STONE ARTIFACTS

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Many years ago I came across this photograph of a prehistoric Egyptian flint knife. It fascinated me. Yes, the carved ivory handle was exquisite, but it was the finely knapped blade which really held my attention. It is like the ripples of the sand on a sea shore - each groove carefully knapped by "pressure flaking". This I have since learnt - I originally thought that you just struck the flint with another to get the shape. We tend to think of "Stone Age" man as primitive, but within the limits of what they had to work with they were more artistic than most modern humans.

Anyway, because of this picture, flint tools have always engaged me - I once spent 3 hours at a historical re-enactment event sitting in full Roman armour watching a craftsman turn a lump of flint into a beautiful arrowhead. An interesting website on the subject can be seen here (view with sound on to hear a prehistoric instrument played).
My daughter knows my love of stone artifacts and told her friend Helen about it - this very relevant as you will see if you visit Helen's blog. Helen and partner Glenn spend their working lives prospecting, mining and working Australian gemstones, minerals and fossils and exhibit at craft fairs in Oz and the USA each year.

This year Helen saw an exhibition of stone knives, thought of me and asked if I would like her to buy one for me.

The result is this beautiful knife, 24 cm long and crafted from Mookaite a silicified siltstone from Mooka Creek, about 100 miles inland from Carnarvon, Western Australia. It arrived back here in England via my son after his travels to Oz. Stone from Australia, made into a knife which was bought in America, taken back to Oz and then flown to England - much travelled!
So - after seeing that picture of the Egyptian knife all those years ago, I now have this wonderfully tactile artifact of my very own. The veins in the stone are lovely and the edge would easily draw blood. Thank you for thinking of me, Helen (and if you read this - what is the wood stem that the handle is made from, please?)

RALEIGH RECORD ACE RESURGAM!

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Well it took a while and some cash outlay, but the finished article is well worth it. My 60 year old (owned by me for 50) Raleigh Record Ace has now been fully restored, as you see here. It originally looked like this and then this as I began the work.
I painted it myself, but the transfers for the frame had to be specially made (and cost me £50!).
The bag is a replica of a 1950's item.

The chain-set is a 1950's Williams which I picked up in the "jumble-box" at a cycle museum in Cornwall, whilst on holiday (a bargain - £5)


















The rear wheel contains an original pattern Sturmey Archer 4 speed gear, reconditioned and then built into a wheel by a retired cycle shop owner (another £120 I'm afraid!)

I took it for its first ride across Romney Marsh today and it behaved like the perfect gentleman it is. It was interesting to get used to the hub gear after so many years of riding with a multi-gear derailleur, but all worked smoothly and I only walked one hill. (I even saw a pair of swans with their 8 cygnets).

It will get its first airing at a Veteran-Cycle Club meet at the end of September, when the "experts" will survey it with critical eyes to ensure that all is "in period" (no worries there).

Who's a happy bunny, then?

NEA'S BLOG - UPDATE

Friends of Nea - she is up and running again. (at least in blog form). New site is called "The Front Porch"

HENRY V

Saw in a newpaper article recently that they had taken the old 1944 film of Shakespeare's "Henry V" and painstakingly restored and recoloured it to its original quality. It is now going the rounds of British Cinemas, either "art house" or special "classic evenings". The latter occasion arrived at our local cinema yesterday so we (wife and I) went along.

Vast queues outside and in the multiplex had us confused - surely Shakespeare was not THAT popular in our provincial town? This was resolved once inside - the "Bourne Conspiracy" was also showing!

As it was, our "screen" only contained about 30 people - we sat at the back and looked over the grey and bald heads (we felt at home). However a group of 6 girls, about 17, came in and sat in front of us. They were in rapt attention, gazing adoringly at Larry Olivier and laughing in all the right places at the Shakespearian "jokes". It was lovely to see and I imagine it must be their subject in this year's sixth form. So it will not die with our generation and that's encouraging!

