Tag Archives: blogging

Heritage

Scotland 2014 Anne CorrCris's trees displatepurleigh footpath3

For me heritage is no one place but anywhere where I find trees.  The source of deep meditative restoration to my soul. And the very breath of life.

The Daily Post challenge – Heritage

 

Once upon a time

 

 

 

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Nostalgia

This weeks photo challenge was Nostalgia.  This is my husband, we were younger then, and we smoked!  I love the casual pose, I love that he looks like a film star and I still miss those cigarettes!

linked to : wordpress photo challenge

You want Fun?! I’ll give you fun

robasviking

Weekly Photo Challenge/Fun

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/fun/

 

As usual I have got my calendar all wrong , after having pursued this fun challenge, I have determined I have missed it by approximately a month. NO matter , it is always the process that counts and I have enjoyed finding images in my files that sort of say ‘Fun’.  I am such a serious girl, that had I not had the privilege of bringing up boys , there is a considerable possibility I may have missed out on the concept of fun. Really. It isn’t something that hits my neurons in the same way as many others.  I am who I am and that is that. But these moments testify- they had fun with a very un fun mum!  I have to state that I am only responsible in a generative way for two  of these handsome lads – three were generated by my husband before he and I became one. As it were. And the little girl is the niece of my nephews fiance, and the camels don’t belong to me . They belong in a zoo. tilly125_2507114_1490100_0046108_0887-copy108_0878

 

 

 

 

Who dreams in Latin?

know thyself

Me apparently.  Now I understand there is going to be a minority of educated peeps who regularly visit their night time muse and discourse via that ancient language.  Because they can.  I am not of them.  I detested taking Latin in school and confounded attempts to make me regular or irregular with verbage, refused to consort with Hannibal and Hasdrubal despite the allure of elephants, and exited the class only with the ability to ‘tu, te, tui, tibi, te’ to  rhythm courtesy of my doctors eccentric wife who brought a whole new dimension of dance into the conjugation theme. Saying that I do know that ‘Julia puella parva est’ tells me what anyone with eyes could determine – Julia is a small girl. Latin as a discipline was forced onto my curriculum by my mother, who had been denied the opportunity and believed it to be necessary in any right thinking girls armoury, which may have been the case in Montaigne’s time, whose father denied his son the use of any other language as he grew up. But times change. Move on – the thrust of my enquiry is why would I be dreaming Latin phrases?  I awoke recently with the clear message of ‘Nosce te ipsum’ plastered all over my consciousness in the style of a Banksy’s graffiti.  I knew I knew what it meant, but couldn’t recall – I had to resort to the husband, who resorted to the Google machine.  Of course – Nosce te ipsum is ‘Know Thyself’  – now the nub of the real enquiry is why is my subconscious sending me this command?  Is it thrust at me dagger like, suggesting I lack self awareness and something very dark and looming is about to reveal itself in my personality?  Or is it somewhat self congratulatory , extolling the virtues of introspection and reflection which anyone who knows me will confirm I expound.  I like neither scenario – self congratulation is about as welcome as self flagellation in my eyes, with less soreness. And I have lived a whole life like Henny Penny who clucked around her friends asking whether the sky was falling .

Despite the anxiety around whether my subconscious is alerting me to something I ought to know, I welcome this intrusion .  ‘Know thyself’ seems a good mantra to me.  Look at your virtues and examine your faults – try every moment you can to be the best version of yourself – this is what I take from the message.  I fail, I pick myself up and I fail again, but in the attempt to understand my errors, my poor decisions, I end up making better ones. Everyone’s a winner. I have never regretted saying sorry. Sometimes I have not said it, or not soon enough and I have regretted that. I suppose saying sorry makes you vulnerable, shows a side that is less than perfect.  I like that. I like that when I create something and something goes wrong, I always end up with creating something better in it’s stead. Always.  And when someone says sorry to me, I tend to cut them some slack. That’s the way it works.

Nosce te ipsum.

St Augustine quotation Anne Corr

Yuhana no sakayuru toki ni

..But just at the time of flourishing blossoms.

 

wordpress

From  The Tales of Ise – Ise monogatari  – anthology of Japanese poems from the Heian period 794  – 1185

Illustration my own, based on  Japanese illustration by Utagawa Hiroshige born 1797

 

Help – I need somebody!

blog

Righto – I am going to just come right out and say it as it is – I really need some help.  My small attempt to make an impact in the world of hand crafted loveliness is running up against a big, bad wall.  Etsy has changed. It has. It isn’t where I started, but it isn’t going to change so somehow I need to man up and get my head around all this promotion business.  I have done some homework – oh yes – I don’t expect the world to fall into my  lap, adn I am well acquainted with the hows and wheretofores of S.E.O. – Three most dreaded capitals when they are together that I know.  This is the hub of it.  I need back links, and not just ANY back links , back links that matter. Back links with attitude. To quote a master on the subject, backlinks ‘are considered external because the appear on pages not found on etsy.com. Providing the site owner has not added a “nofollow” tag to your links, they will pass equity, or the SEO goodness that tell Google to trust your site.’

 

So there we are. I need you give me a backlink on your blog. Wow! I said it. I am happy  to sing it, and will write anyone a guest blog about how and what I do. Let me know if anyone is interested.