Two pictures of discipline: Heads up, shoulders back, chests out, tongues in (that last order refers to the second picture).
On the right – RUC District Inspector Michael Murphy, escorting Princess Elizabeth in Belfast 1949.
(The story of Uncle Mike and the future Queen is here.)
And here’s another picture of discipline. Training will out.
Cat courage? Or dog self-discipline?
These Continue reading
Sure why else would I have been lying here, but to be sat on? (I'm the one looking resigned. Dunno who the reader is.)
I’m fairly calm. When one problem builds on another into a concatenation of catastrophes, I tend to keep my cool.
No – not because I haven’t a clue about how bad things are. But because I can imagine them being worse. (That’s my theory anyway.) It’s come in handy over the years working in live broadcasting where the unexpected is not that, well, unexpected.
But calmness is not the same as serenity.
To be calm is to remain focussed and carry on, no matter what.
To be serene is to embrace the slings and arrows – or children piled on top of you while you’re trying to read – and feel an extra warm mmmm of contentment.
Oops, sorry. Wrong picture.
To calm is to withstand being poked.
To be serene is when the poking, pulling, jagging and squashing feels as though you’re being stroked.
Whilst wearing plush velour Continue reading
Not sure which end of the lead is in charge.
It’s hard for someone who has a real bond with an animal, especially a dog, to explain the nature and strength of the connection to someone who has never experienced it. Or to convey the sense of loss if the animal dies or is taken away.
But Ninni Holmqvist may have managed it Continue reading
So we’re all laughing at those gullible fools who believed the Rapture was coming at the weekend. We’re all chuckling snootily and snidely down our noses. Ho ho, aren’t we so enlightened, not like those sad losers.
Well the laugh is on you.
No, not because Harold Camping has come up with a new date.
Just because neither you nor any of your mates got taken up into heaven – doesn’t mean nobody else did. Quietly. Without a fuss. While you were all (er, and me, ‘cos I’m still here too) wallowing in your complacency, the “elect” could have been boarding SpaceShipOne for a one way trip to the celestial heights.
But that’s not it either.
The thing is, the Rapture did happen. But no men with beards were involved – not even Richard Branson. Harold Camping simply got one significant detail wrong. And here’s the proof. Continue reading
Weird weather we’re having at the moment.
Raining cats and dogs? Cloudy with meatballs?
It’s been raining rabbits here.
We found Continue reading
So many questions. What is it about New Yorkers and their dogs?
Is it art?
And have I just met the most dedicated art lover in the world? Continue reading
Some people come to look like their pets. But can your character be altered by the machines you use? Continue reading