Although I have heard and read it so often, I still sat with a catch in my throat, with tears streaming down my cheeks as Olivier proclaimed the "St. Crispin's Day" speech.

A great evening. The re-mastering has produced a vibrancy of colour that has been missing for 50-odd years. Worth seeing again if it comes your way. A pity that Olivier's dedication is now missing - it was so appropriate to the time of the film (1944) - but times move on, I suppose.

For the Texans amongst you.

A man in Topeka, Kansas, decided to write a book about churches around the country. He started by flying to San Francisco, and started working east from there. Going to a very large church, he began taking photographs and making notes. He spotted a golden telephone on the vestibule wall, and was intrigued with a sign that read, "$10,000 per minute."

Seeking out the pastor, he asked about the phone and the sign. The pastor answered that the golden phone is, in fact, a direct line to Heaven, and if he pays the price, he can talk directly to God.

The man thanked the pastor and continued on his way. As he continued to visit churches in Seattle, Salt Lake City, Denver, Chicago, Milwaukee, and around the United States, he found more such phones, with the same sign, and the same explanation from each pastor.

Finally, the man arrived in the great state of Texas. Upon entering a church, behold: he saw the usual golden telephone. But THIS time, the sign read: "Calls: 25 cents"!? Fascinated, the man asked to speak with the pastor.

"Reverend, I have been in cities all across the country and in each church I have found this golden telephone, and have been told it is a direct line to Heaven, and that I could use it to talk to God.... But in 20 other churches, the cost was $10,000 per minute. Your sign says 25 cents per call.....Why is that?

The pastor, smiling benignly, replied: "Son, you're in Texas now! and it's a local call."

NEA (The Southern View)

Nea - if you see this - your blog site has been taken over by hordes of "spam"!

BLACK MARIGOLDS

A couple of weeks ago a chance mention in Lucy's blog about a flower called a "Nenuphar" opened up memories of only once before reading this word, in a poem that had a deep effect on me some 50 years ago. "Black Marigolds" - a free interpretation of the Chaurapanchasika, by E. Powys Mathers. It can be read in full here.

I first read the poem in a school library book when I was 17. I copied it out at that time and then, a couple of years later, whilst feeling bored in the army during office duties, I typed it all (and still have that ancient copy clunked out on an old Imperial typewriter on foolscap paper).

As a result of Lucy's blog I looked it up on the internet and found it was currently in print - so at last I have a copy of this most exquisite love lament in a "proper" book.

To end, I quote from Tony Harrison's introduction to the book:
"And the Black Marigolds of Edward Powys Mathers is a masterpiece that still affects me in the same way, even now, after almost 50 years. Perhaps even more with the "gala day" ever nearer. Even now!" (the italics will become evident on reading the work).

So thank you, Lucy, for re-awakening a long forgotten memory with such a satisfactory result.

NEW KID ON THE BLOCK

With second son and family away in Oz with his sister we are left holding one of the babies. These photos are of Toby, the Bassett Hound who has come to live with us for the duration. He seems completely unconcerned about his change of abode, (sorry, folks - he just ain't missing you one bit) jumping on my German Shepherd, Sabre in play (and being rebuffed when "top dog" has had enough). I have never seen a dog get down a plate of food so fast! He has already decided which chair is "his" (and we have covered it with a blanket - looking at his dew-laps you can see why!)

HOME AGAIN

Well, that was a nice break. Thank you for all your good wishes. We did everything mentioned in the last post and managed to dodge the rainy days (or visit interesting houses, or read and drink booze in the caravan!).

No, HHnB, we did not walk along to Trebarwith, but did the Rocky Valley walk and nearly lost the dog. He decided to go into the stream at the bridge (see link), but was then swept down into the narrow, steep cleft by the torrent (had a lot of rain). He ended up in a whirlpool area and could not get back because of the current and rock cliffs either side too steep for him to get out. He is getting on and his back hips are going (bit like the bloke he lives with) so he did not have a lot of purchase. Anyway, I was about to strip off and go in after him when he finally managed it. Tired, frightened, chastened and very bedraggled!

