previously published on December 1st, 2007 “’T'was a dark and stormy night---” but we went as planned to dine at The Royal Standard of England, a 900-year-old pub as in my illustration. Above the festooned hops sitting in the rafters you may descry a skeleton drinker wearing a Roman soldier’s helmet and holding a pewter… Continue reading ‘T was a Dark and Stormy Night
Category: rambling
Interconnectedness
much mangled and restored over the years, originally published on March 27th, 2012 It’s increasingly difficult to write anything, I mean write coherently. It’s probably not the first sign of dementia, more likely that “When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the Universe.” (John Muir)… Continue reading Interconnectedness
Phoenix Rising
Desktop is dead. Long live the desktop! My last piece featured Dark Star, a dirge, an orchestral lament for a (mostly) well-loved computer. Like a plaintive child, I cried at the unfairness of it all. "I want to play with my keyboard!" Ha, doing so now. Gathering dust in a corner were the component parts… Continue reading Phoenix Rising
Yes Dear
retrieved from a post published elsewhere on October 20th, 2016 In my last I mentioned “a post in preparation, called ‘Just Words’, but it may take several days, or forever.” All very well but there is real life to be lived, can’t leave this hanging & festering like a debt with mounting interest due. “Just… Continue reading Yes Dear
Luck & Angelic Messengers
Written July 10th, 2008. Worth republishing for the conversations among readers. See the Comments section, below It rained continually yesterday, didn’t stop but went through varying intensities. It reached the point that everyone ignored the light drizzle. Before the day was over I was taking no notice of the moderate rain either. I was fixing… Continue reading Luck & Angelic Messengers
Me and the Little Rock Nine
Another post to republish, written in March 2013, and relating to my life in 1958, aware of a momentous event in American history Now that my 16th birthday’s out of the way—it’s become a family event, this year bigger than last—the most exciting thing going on in my life is Winter’s retreat and Spring’s approach:… Continue reading Me and the Little Rock Nine
Delicious, not Precious
Contemplating mortality is not about being prepared to die, it is about being prepared to live. And that is what I am doing now, more freely and more fully than I have since childhood. The cancer has not made life more precious – that would make it seem like something fragile to lock away in… Continue reading Delicious, not Precious
Back on the Briar Patch
Note to self on 12th March 2018: there is something seriously wrong with this post, but I'll fix it some day. Comment on 1st April 2026: I've no idea what, but have put in some missing graphics I never like to fight with a tar-baby. That's a game for losers, as Brer Rabbit discovers, when… Continue reading Back on the Briar Patch
Undoing
Drafted on 8th May 2017, edited for attempted clarity on 9th 2026 I've stayed uncomfortably silent lately, called it "not-doing". Not that I have been obedient to that adage from the Tao te Ching emblazoned above as an epigraph: "Practise not-doing, and everything will fall into place". What is it supposed to mean, anyway? My… Continue reading Undoing
Getting spruced up
This could describe me: While out walking I’ve formulated perfect phrases which I can’t remember when I get home. I’m not sure if the ineffable poetry of these phrases belongs totally to what they were (and which I forgot), or partly to what they weren’t. [from fragment 399 of The Book of Disquiet, by Fernando… Continue reading Getting spruced up
The printing-factory
I wonder why, out of the mass of all we forget, some inconsequential things stick in our minds. Perhaps they chime with our destiny, that elusive future no one can see till it arrives. And when it does, perhaps something from our rag-bag of memories may “ring a bell”, as if it had been foreshadowed.… Continue reading The printing-factory
The Sun-Dial Factory
I’ve written several times about the factory across from our bedroom and how the morning sun progressively reaches down from the tips of its roof. When you wake and look out, it gives you an idea of what time it is, taking the season into account. On many nights and days too, I see the… Continue reading The Sun-Dial Factory
Reader-Friendly
Seen rightly, the blog must be one of the great inventions for raising literature to a higher level. Apart from offering instant publication without middle-man intervention, it opens itself to instant feedback from readers. It can be edited ad libitum. Unlike a periodical, it has no obligation to publish at any set interval, or at all.… Continue reading Reader-Friendly
Bach, Blackbird and…
