Friday, February 02, 2018


Dear  all…
Dear everyone…


Emails have always seemed to me to be a very informal method of sending mail.  The minuscule ‘Hi’ and the nondescript ‘Hello’ definitely do not suit all situations.  Very occasionally, ‘Good morning/Good afternoon….Mr/Mrs’  turns up; it’s easy enough to similarly respond, if I know of the writer, though not if it is mail from the business.  Business emails are business communications like any that are delivered by postal mail services. They just do not look like it, or, maybe, it’s just they do not look like the business mail I have been used to.

If it’s a formal communication conventions state I should respectfully open with, ‘Dear Sir’, or, ‘Dear Madam’  or, a combined version of both;  I have never considered any particular business entity  dear to me, nor  anyone in it with whom I may have developed a working business relationship.  (Oh dear).  Looking at terms of endearment, I am no further forward in creating alternative salutations for the purpose.

Scottish Pavement Poetry In Edinburgh

I might feel less inhibited if I felt free to open with something nicely terse at times. Huffing and puffing, I might just consider dropping terms of endearment and  begin, “Sir”, or, “Madam”.   It’s the worst I can allow myself to do.   Undoubtedly, this is exactly the reason for beginning a written correspondence in a traditionally, accepted, mannerly, style,  at all times.  The moment your thoughts turn to ‘dear….’ the system structure draws you into its conventional framework.  And dropping ‘dear’ to a curt ‘Sir or Madam’ only frames a much more formal, but  still a conventionally acceptable mailing.   So be it.

The written word speaks volumes.


Tuesday, January 02, 2018




Friday, November 24, 2017


The latest incarnation of  my browser has been surprisingly easy to get used to; about an hour or so. that's pretty good I reckon. The primary icons are presented in a different, smaller, bold font, others are easily accessible to view with a click or two. The one habit that might have been a difficult to drop, was working  with  the new icons, now placed on the opposite side to where they used to be, but, it has not.  I believe it is because the new font attracts. The page has a clear clean-looking and tidy task bar.

The only bit of clutter, is stuff that arrives here on Blogspot telling you, exhorting you, to agree to cookies. It is highly satisfying to clear them off.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017


It's a while since I posted here. Summer, such as it was, has been and gone. What I would call winter, of which, we are in the early weeks, our meteorologists call Autumn.

It does feel like the goal posts are being moved on so many fronts.  Our old familiar realities have been altered out of recognition.  We do get stuck in ruts at various points of life, not all are comfortable. Hopefully, though, we are able to move on. The world seems to be turned back -to -front and on its head. I am, therefore, not sure what moving on, and on into some of the present alternative realities means. 

Whose realities are they and on what are they based?  The answers will be diverse, in the main, by virtue of culture and experience.  Darwin's proposition of the survival of the fittest is ever omnipresent.  People will  hold onto a range of lifelines while negotiating the quicksands that they are moving through.

A rut might be quite nice after all.

Tuesday, June 13, 2017


What a din!  I thought it must be a sheep-shearing day at the neighbouring farm.  Mums and their lambs were noisily milling about in front of one of the barns, the doors of which, were firmly shut.


This was not the norm for them.  As far as they were concerned, when you head for the barn forecourt, you naturally move on through the wide open doors of the barn and into it.  The lambs were all born in there, except for the odd one or two, so, both ewes and offspring had a deep formed affinity to the place.  They wanted to be let in and they did not care who knew it.
And of course, it rained, not just any sort of rain, but soaking curtains of rain.


When something is happening with the flock, the weather is always uncertain, especially when the sheep are being treated, or, sorted, or, sheared. It seems like nature is being deliberately perverse. This occasion, the stock were being 'dosed'. You can bet your bottom dollar that when they are sheared, which will be soon, we will experience gales and probably a hail storm or two.

Thursday, March 23, 2017


I just want to add my very sincere condolences to those that have been publicly recorded already, to the families and loved ones of  those who were bereaved in Central London yesterday.

I am also thinking about the people who were injured, to all of you, your families and loved ones, my very best wishes.

Monday, March 13, 2017


One afternoon during February, from inside the outside looked bright, cheery and tempting.  So, we, that’s hubs and me, invited ourselves out for a coffee.  There was a noticeable icy breeze, truly icy. It wasn’t too bad once we’d got used to the feel of it. I was glad of the thick jeans I was wearing, (these days, jeans seem to be made with much thinner denim cloth).  Together with my hip length padded jacket and a big scarf wrapped round my collar it all worked a treat. Hubs was well wrapped up too.
Crossing a bridge, I saw a tight ‘ruck’ of Snowdrops, the first I had seen this year. They bank onto a river.  In another week or so, the whole bank should be carpeted with them.

Snowdrops From A Previous Year

We arrived at our destination and found our favourite seating area was free and only one person, the manageress,  was at a table. It was an oasis of calm.  A lot of people favour the same seating area, and  it can be teeming with bodies from whom emanates a very high volume cacophony of sound.  A group of teachers is one of the noisiest.  Next are parents who allow their little offspring with their metal toys -small cars  mostly-to bang them on  the glass table tops. The kids love it. This is an efficient way to clear the nook of other customers!

P1000411 Young Dougal 2
On the way home  we wandered up to a farm and bought some fresh eggs, chatted to the shepherdess, who also runs the egg enterprise and does lots of other things in the modern diversified life of farming.

A plop of icy sleet startled me, followed by a few more plops.  Then I noticed an unexpected clump of bright yellow in the shelter of closely planted leafless bushes.  Crocuses were about to bloom.  Could Spring be just around the corner?