After that we decided we deserved a large cream tea!

TRY AGAIN!

Well - the last holiday was a bit of a disaster - so let's hope our up and coming one next week proves better!

Off with the caravan again. This time down to Wales where we will meet up with my Roman Group for a couple of days at the town of Caerleon. This is probably my favourite venue (after Hadrian's Wall of course). We shall be displaying in the original Roman Amphitheatre and it is quite a buzz, marching into that space, with perhaps 3,000 people sitting around the walls watching us, just as they did nearly 2,000 years ago. There is a feeling of history, time gone and a time warp which can send shivers down the spine.

It is also The Ermine Street Guard's 35th Anniversary so the Museum authorities are hosting a celebratory bash for us on the Saturday evening. All good stuff.

While all this is going on my wife intends to pop off and visit her Welsh relatives nearby. Time will not stand still for her, I guess, knowing how Welsh women can talk when they get together!

Job over, we move on to Cornwall/Devon for the rest of the holiday (lovely counties). Where we will stop at a small, farm site central for all our favourite places. (Tintagel, Bodmin Moor, Dartmoor and Exmoor) (Remember them, HHnB?) Eating cream teas (Devon teas to you Aussies, but with real, thick yellow clotted cream) in Boscastle and "Tiddy Oggies" overlooking the sea at Tintagel is definitely on the list.

This should have been our third 'van holiday away this year, but owing to previous circumstances one was cancelled and one aborted quarter-way. This time it had better be good!

GETTING BETTER!

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Well, I am (very) pleased to find that the medication works and I am feeling myself again (as they say - apparently it is quite legal as long as you don't frighten the horses). Sunday morning's weather was delightful and a gentle 12 mile cycle ride around the locality beckoned.

The Raleigh Record Ace is still undergoing restoration, but is coming along nicely, thank you. So it was the modern Dawes Horizon that was led from the stables. Rather in the mode of a Japanese car, this is efficient, easy to ride, well equipped and.... completely characterless! I bought it on early retirement and it is the first complete new bike I have ever had, previously buying a frame of choice and kitting it out to preference. (You will note the convenient holder for the coffee flask - an essential addition) .

So it was off down the path leading from the estate, at present framed by clouds of blackberry blossom and English wild roses

It is a pleasant start to a ride, going across the fields with views to the local church

Then off through the lanes until we reached the escarpment above Romney Marsh, which laybeneath me, blue and inviting in the sunshine

Through the little village of Bilsington, known for its obelisk, dedicated to a local 18th century landowner who died in a coaching accident

Then a glorious swoop down the hill leading to the levels of The Marsh
However "et in Arcadia ego" Badgers hit by cars seemingly increase. They are surprisingly big animals (larger than a fox) and can grow to a metre in length.

Although tempted, I did not want to overdo things just yet. So a gentle ride through the lanes brought me towards the little Marsh church of St. Rumwold - who must be one of the strangest and unbelievable saints in that pantheon of odd characters (see link).

It is a very pleasant spot for a coffee break, with a memorial seat set against its south facing wall. One can relax in the sun, overlooking the Marsh and the Royal Military Canal (the history of which is interesting reading on the link)

And so home up the escarpment, (no, I did not get off and walk!) resisting the temptations on the notice board outside "The Good Intent" on the way!.

SIR EDWARD ELGAR

(click image to enlarge and read text )

This is a note to register the 150th anniversary of the birth of Sir Edward Elgar one of England's greatest composers. He was also a keen cyclist, riding the renowned "Sunbeam" bicycles, although his preferred clothing must have been most uncomfortable on a hot day! He called all his cycles "Mr Phoebus".