... trapped young seagulls (published May 2012, updated July 2026) I was driving to the supermarket in the rain. The CD player had come on, and was at no. 14 of Bach’s Goldberg Variations, by the pianist Glenn Gould. It was the 1981 re-recording as opposed to his debut album in 1955 playing the same… Continue reading Bach, Blackbird and…
Binding a joy
He who binds to himself a joy Doth the wingèd life destroy; But he who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity’s sunrise. This verse of William Blake is never far from me, internalised, imprinted upon my unconscious, and a work in progress. There is joy in being alive; breathing fresh air; having… Continue reading Binding a joy
Beginnings
My head says that the perfect wayfaring is to follow an ancient trail through the hills, where the eye can roam to horizons beyond where the feet can tread: a Himalaya or Grand Canyon of the soul. My feet know better. The other day, I set out on a banal errand, accompanying Karleen to town… Continue reading Beginnings
Me and the Kenyan Mau-Mau
I lie soaking up warmth. Around me, steam rises like incense. I marvel like a savage at this jar of Royal Jelly and Pure Honey Moisture-Rich Cream Bath. What attracts me is the glittery swirls, as if the gunk inside were gold-dust bound with egg-yolk. As the list of ingredients doesn’t mention gold, the sparkle… Continue reading Me and the Kenyan Mau-Mau
Sexual energy
Years ago, before the public library in this town was cunningly pruned and restocked to reflect the scientifically-determined reading taste of the residents, it contained some quirky books that made a rainy-day visit into an exciting adventure. In the foreign languages section I found a novel by Pierre Boulle. I was astonished to discover he… Continue reading Sexual energy
Something of the Night
To one who follows his nose as a general principle of life, especially to seek inspiration, it matters when and where the ideas come. Most of the pieces in this blog have been conceived under the sky, preferably walking. “Sit as little as possible; credit no thought not born in the open air and while… Continue reading Something of the Night
Elemental and Instinctual
In a fury of prophecy, I penned the rant below for a private site, Destiny Discussion, of which I am a member. I mention this by way of explanation for its tone, different from my normal blogging style. [Illustration: a fencepost, eroded by rot and weather.] “I have an obscure objection to all the layers… Continue reading Elemental and Instinctual
Let me just be who I am
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve chosen eccentricity as an alternative spiritual path. I was encouraged down this track by reading John Cowper Powys, who I consider to be the greatest novelist in English of the twentieth century, despite being hardly known. He was noted for obsessive fetishes, like baptising his walking sticks in rivers. I’d… Continue reading Let me just be who I am
Time Consumes: Art Distils
This is the original version restored on July 10th, 2026 (Compare with "Time is like a forest fire ..." as updated in 2017.) Ghetufool, nickname of my longest online friend, was a young Bengali starting to write stories in English, many of which I've republished here. He said my language was "getting tougher by the… Continue reading Time Consumes: Art Distils
Lure of the Ordinary
Thursday, October 25, 2007 An ordinary valley For some months now, I’ve been drawn to the ordinary. I can’t exactly explain why. Perhaps something has rubbed off from walking the streets in Babylon Town and in this narrow valley. I live not far from little river which sneaks behind factories, workshops and the common dwellings… Continue reading Lure of the Ordinary
Responsibility
The Simpsons is hard on religion. Poor Ned Flanders thinks it his Christian duty to persist in loving-kindness to Homer, who’s unfailingly rude and never returns things he’s borrowed. His verbal tics (“Okely-dokely!” Home Sweet-diddly Home!”) are the only evidence of his suppressed urge to go berserk against such an unlovable next-door neighbour. What about… Continue reading Responsibility
Ripening
Hayden reports here on translations from the Aramaic, where “unripeness” was rendered, supposedly, as “evil”. On Sunday morning the radio (BBC Radio 4) told the story, with interviews, of a woman who runs a retirement home for chickens. They’ve worked at laying eggs in battery or free-range farms, and their residual value is too low… Continue reading Ripening
Journal from St Michael’s Green
—A Magical Place copied from ian.mulder.clara.net, a website I set up in html before knowing about blogspot, wordpress etc journal 2002 Beaconsfield 5th October 2002 Magic is always available, to everyone. It is made manifest through repetition. First you have to be able to perceive something, a glimmer of something special, in something—whether an object, a place, an event… Continue reading Journal from St Michael’s Green