I have found a blogger who is fasting for the first time for the whole of Ramadan. He is not Muslim, yet!, but is throwing himself into this experience.
The New Metho Festo is the full name of the blog.
Tuesday, 31 July 2012
Monday, 30 July 2012
Following the Games
I have just found a lovely live link to Games coverage, with glimpses of athletes and communities from around the world.
Monday, 23 July 2012
Feeling Happy
Last week I was in London for the weekend. My brother and I spent some hours together near St Martin's Lane. We visited 7 places at least!
While we were chatting in a dark middle eastern themed restaurant in Neal's Yard I said that I was feeling happy at the moment. It seemed so strange to say that given the turmoil in the world and my current interests in political topics.
We mused that London amplifies one's mood, so when feeling down London can send you further down, but being on an up there is a great thing.
Earlier he had answered a salesman's question of 'How are you today?' with 'Terrible!!' with a big smile. We were in a shirt shop. That broke the ice, so while he chose some shirts we all discussed our favourite writers, children, life in general.
All in all the 48 hours I spent in London were a wonderful holiday. I haven't yet touched on going on the demonstration as there is so much to reflect on I may never get round to writing a blog post. That demo was the push for me to go in the first place.
While we were chatting in a dark middle eastern themed restaurant in Neal's Yard I said that I was feeling happy at the moment. It seemed so strange to say that given the turmoil in the world and my current interests in political topics.
We mused that London amplifies one's mood, so when feeling down London can send you further down, but being on an up there is a great thing.
Earlier he had answered a salesman's question of 'How are you today?' with 'Terrible!!' with a big smile. We were in a shirt shop. That broke the ice, so while he chose some shirts we all discussed our favourite writers, children, life in general.
All in all the 48 hours I spent in London were a wonderful holiday. I haven't yet touched on going on the demonstration as there is so much to reflect on I may never get round to writing a blog post. That demo was the push for me to go in the first place.
Durham University
I wonder why I didn't even go once to the Quaker Meeting House in Durham or find out about the local Amnesty group while I was an undergraduate there in the 80's. Now those would be on top of my list! How people change.
I have just added a new blog to my sidebar, marcowenjones, who happens to be studying in Durham and is active on Twitter and in other ways on behalf of the reform process in Bahrain.
I have just added a new blog to my sidebar, marcowenjones, who happens to be studying in Durham and is active on Twitter and in other ways on behalf of the reform process in Bahrain.
Sunday, 22 July 2012
Reading out loud to children
I would like to do a survey on here in the comments boxes. The question is:
What book(s) are each of your children asking you (not anyone else) to read to them right now, this week? Answers listed by child's age only, no names. Exclude any externally imposed or chosen books, just spontaneous "I really want this one!!" requests.
1. Age 16 - no requests for reading out loud any more.
2. Age 14 - Casino Royale by Ian Fleming, no others.
Over to you....
What book(s) are each of your children asking you (not anyone else) to read to them right now, this week? Answers listed by child's age only, no names. Exclude any externally imposed or chosen books, just spontaneous "I really want this one!!" requests.
1. Age 16 - no requests for reading out loud any more.
2. Age 14 - Casino Royale by Ian Fleming, no others.
Over to you....
Saturday, 21 July 2012
New blogs
I love wandering around online, then finding blogs to add here.
saltpublishing
blackwiththeblues
I like hearing people's voices in their written and spoken words and I am dipping my toe in the water with poetry. I also like rawness and honesty.
saltpublishing
blackwiththeblues
I like hearing people's voices in their written and spoken words and I am dipping my toe in the water with poetry. I also like rawness and honesty.
Sunday, 8 July 2012
On first looking into Google
I sometimes discuss the world pre-Google with my sons. I can't imagine going back there myself and I lived most of my life without that access to information. I don't want them to know what it is like to be unable to access information and for everyone else to be in this permanent predicament too.
I remember when I started using Google for the first time, around the year 2000. I sat there with the search box and tried all sorts of different words and phrases. They had all been in my head before, but then for the first time I typed them out and pressed enter to see what result would come up.
Each night after the children were asleep I would type in different things into the search bar. I did this for about 3 months, exploring the world, seeing how many things could be named and learning how to search using key words instead of the library classifications. There was no longer the barrier of having to know what higher heading to use.
It is almost impossible for me to think that there was no Twitter, Mumsnet, YouTube or even blogging!
Looking back now, it was a revelation to have such a responsive connection with a world of people beyond personal contacts or family members. There was no emotional pressure involved in the response, no threat, no expectation whatsoever, no need to smile or laugh or be touched or be in a place for a certain length of time or to travel in someone's else's car or eat what they chose.
I remember when I started using Google for the first time, around the year 2000. I sat there with the search box and tried all sorts of different words and phrases. They had all been in my head before, but then for the first time I typed them out and pressed enter to see what result would come up.
Each night after the children were asleep I would type in different things into the search bar. I did this for about 3 months, exploring the world, seeing how many things could be named and learning how to search using key words instead of the library classifications. There was no longer the barrier of having to know what higher heading to use.