T.E. Lawrence (of Arabia - aka, T.E. Shaw)) was a connoisseur of Elgar's music, as a letter from him to the composer amply illustrates. Many must be aware of his "Enigma Variations", but his "Cello Concerto" should be more widely known. It is a lament for the lost world of pre 1914, destroyed by the First World War.

(I am indebted to Bob Cordon-Champ's book "Sunbeam Bicycles and Motorcycles" for the image.)

RALEIGH RECORD ACE

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Since I at present need to be within easy reach of a loo (see previous post) I thought it a good time to refurbish my beloved 60 year old RALEIGH RECORD ACE.

It left the factory in 1947, I gave it a full recondition 30 years later in 1977, so now, yet another 30 years on is a good time for another go.

The picture shows the frame stripped down, paint rubbed down, odd rust spots rust proofed and primed with aluminium primer.

Over this weekend I intend to repaint it (black - of course, with gold lining). I have managed to obtain a set of authentic frame transfers. I also have on hand for it a replica 1950's saddle bag.

Although modern bikes (of which I have two) seem to all come with derailleur gears this one would have been originally equipped with the famed Sturmey Archer 4 speed hub gear. This is an opportunity to make it more authentic and I have found a vintage bike specialist who is making me up a wheel with such a hub gear.

I shall post a pic on completion of the project.

(Well - it's one way of getting a positive result from an enforced illness!)

CHANGE OF PLANS!

Einstein said "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans".

That would certainly apply to the holiday! I had a few symptoms before we left, but once away these became more virulent. Did manage to do some motoring around North Yorkshire for a few days, but then had to come home, missing out on the Roman job (the weather for which was apparently abominable, so thankful for small mercies).

After gruesome examinations I have been told I have contracted "Proctitis" - (No - I had never heard of it either, but if you want the gory details they are here.) It was probably a reaction to an injection I had a while ago to combat prostate cancer.

Anyway, the medication seems to be working and I am on the mend, but am told it will take about two months to fully resolve.

Motorcycling and cycling are out at present, but you certainly get to catch up on reading!

HOLIDAYS

Away for a couple of weeks for a holiday, so this site will have a rest.

Taking the caravan up to the North York Moors (Valonia's home country) on Thursday for a week or so then on to Northumberland and Hadrian's Wall area for a few days.

Here we will meet up with my Roman group at the Roman fort site of Birdoswald (Camboglanna - "crooked glen" to the Romans) where we are contracted to do two days of public displays.

Hope the weather improves by then or rusty armour is a definite hazard!

Have fun, people. Catch up with you-all later.

Valonia

Valonia's back folks - still on the "narrer boat" but blog title is now "The Green Man".
Go to:
http://nbthegreenman.blogspot.com/

Was getting worried that she had submerged!

ROMAN CAVALRY SHIELDS

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Have just finished making two Roman Cavalry Shields (copied from a design on Trajan's Column). These are about 1.2 metres high to give you an idea of scale. This is a special commission that The Ermine Street Guard was asked to do for English Heritage's Special Events Unit.

I started them at Easter and played around with them in my spare time. The shields are cut from heavy plywood and the designs painted on in matt colours (to replicate ancient paints). The edges are finished with leather. This is cut into strips and glued around. The edge is then drilled all round and the leather is stitched via these holes. The centre bosses have been spun from sheet brass (Romans used bronze). I made the four studs which hold each boss from English 2 pence pieces (which were made of copper until 1992 - so I tend to save the old ones!) I dish the coin, solder a spindle on the back so I can hold it in a lathe and then polish off one side as seen.

This is the best they will ever look as they will be used for battle re-enactments with Roman mounted cavalry and will soon be knocked around.

You can see our Roman cavalrymen, with such shields here (just click on the images you see to enlarge them.)

CYCLING

The Journal of the Veteran-Cycle Club is called "The Boneshaker". Its front cover for the Spring number sports a photograph suitable for such an austere publication:

However, this delightful picture appears inside the front cover - just to show we also ride (fairly) recent bikes as well:

(Perhaps this one should really be on Lee's "Curate after Dark"!)

