Saturday, 13 May 2017

Super Hillary?

They say not all heroes wear capes. Hmmm. Not all cape-wearers are heroes. It seems. Though salutations to whoever devised this costume for sheer bravado. 

Friday, 14 April 2017

The Ballad of the Goodly Fere

If you get a chance read this poem on Good Friday. It reminds us of who Christ was and what He did. Fere means 'companion' from old Saxon. 

Ballad of the Goodly Fere

By Ezra Pound 

Simon Zelotes speaketh it somewhile after the Crucifixion.



HA’ we lost the goodliest fere o’ all 

For the priests and the gallows tree? 

Aye lover he was of brawny men, 

O’ ships and the open sea. 


When they came wi’ a host to take Our Man 

His smile was good to see, 

“First let these go!” quo’ our Goodly Fere, 

“Or I’ll see ye damned,” says he. 


Aye he sent us out through the crossed high spears 

And the scorn of his laugh rang free, 

“Why took ye not me when I walked about 

Alone in the town?” says he. 


Oh we drank his “Hale” in the good red wine 

When we last made company. 

No capon priest was the Goodly Fere, 

But a man o’ men was he. 


I ha’ seen him drive a hundred men 

Wi’ a bundle o’ cords swung free, 

That they took the high and holy house 

For their pawn and treasury. 


They’ll no’ get him a’ in a book, I think, 

Though they write it cunningly; 

No mouse of the scrolls was the Goodly Fere 

But aye loved the open sea. 


If they think they ha’ snared our Goodly Fere 

They are fools to the last degree. 

“I’ll go to the feast,” quo’ our Goodly Fere, 

“Though I go to the gallows tree.” 


“Ye ha’ seen me heal the lame and blind, 

And wake the dead,” says he. 

“Ye shall see one thing to master all: 

’Tis how a brave man dies on the tree.” 


A son of God was the Goodly Fere 

That bade us his brothers be. 

I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men. 35

I have seen him upon the tree. 


He cried no cry when they drave the nails 

And the blood gushed hot and free. 

The hounds of the crimson sky gave tongue, 

But never a cry cried he. 


I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men 

On the hills o’ Galilee. 

They whined as he walked out calm between, 

Wi’ his eyes like the gray o’ the sea. 


Like the sea that brooks no voyaging, 

With the winds unleashed and free, 

Like the sea that he cowed at Genseret 

Wi’ twey words spoke suddently. 


A master of men was the Goodly Fere, 

A mate of the wind and sea. 

If they think they ha’ slain our Goodly Fere 

They are fools eternally. 


I ha’ seen him eat o’ the honey-comb 

Sin’ they nailed him to the tree. 


Wednesday, 5 April 2017

Me & My Future Proof £1 Coin

 Today somone crossed my palm with silver... actually Gypsy Rose Lee it was a £1 coin. But lo. It was a Manx one. And after October 2017 it will REMAIN legal tender!

So it's going in my Arkwright's money-belt for after the revolution/armageddon/Welsh independence/Boris's benevolent dictatorship. 

Yes. When the proverbial hits the fan and the Isle of Man is the only functioning society I'll be sitting pretty with my old school £1 coin. Who needs gold bullion?

Tru dat. 

Sunday, 1 January 2017

My Mum, Barbara Hurley

Well the last few days have been chaotic. It started yesterday (New Year's Eve) morning with a phone call from my sister Jayne, saying that mum had been rushed into hospital and she couldn't be sure but she was told it could be a stroke. We awaited more news, hoping for the best.

By 10.30 we were told it was a stroke and it was serious. We jumped in the car and headed for Cardiff. It was only what I can describe as weird seeing mum. She looked a lot better than I thought she would, she was conversing with ease. We talked about family history, the relatives in America, the news (the honours list etc.), and various other matters. She was joking too. Every now and then she'd say something a bit silly, but I assumed it was the drugs that were being pumped into her. Having said all that, the paralysis down her left hand side was almost total and obvious to see.

The hospital staff said the course she was on could disperse the clot that had caused her stroke, but we wouldn't know for 24 hours. There was also a danger the thinning of the blood could cause complications. Other relatives came and went throughout the day, before we arrived and after we left too.

We left feeling positive. Mum's response to questions on how she felt was "tickedyboo" and given her lucidity I certainly hoped for the best.

I phoned the hospital this morning at 10.30 - 24 hours after the first course of drugs were given - to be told there was no visible deterioration, which was good news as far as it went. We'd know more later in the day when a CT scan was given and they could let next of kin visitors to the ward know more as the results came back.

Then this afternoon I got a call off Jayne to say her boy Ross had been in to see his nan. The staff told him that the first course of drugs hadn't worked and that the next few days were crucial to see if mum pulls through or has some sort of relapse or follow-up seizure.

I started by saying the last few days had been chaotic. In fact it's only been two days. But with the emotions, the downs, ups and downs again, the to-ing and fro-ing, it's seemed like much longer.

Now we're waiting and praying for good news.