumper and am sitting wearing it with the house’s doors and windows open – Celebrating winter.

A cooling breeze, with “a taste of spring-time on its lips”, has come in playing with my aged whiskers.

Because I am a caring and sharing senior citizen, I am sharing beautiful strains of classical music with the neighbours 
(OK – it’s not “classical” per se, but rather Robert Plant [“Pictures At Eleven”]),
but “classical” sounds so much more sophisticated and fitting for an aged and sophisticated gent such as myself (and that album is a classic of its kind.)

Sounds of Spring in Winter

I wonder what the poor people are doing? 
… probably, like me, they are wondering how to pay both the Council Rates AND the electricity bill both due this month.

Meanwhile 
“Down at the station where the trains come in” 
… all is well, and time for a (low carb) sandwich and a cup of tea.

Ahhh – nice!

THEY BREED LIKE RABBITS.

“Hmmm” mused Rabbit, “Why aren’t we rabbits good at more things?”

“Well” Chair answered, “You rabbits are very good at breeding.”

“I was musing to myself, not to you” Rabbit snorted,
“Besides, you can’t give an opinion – you’re a chair. Your only purpose is to be sat upon.”

“That may be so” came the reply,
“But while people are sitting they think, and thinking is catching.
You rabbits should try it.”

“We think … we think” said Rabbit.

“You only think about sex. You are at it day and night … in fields, down holes – talk about ‘Don’t Litter Australia!” Chortled Chair.
“Breed, breed, breed … it’s all you lot do!”

“Well, smarty seat” sneered Rabbit,
“If we breed so much, why aren’t there more Rabbits? Why isn’t every living creature a Rabbit? Why isn’t the world chocker-block full of bunnies?”

“Ha” said the Chair,
“It’s because you are only good at breeding – you are absolute crap at economy.”

“Wot?”

“There are never enough resources to support all these litters of bunnies – It’s a battle to survive. Only the smartest and toughest rabbits, or the most coddled, survive. You should read Darwin” said Chair.

“I think you’re talking through your seat” replied Rabbit.

“It’s all true” laughed Chair,
“You bunnies are just a big bunch of miserable fuc….”

“Ooo, you are wickered!” Interupted Rabbit.