I am pleased to see that she is a fellow Raleigh fan!

SPRING

THE TREES
The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.

Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too.
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.

Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

Philip Larkin was often perceived as being a bit of a miserable old curmudgeon. But this poem gives the lie to that, I think. It breathes Spring, regeneration and hope. I particularly like that last line (read it aloud, lingering on that last "sh" in each "afresh" ). It came to mind the other day when my grand-daughter and I were cycling through some local woods. Looking it up for this blog (I just had to write it out, rather than just giving a link address) has made me sit down to enjoy his complete works once again. They have been gathering dust on the bookshelf for some time.

BIRTH DATE TAGS

I have been tagged by Chief Biscuit (who has passed this on) to give the following that happened on my birth date (18th December):

THREE EVENTS
1. Abolition of Slavery in USA 1865
2. Death Penalty abolished in U.K. 1969
3. Abel Tasman is first European to land in New Zealand 1642 (especially for you, Chief !)

TWO FAMOUS BIRTHDAYS
1. Grimaldi (the clown) 1779
2. Francis Thompson (poet) 1859

ONE FAMOUS DEATH
1. Theodulf, Bishop of Orleans 821

ONE HOLIDAY
1. Roman Feast of Epona (Goddess of horses and fertility) during Saturnalia. (But I would choose that, wouldn't I?)

The idea is now to pass it on to 4 other nominees to have a go - and I nominate:
1. Nea
2. Judith
3. Lucy
4. Granny J.

(Wikipedia is a great help and it is good fun looking!)

J.R.R.TOLKIEN

Those fans of J.R.R.T. might be interested to go here

A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD

This photograph was taken in the churchyard of the tiny church of St Peter and St Paul, Bilsington which is on the escarpment leading down to Romney Marsh . This yew tree must be as old as the church (AD 1292). The reason it appealed to me was that Tennyson's "In Memoriam" came to mind as soon as I saw it.

ROMAN ARMY WINTER JOBS

In winter the Northern Roman Legions stopped campaigning and hunkered down in barracks. (Unless, of course, you were lead by a nutter of a general like Julius Caesar who upset the Gauls by unsportingly carrying on his conquest during the winter months!). However the legionaries were not allowed to relax in camp (idle hands mean devil's work) - this was a time for renovation of kit and building.

The Ermine Street Guard Roman re-enactment group carries on this tradition (hunkering down - not beating up Frenchmen!). We use the winter months to bring our kit up to date - mending and manufacturing (95% of all armour and equipment is made by Guard members themselves).My first personal job was to make a new dagger and scabbard, based on an original example found in Holland. Here is the finished article:
The scabbard (vagina - pronounced "wageena" – hard "g" in Latin) was constructed by pressing out the front plate over a former. Then the design was engraved on it using modern electrical tools (you can only take re-enactment so far!) The Romans then used vitreous enamels to fill the resulting engravings. We cheat and use Araldite glue mixed with the appropriate colour paints. When it cures it is indistinguishable from enamel. The back plate is then soldered on. The hangers are crafted from brass and then rivetted through.
The dagger (pugio – hard "g") blade is crafted from steel bar. The brass handgrips are then rivetted to each side. Under the rivets the Romans fixed cup shaped washers that are the very devil to make. They usually left these plain (see scabbard hangers) but they are crying out to be filled with enamels and sometimes were, hence those on my dagger are filled.

My next job was to make repairs to my armour (lorica segmentata). This wears in two ways.

Firstly, the Shoulder plates (on left in photo ) are connected to the girdle plates (on right)

by brass hooks. There is a lot of weight carried here and they tend to snap after a time

(broken ones are often found on Roman military sites, so we know they had the same problem).

This was a matter of crafting new hooks from brass, grinding off the old rivets and rivetting the new hooks into place. Since this is a fairly frequent job I made up half dozen spares whilst I was at it.


