And

Where am I? When am I? Who am I? All of these questions are absurd. So it is somewhat paradoxical that human beings habitually try and answer them. Where am I? (in my life, my metaphysical stage of development, - or may be I'm just blitzed and I might as well be in Rawtenstall). When am I? (in the present, mindful of what's happening, in the past thinking about how seductive youth is. (!!!!!!! I think not.), in the future, that is, living only in the imagination?

Every morning when Jacky wakes up he says, "snuggle daddy!". We might be sleeping in the same bed or not; it doesn't matter. "Snuggle daddy!". Then, I am the richest man in the whole world. Rockefeller, Branson, Midas, Croesus; they are poor desolate souls bereft of cuddles from their vivacious, imaginative gorgeous son.

Let's get rid of July.

4th Right

5th right

View from the bar to my favourite beach (End of July) 

Hello Granny (That church looks familiar)

I am Scottish

  All this nationalism. Catalonia, Scotland, Mars. I am an immigrant. My home is here, by definition- by definition because it's where I live. Why do people feel a kind of entitlement just because of what it says on their passport? I might be able to understand it if the interested parties were people who had saved the world from fascism. But, in general, they are just people who want to believe in something. They generally appeal to history even when their connection to the machinery of the past is patently tenuous. It's just a football fan mentality. Everybody wants something for free. I'm American and proud of it! I'm a Republican and proud of it! I'm a woman and proud of it! I always say what I think!  What these people are really saying is that, by belonging to a certain group they have rights that have accrued to them historically in spite of the fact they might have done nothing to deserve preferential treatment through their own personal endeavour. Give me a freebie!

Work hard, try your best, be generous and shut up!!

Here endeth the lesson.

Today's poem:

There must be a wound! 
No one can be this hurt 
and not bleed. 

How could she injure me so? 
No marks 
No bruise 

Worse! 
People say 'My, you're looking well' 
.....God help me! 
She's mummified me - 
ALIVE!