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To Kintbury for Vintage Marine Radio…

9 Sep

I usually avoid long drives and fast roads, but James needed a run to Kintbury for very special vintage Marine Radio…Murphy B40.
Was a challenge, but successful trip, home just before dark, thunder, lightening & rain.

Artist John Lavery 1883…

25 Jul

At Langside

Mary, Queen of Scots at Langside.

Mary Queen of Scots Rosneath

Dawn after the Battle of Langside 14th May 1586.

Mary, Queen of Scots sheltering under the Yew trees at Rosneath. Did she ever visit Rosneath?

Lusitania’s Dead, Old Cemetery, Cobh, County Cork

21 Mar

As I searched for the three mass graves of the victims of RMS Lusitania at the Old Cemetery, Queenstown, now Cobh, my hair stood on end and my body tingled.

I quickly realised I had just walked over the first mass grave site…a  moment I shall never forget.


Psalm 51, for Harold xxx

29 Mar

The sweetest of song to escape from the Sistine Chapel…

The Choir of Claire College, Cambridge.

I had the joy of listening to a performance last year

at Douai Abbey, Woolhampton, Berkshire.

Sweet sweet tears…


There Is A Green Hill Far Away – King’s College Choir, Cambridge.

29 Mar

The choir of King’s College, Cambridge sing this lovely Easter hymn.

I remember this  well from my childhood in Scotland.

“Mrs Cecil Frances Al­ex­an­der wrote this hymn as she sat up one night with her ser­i­ous­ly sick daugh­ter. Ma­ny times, tra­vel­ing to town to shop, she had passed a small grassy mound, just out­side the old ci­ty wall of Der­ry, Ire­land. It al­ways made her think of Cal­va­ry, and it came to mind as she wrote this hymn.”

There Is a  Green Hill Far Away.

Music by William Horsley.

There is a green hill far away,
without a city wall,
where our dear Lord was crucified
who died to save us all.

We may not know, we cannot tell,
what pains he had to bear,
but we believe it was for us
he hung and suffered there.

He died that we might be forgiven,
he died to make us good,
that we might go at last to heaven,
saved by his precious blood.

There was no other good enough
to pay the price of sin,
he only could unlock the gate
of heaven and let us in.

O dearly, dearly has he loved!
And we must love him too,
and trust in his redeeming blood,
and try his works to do.


KATABIM…a memory of Istanbul and childhood. Oh…those Turks!

26 Mar

Üsküdar’a gider iken
aldı da bir yağmur
Kâtibimin setresi uzun,
eteği çamur
Kâtip uykudan uyanmış,
gözleri mahmur
Kâtip benim, ben kâtibin,
el ne karışır?
Kâtibime kolalı da gömlek
ne güzel yaraşır

Üsküdar’a gider iken
bir mendil buldum
Mendilimin içine
lokum doldurdum
Ben yarimi arar iken
yanımda buldum
Kâtip benim, ben kâtibin,
el ne karışır?
Kâtibime kolalı da gömlek
ne güzel yaraşır

When going to Üsküdar, it began to rain

long is the coat of my scribe, its sleeves get muddy.

The scribe woke up, his eyes are still sleepy.

I am of my scribe and my scribe is mine, it’s nobody’s business.

How well the stiff shirt collar suits my scribe!

When going to Üsküdar, I found a kerchief

I filled it with lokum (Turkish sweet)

When looking for my helper, I found him on my side.

I am of my scribe and my scribe is mine, it’s nobody’s business.

How well the stiff shirt collar suits my scribe!

“This is the tune that drove us CRAZY as little children…

We went and discovered its source, sang what we remembered, then, identified…danced & danced as the Istanbul restaurant’s  musicians played for us…

In a childish trance of joy!!!”


My Mother’s last scent…

9 Feb

My Mother's last scent...I salvaged this Crabtree & Evelyn oily body spray from my dear departed Mother’s things, and am enchanted…Today I ordered a room spray from CRABTREE & EVELYN’s web site, free postage for Saint Valentine’s Day…the day I was Christened in Glasgow Cathedral 1960.
My dear sister bought me their Evelyn Rose hand & body cream and it is intoxicating…


Gasgow Cathedral

My Mother x


Le Singe Qui Swing by Stevie Smith

7 Feb

Oh how I adore this poem by Stevie Smith.
Sing to the tune of Greensleeves & feel the fun & joy…Here is the great master Stéphane Grappelli on his violin, to add to your pleasure…



Baby McPhee, Was that you?

7 Feb

Baby McPhee, is that you?

I remember her standing in our hall at Oak Bank…her hair middle parted and twisted behind; Tartan shawl with new born babe enclosed snugly warm.
She was Mrs McPhee of Scottish Tinker stock, a regular visitor with Black Tent beyond Fort Road  Kilcreggan and always came to see my mother.
Oh to hear from Mr McPhee of Glasgow, now in his 50’s, who wrote a Blog and a wonderful poem about his dear departed mother…was that She & He?

One of my earliest memories as a child. Said Mr McPhee is blind now, so perhaps I will never hear back from my little request on his blog…I am intrigued.


24 Oct