The other job is to replace the leather straps which hold the armour plates together as these wear or rot with sweat. My armour needed the large square piece of leather replaced (photo shows the new piece in situ). Again – a rivetting job.









So there we are – all hunky dory for the new season, when – if the sun shines – I should look something like this





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MARMITE - THE FACTS

Sorry to those of you who do not live in England or "down - under". I forgot that you may not know what this concoction is. So, especially for Nea, you can find out all the facts here. Its main ingredient is Brewer's yeast from the manufacture of beer (but non-alcoholic). The Guinness variety uses yeast from Guinness manufacture.

GUINNESS MARMITE

They say you either love Marmite or hate it. But for all you Marmite lovers out there they have just produced a trial run of Guinness flavoured. A "limited edition" only, just to see if it takes off. Sorry ex-pats, I think it will be confined to UK. But don't worry HHnB , Bro will be bringing a bottle with him to Oz!

MEDITATION ON A DOOR LATCH

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My favourite local cycling area, Romney Marsh, is littered with ancient mediaeval parish churches. Reflecting the social life and population rise and fall of these little marsh villages, they are a particular interest of mine. So much has changed. There are quite large churches where the village has all but disappeared. Why? Well, the low lying marshlands, in former times, were very unhealthy due to malaria (and you thought this was a tropical disease?) and the Black Death of 1350 AD completely ravaged these villages, decimating the populations.

This by way of an introduction to the church of St George at Ivychurch. A large church for a (now) small village (it is known as "The Cathedral of Romney Marsh), it is no longer used for general services, the village population being so small, but is lovingly preserved. The ancient floor tiles of the northern aisle have been heavily cracked or destroyed as a result of Oliver Cromwell's soldiers stabling their horses there during the English Civil War.

But it is the latch to the church door that I want us to examine. It is obviously very old - it could even be as old as the oak door, which is as old as the church (1360). How many times has this latch been lifted over the centuries? For the usual services, for the school which was held there in ancient times, in times of sadness (see The Black Death above!) and in times of joy (the church has chapels and corners dedicated to various saints, each of whom had a village society who each celebrated "their" saint with a feast day each year).

My late father-in-law was a master blacksmith and I worked for him for a number of years, so have an appreciation of iron work that is probably above the average. This latch would have been made by the local village smith - a man who would have been well-respected, as workers with the sacred iron had been since its original discovery. A general job - a latch for the new church door, but he worked at it carefully and decorated it proudly, according to the limits of his simple village craftsmanship. He must have touched his work and checked it out each time he entered the church (as I still do when I see wrought ironwork that I crafted over 40 years ago).

The iron would have been delivered to him as heavy "pigs", carried by pack horses (the Marsh roads being usually impassable to wagons) probably from the local Sussex iron mines. He would then have to heat a pig yellow-hot in the forge and chisel off a lump for his latch. This then would be re-heated, beaten, shaped and chisel-cut to form the latch length. Look carefully at the latch and you will be able to see that there are no machine or file marks on it - it has been shaped by hammer blows alone. See how he has fined it down ("drawing it" is the craftsman's term) so that it is thinner where it meets the spindle coming through from the outer door. Here it has been flattened by heat and hammer - it would have been easier to make this bit circular, but, pride in his work, he has lengthened out the tip to form a heart shape - a grace note.

Now turn your attention to the latch end. It could have been left plain and would have worked just as well. But here was a craftsman, proud of his standing in the village and of the work he would do for it and his church. He is a simple country fellow but wanted to give it his mark. Notice that these diagonals, dots and lines would not have been made with files, but, again, have been worked in the fire. The metal has been heated to red-hot and the decorations have been made with a hammer and chisel. You will know this because no metal has been removed from the latch. Where the chisel has struck downwards the metal has been pushed to either side, causing raised "cushioning".

