TIME FLIES

Well, never a truer word spoken. Or so many people say. Of course time does pass and it does seem to fly, meaning in essence that time moves at a faster pace than we humans can move..whether walking or running. However, it is not time itself that is to to blame for this sense of life racing by. Not even debating what science has to say about time and relativity, it is humans that make time relative to what they want to fit into it. How often words are used to alleviate the guilt of not doing what should be done, for the comfort of others as well as for the well being of the self. "Ï never have time to visit Auntie Jane." Ï never have time to read novels, even the good ones my best friend writes." Ï don't have time to sit by a river and just think." It is really how we use the time we are given on earth that makes the difference to how we feel about its passage. Naturally the majority of adults have to use up a lot of their time just earning a living. The lucky ones doing work they love, or at least enjoy. Others having to fill in time doing what they hate, or at least do not prefer. This difference may be caused by how time was spent in early life, either in working hard at gaining a good education, or formulating other plans or simply by just hanging out...letting tomorrow take care of itself.

Once we are adults we are, in effect, in charge of our own time. We can plan it to give ourselves the best chance of doing what we want to do, outside of earning a crust. It is not easy and yes mistakes are allowed to be made. My mistake was in not realising early enough in life that I was a pretty good writer. I should  have spent more time not only in exercising the craft but in convincing others, publishers etc, how good I was, or at least, would become. The blame can be placed at many things but it comes down to individual choice. Those who are fortunate to have mentors or guides do get a leg up but it still boils down to how we use time ourself. 

So, I could add that I meant to write this blog two weeks ago but other stuff got in the way. I just haven't had time. But it is my fault alone that stopped me from sitting down and writing as I am now.  It has taken a is mere 40 minutes of my time, doing what I love to do and hopefully sharing it with  those who take the time to read this and my previous blogs. Probably an hour of your time. Nothing really, out of the 168 hours a week we are all blessed with.

So please red and leave a comment on this page. Put in your email address to learn more of how my next book is progressing. It will be great to read your thoughts about anything I have written ever since I set up this blog some time ago. 😚

IT'S ONLY WORDS AND WORDS ARE ALL I HAVE

One of my favourite Bee Gee's songs is 'It's only Words'.Not even sure if this is the actual title but the lyrics say so much. I was recently reminded of how easily only words can be misrepresented when it is only the words that are heard and not within any sort of representative context or even without  knowledge what kind of a person is delivering them.

I was at a cafe with a friend and we were bantering away as per usual without any thought to who could hear us. As usual I was doing  most of the bantering. Being known for my satirical commentary on things in particular and life  in general (some would say facetious commentary) I quite openly spoke of the long wait for coffee, of the large belly of the manager who seemed to glare at the cash register and yet grin at the coffee machine, of the vast number of greasy chips customers were being plied with and of the idiot who ordered the wrong item.It was all said tongue in cheek, my face straight, my eyes twinkling, my mind whistling.  The person I was with knows this is how I am. Nothing is meant to hurt or upset. I am careful to be respectful when it is required.

However, sitting at another table a rather sombre couple were clearly hearing every word I said and were taking it for real. They sat stony faced as they peered in my direction. Obviously to them I was little more than a noisy, grumpy, bitch, for speaking in a manner that was supposedly meant to offend. I smiled back, not fully realising until later why they were sending me their silent stares. Naturally they had no idea of my personality, of my kind of humour, of the person I am. In otherwise, they were hearing only harmless words that were totally out of context.

From a writer's point of view it is great to hear words spoken by anyone, in any manner, because words are grist for the mill. Words give the writer freedom to let the imagination fly and to conjure up a story around what is said, without requiring any accurate reference to the speaker or the context.  Yet, it dawned on me that day, how harmful words could become if misunderstood. I began to think about  how easily problems arise, how a fracas evolves, indeed, how wars can be started. Misunderstanding comes mainly from just hearing and/or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. All very illuminating.

Of course, to a degree I've comprehended this since High School. Yet now and again it is good to reassess what it is you know, what you think you know and to think perhaps more carefully before speaking,  especially in public. It is only words but words are all I have to take your heart away...or, perhaps, to sadly💗 hurt it forever.
"Think on, lass," as my grandmother used to say.

Sunsets...here they are!

I eventually recovered three of the 'lost'sunset photos, as per my last blog. Just thought I would add them as Christmas arrives and the sun warms up rather too much for comfort. But as long as I see the sun rise and the sunset it means I have lived yet another day.

HAPPY DAYS!

SUNSETS ARE AS INEVITABLE AS WORDS

Yesterday, after taking yet another photo of yet another sunset, all of which are absolutely beautiful, it came to me that sunsets and words have a lot in common. No matter what race or culture or religion any human being belongs to, they have some form of communication, words, at least for the last fifty thousand years, as far as scientists can gather from the evidence.  Okay, so the sun has set a good many more millions of times than that, but, in our own time, as homo sapiens, words are as inevitable as is the setting of the sun, and thankfully so far, its rising each morning.

Similarly the setting sun seems to predict a good day or a bad day ahead, as far as weather patterns go. "Red sky at might, shepherds delight. Red sky in the morning, shepherds warning." I grew up with that saying ringing in my ears. While I was uncertain as a very young girl what a shepherd had to do with it, I soon came to realise that there was some truth in it. From the beginning of human time observers of Nature have been aware that the skies forewarn us of dry or wet weather, gales or gentle breezes. Indigenous peoples all over the world learned to read the skies, just as they learned to read the earth and all the animals and plants upon it. It was a case of survival. Later they came to read and write words. Clearly homo sapiens learned their lessons well, having survived for so long. The question now is are we ignoring too many of the unwritten signs for our own good?

