No more F-words!

But every ending is also a new beginning.

I'd like to start another blog - not written for others to read so not as carefully worded. It's really difficult for me to be unselfconscious but that's what I'll aim for so it won't be like doing my homework. I've really enjoyed learning to blog and am pleased with some of my entries.

I'm almost tempted to start a new blog called Y-words - or Why words? - inspired by this lovely Norah Jones Sesame Street appearance but then I'll be waking up with Y words buzzing around my head. And it would be another unnecesary limitation.
So my new blog will be called Bless her little Cotton Socks & will just be stuff that amuses and uplifts me. No agenda just a crazy patchwork of pictures, projects, poems ................ and I'll try to drop the really annoying alliterations.

Farewell Folks xxxxxxx

Full up

Too many F-words and an obsessive mentality sometimes get in the way of sleep - they keep floating to the surface of my consciousness like fermentation - the rubbish floating to the top. Words like 'Flotation'. What does that really mean?
'Fr' words are particularly distasteful, especially when followed by a flat 'a' (fractious), or a 'u' (frumpy), or both (fraudulent)
Fraught, fradgy, frantic, frail...............................(I thought that if I wrote down the rubbish 'f' words that don't interest me they might stop popping up - writing them down might pin 'em to the page.) 'Factory' is another one & 'Fat-Face', fallacy, fantasy, funnyface, fart, flatulence, flippant, fornication, frippery, fudge, fridge, fairy, fag, fig, figgery, fashion, fad, fast-food, foot, fool, flash, flake, forage, foreplay .......................... it's a bit like being sick; vomiting away the rubbish to allow the diestive system of my mind to work normally again. A sick mind? No, just one choked with F-words.
I'm feeling better already, though I've only touched the surface.
Praps the most indigestible F-word, that provoked my blog in the first place, 'fuck', needs to come up. Like a smelly burp.

Flight of fancy

I need to cut the ropes/pull up the stakes and fly up into the ether, head in the clouds, enjoying the view. Meditating on the beauty, wind in my hair, no ties - in my own balloon of fantasy and freedom. Observing and not taking part.

I've spent too long with my feet on the ground, Being Practical - Doing - Knitting - Home improvements - sharing down-to-earth, feet-on-the ground, functional activities.
Need time to dream, enjoy pottering in my imagination, looking at other people's thoughts, poems and pictures.
But before cutting the ropes I just want to tie up a few ends ....................

Fire Hydrants

I have a fascination for them - so much more dramatic than our metal plates with H written on. I love 'em.

Football !!!!

It's fanatical but would be false to ignore it. My nearest and dearest are passionate fans as are the owners of this bar we visited in Estergon, Hungary

FOX!!!

Visiting our youngest son recently it was thrilling to see a fox in their garden. I had only seen one at night in the car headlights or a fox's brush disappearing swiftly out of sight in the daylight. But here he was in the late afternoon wandering around the lawn, stopping to scratch himself, and not at all worried by his audience.







I only managed a couple of shots through the window as I was enjoying admiring him.



Imagine the thrill then of opening the curtains the next morning to see him resting within full view of the house! He has clearly made himself at home there. You can see the hole in the hedge behind him that he uses for access. He was behaving just like a pet dog would. Apparently quite relaxed and not expecting any danger.



After a leisurely rest he strolled back through the hole to carry on with his day.
Speaking to a neighbour later we learned that he visits the surrounding gardens regularly but choses only one of them as his 'dumping' ground (not theirs!)

However it does put paid to DS's plan to keep chickens for the time being - which is a shame since he and his Dad worked hard at creating a henhouse. It will no doubt come in handy when they move on, or when Mr Fox no longer makes his extraordinary appearances.

Meanwhile it's such a priviledge to see him at close quarters.

Folk

As the Yorkshire saying goes - there's nothing as funny as folk. Recently I came across a video on YouTube filmed inside a lift in a high rise city building. During the making of the film relationships grow between the tenants using the lift and the cameraman and there are moments of great poignancy both tragic & humorous. I was so glad that I took the 20-odd minutes to watch it through as it has stayed with me and is something to treasure here.
"Filmmaker Marc Isaacs sets himself up in a London tower block lift. The residents come to trust him and reveal the things that matter to them creating a humorous and moving portrait of a vertical community."

This and other short films can be found at Futureshorts