A village craftsman, long forgotten. But allowed to live again for just a little while because of the work he has left behind. One of our forefathers, summed up beautifully in Edmund Blunden's poem.

THE DASH POEM

I found THIS very moving and thought that it should be shared. Makes you think!

(View with your sound on)

My daughter emailed it to me and I am grateful to Windblown Butterfly for letting me link to her blog from where it originally came.

PROBLEMS WITH NEW BLOGGER

I have recently switched to new Blogger (I wish I hadn't). Can anyone tell me why old friends who post comments are now listed as "anonymous"? Is this because they are not signed up to new blogger? (If so and you are one of these, please sign your contribution with your blog name, so I can visit your blog)

Also why do the links to favourites in "my profile" no longer link?

Also I have to put my password in twice before it recognises it.

Also the "remember me on this computer" does not work - although ticked.

Is this the usual case of "if it ain't broke, don't try to fix it"? Or "Improvement means deterioration"?

AT THE ORCHARD PAVILION

AT THE ORCHARD PAVILION
(Wang Shi Chih 321 – 379 AD)

This is the ninth year of Yung Ho (AD 353), kuei chou in the cycle. We met in the late spring at the Orchard pavilion in Shanyin to celebrate the water festival.

All the scholar friends are gathered and there is a goodly mixture of old and young. In the background lie high peaks and deep forests, while a clear gurgling brook catches the light to the right and to the left. We then arrange ourselves sitting on its bank, drinking in succession from the goblet as it floats down the stream. No music is provided, but with drinking and with song our hearts are gay and at ease. It is a clear spring day with mild, caressing breeze. The vast universe, throbbing with life, lies before us, entertaining the eye and pleasing the spirit and all the senses. It is perfect.

I often thought that the people of the past lived and felt exactly as we of today. Whenever I read their writings I felt this way and was seized with its pathos. It is a cool comfort to say that life and death are different phases of the same thing and that a long span of life or a short one does not matter. Alas! The people of the future will look on us as we look on those who have gone before us. Hence I have recorded here those present and what they said. Ages may pass and times change, but the human sentiments will be the same. I know that future readers who set their eyes on these words will be affected the same way.

Wang Shi Chih was a renowned Chinese calligraphist. The above thoughts he inscribed on a stele which became famous. So many people took rubbings of it that it became badly worn. He inscribed it anew, but could not catch the spontaneity of the original which is still the one preferred by scholars.

We are treated to a little cameo of a delightful, civilised picnic in China 1,700 years ago. His last two sentences are so true (and poignant). But I am sure he would never have foreseen that "future readers" would enjoy his thoughts via the Worldwide Web!

I am indebted to Lin Yutang for this translation (and thank you, Duchess, for the book I took it from!)

WARNING TO CHILDREN

Children, if you dare to think
Of the greatness, rareness, muchness
Fewness of this precious only
Endless world in which you say
You live, you think of things like this:
Blocks of slate enclosing dappled
Red and green, enclosing tawny
Yellow nets, enclosing white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where a neat brown paper parcel
Tempts you to untie the string.
In the parcel a small island,
On the island a large tree,
On the tree a husky fruit.
Strip the husk and pare the rind off:
In the kernel you will see
Blocks of slate enclosed by dappled
Red and green, enclosed by tawny
Yellow nets, enclosed by white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where the same brown paper parcel -
Children, leave the string alone!
For who dares undo the parcel
Finds himself at once inside it,
On the island, in the fruit,
Blocks of slate about his head,
Finds himself enclosed by dappled
Green and red, enclosed by yellow
Tawny nets, enclosed by black
And white acres of dominoes,
With the same brown paper parcel
Still untied upon his knee.
And, if he then should dare to think
Of the fewness, muchness, rareness,
Greatness of this endless only
Precious world in which he says
He lives - he then unties the string.

