All Done

Most of this morning was taken with inputting all the questionnaires online from yesterday. Now that it is done I am taking the rest of the day easy. The weather is lousy today and the lads are round watching the football. It is very noisy down in the lounge , and hence I am upstairs with earplugs on. It is tribalism down there and it is not pretty.

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Hello Marvin

It is all quiet on the western front as they use to say. Liverpool loving Colin and his son have gone back home and cousin is now fast asleep on the new leather settee. No more shouting at the telly if things go wrong or against your team's fortune.

I am upstairs catching up with emails, reading blogs and just relaxing. Beats being out in the dull and damp day outside. I knew that yesterday's glorious weather could not last.

In a way i wish i was somewhere else across the universe.  Perhaps my old and very old friend Gandalf could help,and please, do not bring that depressing robot with the brain the size of a planet, Marvin,the only robot in the universe that will make you want to slit your own throat, lol.

Lights In The Dark

I have been listening to the Hector Zazou CD Lights in The Dark , which collects some Irish carols, folk tunes and hymns and puts them in a modern setting. Here  is the second track on the CD. The track is Seven Joys Of The Virgin Mary.

 Enjoy for Easter and as Dave Allen, the Irish comedian once said , "May you God go with you".

If you have not heard of M.r Zazou he is worth checking out. This r=track is from the Sahara Blue CD.

Musicians such as John Cale have appeared on his albums, including this one with Bjork from the "Songs From The Cold Seas" CD.

Enjoy.

Extra Poem Of the Week

An extra poem for this weekend, and one about impermanence , from Philip Larkin

The Trees by Philip Larkin


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.