It is almost impossible for me to think that there was no Twitter, Mumsnet, YouTube or even blogging!
Looking back now, it was a revelation to have such a responsive connection with a world of people beyond personal contacts or family members. There was no emotional pressure involved in the response, no threat, no expectation whatsoever, no need to smile or laugh or be touched or be in a place for a certain length of time or to travel in someone's else's car or eat what they chose.
Saturday, 7 July 2012
Poetry and traumatic times
After that amazing question was asked and answered, 'What do you do with your rage?', I realized I could write poetry to process mine too. This was during the question and answer session after the poetry reading at the Migrants' Resource Centre in London last week.
I won't only be looking back at rage, but at many traumatic moments in the run up to and after starting home educating. Gradually the many situations I have experienced or witnessed are coming back to my mind. I am letting myself just say one word to myself, like gravel or door, as a reminder of each incident. These memories are purely visual or emotional.
Often when I wrote my diary at that time I found I could not list the events in order, I would write something like, I'm not sure when this bit happened (during the evening). So even the sequence of events was shocked out of my mind.
Other events would succeed each other, but I would not know how one section joined to the next because a linking bit of time would not be in my memory, it would have been blanked out, even though it was only a few hours earlier. I knew it was missing because the memories would move from one location in the house to another with nothing covering how we got there. I didn't know how much time was missing.
They were like snapshots actually, like the time I was in a car crash and all I could remember were a sequence of separate moments, as if I had opened my eyes several times to see different instants, but had my eyes shut in between each one.
I had thought I would need to find another counsellor, but now I sense that I could work by myself on this.
I think it would be best to create some sort of ritual to surround the calling to mind and choosing of words for this remembering. I would like to know that I won't ask myself to think about these things out of the blue so a lead up walk to a special place might help me keep this all sectioned off safely. I wonder where I might like to try this out.
I have a chair my grandfather used and there are various places in the garden. The village has benches going right out into the countryside. There are cafes in Didcot. There is a whole stone church in my street to which I have a key.
Since thinking about this idea I have left it alone. Doing a post here is quite enough for now.
I won't only be looking back at rage, but at many traumatic moments in the run up to and after starting home educating. Gradually the many situations I have experienced or witnessed are coming back to my mind. I am letting myself just say one word to myself, like gravel or door, as a reminder of each incident. These memories are purely visual or emotional.
Often when I wrote my diary at that time I found I could not list the events in order, I would write something like, I'm not sure when this bit happened (during the evening). So even the sequence of events was shocked out of my mind.
Other events would succeed each other, but I would not know how one section joined to the next because a linking bit of time would not be in my memory, it would have been blanked out, even though it was only a few hours earlier. I knew it was missing because the memories would move from one location in the house to another with nothing covering how we got there. I didn't know how much time was missing.
They were like snapshots actually, like the time I was in a car crash and all I could remember were a sequence of separate moments, as if I had opened my eyes several times to see different instants, but had my eyes shut in between each one.
I had thought I would need to find another counsellor, but now I sense that I could work by myself on this.
I think it would be best to create some sort of ritual to surround the calling to mind and choosing of words for this remembering. I would like to know that I won't ask myself to think about these things out of the blue so a lead up walk to a special place might help me keep this all sectioned off safely. I wonder where I might like to try this out.
I have a chair my grandfather used and there are various places in the garden. The village has benches going right out into the countryside. There are cafes in Didcot. There is a whole stone church in my street to which I have a key.
Since thinking about this idea I have left it alone. Doing a post here is quite enough for now.
Sunday, 1 July 2012
Open Gardens
I visited several open gardens in my village this afternoon.
One gentleman told me how he likes to mow around the long grass with a bare torso, to feel the soft fronds on his skin.
I told him that he looks after his garden and his garden looks after him.
It was one of those windy, but hot and sunny days.
One gentleman told me how he likes to mow around the long grass with a bare torso, to feel the soft fronds on his skin.
I told him that he looks after his garden and his garden looks after him.
It was one of those windy, but hot and sunny days.
MP George Galloway speaking out about Ian Henderson in 1997
On Twitter I have just spotted a link to this piece of Hansard from 1997. Read it and see how many similar situations have been reported just in the past few months.
Systems like a written record of speeches in Parliament over many years and online search allow this access to past words. Words are so powerful both in the present and for the future. Many people work to create these systems and maintain them with a sort of faith in their importance.
I love George Galloway's turn of phrase and manner of speaking. He can survive anything, even the cat episode on Big Brother, (my hint to my son H to explain who he is). H got it immediately! Another note for my home ed log.
Systems like a written record of speeches in Parliament over many years and online search allow this access to past words. Words are so powerful both in the present and for the future. Many people work to create these systems and maintain them with a sort of faith in their importance.
I love George Galloway's turn of phrase and manner of speaking. He can survive anything, even the cat episode on Big Brother, (my hint to my son H to explain who he is). H got it immediately! Another note for my home ed log.
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