Leaden Eyes

 Leaden eyes tell the story of another day, Eyelids like shutters pulled and protecting the story of my weary soul. 

Getting late.

Goodnight.

  . 

Incompetence or something else?

 Well dear readers, I have just discovered that my blog page was hiding in plain sight. Now I dont want to log out as I may never be able to log back in ....and how you people would miss me....

The truth is, althogh the internet fascinates me, I waste too much time reading rubbish whereas the stuff that is worthwhile appears to be just outwith my area of understanding. So is that just incompetence or something else?  

Anyway,, glad that  my blog has re-surfaced, will attempt to breathe some life  into it...meantime ....enjoy. 

   

back to Blogger

 

December 2022

 So December has arrived, the struggles in Ukraine take a back seat to the footballers and the coveted World Cup. 

How can this be? Death and mutilation are evedently less important than  22 millionaires chasing a ball. 

Yes, I take a look now and then, in fact you will know that I regularly attend local football here in the Canary Islands, but I doubt if there are any millionaires amongst this number.

Oh well, as I was told last week , I know nothing, or was it understand nothing about the hallowed sport.

So I shall simply scurry away to hide in my blog, where I may even get a follower.

And dont forget, Christmas is coming, even more reason to be joyous. .

 

 

 

South Of Normal

A very occasional fluffy cloud shuffles impatiently across what is 

otherwise a clear sky of cloudless infinity.

Butterflies flutterby, lizards skitter, the ground a hot plate of bugs, 

detritus and dialled in heat. No breeze to cool, no sirocco. No respite.

Sunglasses not a thing of fashion, but of necesity.

To sit and sunbathe is somewhere south of normal.

Time on my hands.

Dear reader,

Time on my hands indeed, retired from Britain's railways for almost 16 years, while some former work acquaintances had already passed on. Without even enjoying a mere few weeks of retirement bliss.

Some tell me I did the right thing.

Almost by tradition, many rail staff worked from 15 to 65 and then nothing, I believe there are still such individuals, fearing a plunge into the abyss of alcohol or hospital, or both.  

Thus, I read, take pictures, and try continued education in just about anything, especially in life, with time on my hands.