Endless words have been and will continue to be written and spoken on the subject. Some so ridiculous that they sting those who see the truth of what Nature is trying to tell us. Some are so overly pessimistic that they garner lethargy rather than action. Words will play an even bigger part in the future as meetings and gatherings and debates turn into written laws and regulations that may at last assist Nature to assist us to continue surviving as a species.

In the meantime I will continue to write. I love words. And take photos, many of them sunsets. I love them too. Join me in celebrating both, by commenting on this, and my other blogs.Thanks.

And wouldn't you know it. I just deleted all my sunset photos while trying to upload an image! Technology. I hate it! Now they are fearsome words. Until next time. After a few more sunsets!

Guy Fawkes and all that jazz

Well November 5th has come and gone and a few places have been blown up around the world this year, although more damaging in practical terms than the Gunpowder Plot in England a few centuries ago. The perpetrators were not then called terrorists but were convicted of Treason, as they were attempting to interfere and destroy with the status Quo of the English Parliament at the time. They no doubt would have called themselves Freedom Fighters and herein lies the difficulty of language. Around the world during most of humans existence there have been those who believe in something entirely different to the contemporary view of what a world order should be. Many wars have been and are still fought over them with millions of people being killed as a result. Who is right and who is wrong is always decided by those in power at the time. So, as the saying goes, one mans traitor is another man's freedom fighter. Lines have to be drawn. That goes without saying, almost. Yet in the reading of history (mostly written by the victors) it seems almost as if the words consensus, compassion and rational thought go missing. This is but a superficial interpretation because once history is delved into in greater depth there is almost always a closer relationship between making money, usually via big business and politics than should be morally acceptable. The Pirates that robbed other ships of their wealth under the auspices of Royalty is one example. The Dutch East India Company is another. The raping of other countries and their people, often followed by their cultural as well as physical conquest has been a recurring one.
Why is it that we humans cannot use the words we need to use when trying to fix problems but always raise our voices, our rhetoric and our violence when others do not agree with us.  Maybe we feel we deserve the freedom to choose words that satisfy our egos rather than our souls. Souls now that is another word that means different things to different people. A whole new world to explore.

A LITTLE BIT SAD

There are so many things in the world that make us exceedingly sad, the wars, the terrorism, the poverty, the disease, the low hosing affordability. I could go on and on. But then there are things that make us feel just a little bit sad, a sadness close to what used to be called melancholy. This word is one that can be better used to describe what makes us feel low, a bit down, one that does not drive us into the states of depression or anxiety so frequently diagnosed by the medical profession and drug companies alike.
No, the things that have recently made me feel a little bit sad are the following:

1. Hearing a designer of children's outdoor equipment state that 'We have to be more careful nowadays as with the old design children might fall a couple of metres and hurt themselves." This makes me sad that children have to be so protected. Learning about consequences was ,and should still be, a part of the growing up experience. Children need to take responsibility for their own actions. This includes not offending or hurting other people. If a risk is carelessly taken on a swing or a slide then you suffer the consequences. Simple. Risk taking and rationally assessing risk is part of  growing into a fully rounded human. We are taking away that humanity by making everything secure and safe. Imagination and the desire to challenge boundaries are being missed out by the young, as well as the absolute necessity to question and debate. Adventure is becoming an exclusive and expensive sport, whereas it used to be a natural part of growing up.
2. Next, I recently saw a person purposefully knock someone aside when they dared to query their place in a queue. Such a lack of courtesy and caring for someone else is sad.
3. When a bird flew hard against my window last week and fell to the ground I watched for a few moments as it struggled to get back to its upright position I felt more than a little sad. It died within minutes. I buried it. This creatures death was as a consequence of risk taking, flying against a glass object that was reflecting trees the bird expected to land in.  It was deceived of course by a man made structure.  Birds , while having sufficiently good brains for their own way of life,  do not have the same capacity as humans to judge risks and react accordingly.  Sad if humans become no better at learning about consequences than birds.

A very expressive word is sad.

SNAKE OIL

Snake Oil. Now here is a word that means a lot to people of a certain age and not so much to others. I grew up watching movies about cowboys in the good old US of A and without doubt one of the characters in any film of this genre would be a man selling medicines of dubious quality and efficiency to people isolated in desert country,

or at least in a town far away from what was considered as civilization. What the liquid in the dark brown bottles consisted of was anybody's guess; sometimes alcohol, sometimes morphine or some such derivative, sometimes a chemical concoction that could kill rather than heal, sometimes plain old dirty water. Much faith was put in these snake oils simply because the vendor had a good sales pitch and often a damned good voice, the envy of many a preacher. We see this skill passed on to modern day CEO's of corporations in their 'talks' with governments or indeed to the politicians themselves. The concept is the same. Make a damned good case for a product (or a policy) , sell the idea as something good for the individual person, as if they are the only one that truly matters, and wham the pitch is swallowed holus bolus by sufficient people to make it a worth while enterprise. Of course, what all of these salesmen (and women) are doing is selling a dream and we all want our dreams to come true, no matter how far fetched or expensive it seems to be.
So when we ask what is in a word..well..the word is what sells the dream, or at least puts it up there with other desired offerings. The word is what spreads this desire, this grasping for what is desired as well as the pitch to sell it. The word, money, has a lot to answer for but then it is not the actual object (money) that is the problem it is the person using or abusing it. Money can bring lots of things, including happiness, or so I am told yet it has to be used correctly. Another word. A bit like snake oil that word correctly has many interpretations. Where did snake oil come from? A snake, I guess.
The last word must go to a friendly python passing through our garden on its way from its former home next door, disturbed by the cutting of grass, to a new home, which could be anywhere within a radius of ten kilometres.  Another word. Home. Oh what feelings that can arouse but I have already given the last word to a snake so I will close for this time. Let me know about any snake oils you know of. Just a few words will do..