Thursday, December 09, 2010

Daniel Ramsay's Photos - November 24, 2010

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Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Three brothers in Wales


what a great picture thanks Sophie for sending and of course I was too young to remember this moment in time .

Monday, April 12, 2010

Second thoughts

Second thoughts let's dispense with the confessions and kind of stay more in the moment as when I wake up from a little snooze at the library and through half closed eyes spy this very attractive girl wandering around the shelves looking for a book and and ending up standing right in my line of sight at an Internet terminal , enabling me to stare right at her without attracting too much attention .
Dark hair tied up carelessly with a few loose curls falling onto a slender neck supported by straight shoulders bearing the thin straps of a short black dress decorated with layers of tassels over black tights ending at her knees .In my semi dream state I toy around with the idea of walking over to the terminal next to her and conjure up a few introductory scenarios in my head .I continue to stare and from her confident demeanour and air of self possession talk myself out of carrying out my my momentary fantasy , after all I am her Senior by 30 plus years , so I let her shimmer out of the library alone .

Friday, April 09, 2010

shadow

My shadow ,or elements of my character not readily apparent ............whoa are you really going to reveal some dark secret ? Never mind more about this later and thus follows an operatic cackle of laughter .

Thursday, March 25, 2010


Bob buying new cell phone after dropping one in paint and also cat Murphy at his place
Good fortune reigned for uncle John and younger uncle Charles , with Daddy Bob of little Henry boy and Daisy sister , when humdrum school was canceled for the snow and thus arose a chance to play the family way dragging sleds up and down the hill , while Daddy Bob showed off his snow board skill , but really to watch and care for Henry boy and Daisy sister together on the sled hurtling toward a barbed fence but at the last gently stopping short.

When Henry boy complained , " I can hardly make but one more run because my little toes I cannot feel , so Uncle Charles slipped off young Henry's welly boots and rubbed his chilly toes , then sent him sledging one more time with Daisy sister holding tight.

So when the day was done and heading home through deep snow fields and snow ball salvos they reached the short cut home by the church and Uncle John and younger Uncle Charles had surely sewn themselves into the children's memory, forever connected.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Sylvia's garden


Let's take a walk in Sylvia's garden for a moment and follow the path through arches of vines and flowers entering a landscape arranged with scattered groups of once discarded stones, now reclaimed and placed in whimsical patterns amongst an array of trees and shrubs.

Throughout our walk we can share in Sylvia's world and experience for a while living in the moment, moment to moment without regret or expectation .

From the garden we enter the house where the past has been brought to the present and our eyes are bombarded with Sylvia's carefully ordered collections of books, paintings, family photos and heirlooms. Slumping gently into soft furniture we feel the atmosphere of creativity as a crackling fireplace warms our cheeks .

Many words come to mind as we connect with our mood, preserve , reclaim , create,
care and share and our thoughts culminate in the realization of love , meaning , and
purpose

http://www.hundredhouse.co.uk/accomm.htm( See Sylvia's work here

Sunday, March 07, 2010

Henry's house

Brother Henry rules his roost and why not he has run a mini empire consisting of a pub and hotel for forty years and it came so naturally to him when he assigned me the task of chopping kindling wood for the numerous fireplaces around the hotel and bars which depended on wood heat for warmth .He handed out such orders without a hint that there would be any dissent and in fact he would leave rather quickly in order to lessen the chance for any objection .It was just like the old days except now I was 62 and and Henry was 71 but still I felt like the kid brother of long ago when I was 12 and he was 21 .So I dutifully headed off for the wood shed and started chopping sticks from a pile of carpenters waste and then my other brother John showed up and proceeded to load a wheel barrow with logs of compressed saw dust which was the prime burning fuel for the fireplaces .John is the eldest but does not want to admit it and thus attacks any physical task with a kind of gusto that belies his age of 72 .Meanwhile I finished the kindling and helped John fill up another barrow with logs but before I could lift the barrow myself John muscled in front of me and took off toward the house which was Henry's residence close by the pub.Not knowing what to do next I followed John up the path to Yew Tree Cottage and then John noticed that I was behind him and dropping the barrow he turned to me and angrily shouted 'where the hell are you going'. I was completely taken aback and could not muster a reply and feeling even more like a child I turned back towards the pub wondering what was wrong .

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

WALK IT OFF

WALK IT OFF

That was the fattest pigeon that I saw a flapping in the trees

hiding from a hovering hawk lifted by a gentle breeze .

In the paddock near I heard a donkey bray,

standing lonely amongst the hay.

Ten times around the garden now I've been

and still that was the fattest pigeon that I've seen
Daddy

Back from sixty I'm nine

Daddy's at the back door coughing that cough,

you know,

stopped short by wince of stretched stitches on a scar from recent repair

with my nine eyes I look up at him and ask my whys

tap tap tap on the pack face of a salty sailor

he answers while stained thumb and finger lifts to light a smoke muffling reply

wisping words spell 'I can't quit'

he spits untipped bits and takes another drag.


-- spell check edited version
Charles Phillips
Mar 01, 2008 - 07:07 AM PST

soo line, potomac, life is a train
as pips from lemons strain of clacks from tracks
rushing graffity across eyes aglase
with the comfort of a sugar hase
at the crossing coffee in the lap
where once stirred juices soured by excess .