Robert Graves

I love this poem. It somehow has great meaning, but I find it impossible to tie it down.
One commentator likens it to " the poetic equivalent of one of Escher's paintings (if you're not familiar with Escher, take a look at http://www.worldofescher.com/gallery/), where the question is not so much what it *means* as what it *is*. Look through some of the Escher paintings, then go back and read the poem aloud, noting the loops and subtle variations, the way parts of it appear to contain and be contained by other parts, the way the sound and imagery weave themselves into the theme." (for these latter thoughts, thank you Martin )

Dear Bloggers All - A VERY HAPPY CHRISTMAS

Here is my favourite group singing my favourite traditional carol
Just for you!
With all my very best wishes for a Happy Christmas
and a peaceful and healthy New Year.


Steeleye Span - Gaudete

A DOG IS FOR LIFE, NOT JUST FOR CHRISTMAS

(click to enlarge)
This is a bit of an "off-the-cuff" whimsey.
I liked the picture, liked the subject, liked the quote
and like the author - so there - it's my blog
and I shall do what I like with it!

TREES

(Click to Enlarge)

HHnB has a posting about trees. This reminded me of an "Ent" I once saw many years ago (in Mote Park, HHnB)

They are quite shy and this one is no longer there - he looked very surprised as I photographed him and I guess he wandered away somewhere

BICYCLES

( Click to enlarge)

Life is not all motorcycling. Here is a picture of my favourite bicycle ( I have three).

This one has been with me in various guises since 1957, when I bought it whilst in the army, wanting something to ride. It was then 10 years old, a 1947 Raleigh Record Ace and belonged to the owner of a little back street bike shop in Canterbury who sold it to me for £10 (2 weeks army pay then!). In the 50 years I have owned it, it had one complete recondition in 1976 and that is how you see it now, 30 years later.

I was a club cyclist when younger (still a member of C.T.C. but ride solo now) and have ridden and owned many bicycles, but this old faithful has stayed with me because I have never found one so responsive - other bikes you need to pedal along, for some reason on this one I feel I need to pedal to keep up with it! It gets used regularly for cycle rides and for meets of the Veteran Cycle Club, where it is much admired (which is more than can be said for its rider!).

Motor Cycling is exhilarating ("detail is lost, but sensation is enhanced" as T. E. Lawrence remarked) - cycling is relaxing, good exercise and gives one the chance to see more, stop to examine things and meditate on it all whilst twiddling along.

All this is by way of an introduction so that my next posting will not come as too much of a surprise to those who know my lifelong love of motor cycles!

NOVEMBER 11th

Remembrance Day

(click above link for background with a difference)

IN FLANDERS FIELDS
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian Army

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

TOMMY

I went into a public 'ouse to get a pint o'beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, ``We serve no red-coats here.''
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:

O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' ``Tommy, go away'';
But it's ``Thank you, Mister Atkins,'' when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's ``Thank you, Mr. Atkins,'' when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music 'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' ``Tommy, wait outside'';
But it's ``Special train for Atkins'' when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's ``Special train for Atkins'' when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.

Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' ``Tommy how's yer soul?''
But it's ``Thin red line of 'eroes'' when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's ``Thin red line of 'eroes'' when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints:
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an ``Tommy, fall be'ind,''
But it's ``Please to walk in front, sir,'' when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's ``Please to walk in front, sir,'' when there's trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an'schools, an' fires an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' ``Chuck him out, the brute!''
But it's ``Saviour of 'is country,'' when the guns begin to shoot;
Yes it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
But Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool--you bet that Tommy sees!
Rudyard Kipling

Can I also recommend Kipling's short story "The Gardener" (the whole of which can be read at this site) which is appropriate to this time and is one of his greatest short stories - full of allusions and hidden meanings. (And, of course, he lost his only son at the battle of Loos in WW1)

This is dedicated to all those who died then and those still fighting, wounded and dying in Afghanistan and Iraq now. We will have our own opinions and politics on these matters. Servicemen and women do not have that luxury, but still get on with the job they are given to do, as they have always done.