Impatiens

There are around a thousand different species of impatiens. Most are outdoor plants but a few are better suited for indoors. They include impatiens walleriana, once native to East Africa and named after a British missionary called Horace Waller. In Great Britain this familiar flowering plant is commonly known as busy lizzie.

Forty five years ago someone kindly gave me a little busy lizzie plant. When I come to think of it, it was my first ever house plant. It arrived shortly before Shirley and I met up and began living together. We took it to our first proper home - a rented one bedroom flat on Wiseton Road at Hunter's Bar

The plant received much attention. We watered it, fed it with "Baby Bio" and carefully nipped off unwanted shoots to encourage bushiness. It stood on a dressing table in our bedroom and through our stewardship it became a marvellous example of an indoor busy lizzie - green and vigorous with plenty of little pink flowers. Somewhere in this house I have a print of that  much loved plant.

There is a sense in which busy lizzies do not last forever. They become leggy and tired like residents of a care home. They have to go. Unfortunately, they do not produce seeds so if you want their lineage to endure you have to take cuttings. 

The cuttings are placed in water with leaves above the surface and after a week or two, little white roots begin to appear. You then place the cuttings in little plant pots in a medium of  nutritious compost. Usually these cuttings will grow  without much trouble and after three or four months they will have grown so much that you will need to repot them in larger vessels.

This is a process I know very well because every year for the past forty five years I have taken new cuttings that all link back to the the little flat on Wiseton Road and the ancestor plant that stood upon our dressing table.

A while ago, I took three of the tiniest cuttings I have ever sought to propagate but they all came through and now the developing plants are three weeks old. Crazily, I tend to think that I am duty-bound to continue the family tree and if it should end then a part of me will be lost too. The busy lizzies have come to represent a special link back to the past - to simpler times and youth and the birth of love.

Pets

A song is sweeping America. It's cleverly built around #45's  crazy declaration that Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio are eating the cats and dogs of "the people that live there".

Even though this accusation has no foundation in truth, that doesn't seem to have dented #45's  steady support from his right wing, pseudo-patriotic base. It appears that he can say what the hell he wants to say and simply get away with it. 

When corrected by the moderators at the Philadelphia debate on September 10th, #45 lied through his back teeth claiming that he had seen citizens on television talking about the disappearance of their pets. What a load of twaddle! 

The guy is more barmy than we thought. He appears to be falling apart at the seams. What the hell does he want to be POTUS for again any way? He did it once. Surely that should be enough to sate his inflated ego. After all, he doesn't really care about the American people or future directions. To him it's all just a game.

Heartland

Above - that's a picture of Holy Trinity Church in the heart of my East Yorkshire village, I was christened in that church and there I delivered eulogies for my mother in 2007 and for my younger brother Simon in August 2022.

I took the photograph this very morning. It was the first time I had seen Simon's gravestone. There it is in the foreground just left of centre. I put the potted heather in front of it and some rocks I had brought specially from home to support the pot.

I have obscured our surname for purposes of confidentiality.

Luckily, the church door was open. A woman was busily cleaning therein but she kindly allowed me inside with my friend Tony who I had picked up in Beverley.

We saw the font where, as a baby, I was doused with holy water and a carved stone relic from the village's original church which stood at Hall Garth - a mile west of the village. It was called St Faith's but only its churchyard remains. It is a place that has always intrigued me.

Above, stone relic discovered in 1836 at the site of  St Faith's medieval church. On the side shown it depicts The Virgin Mary with baby Jesus, St Faith and St Catherine. Holy Trinity Church was not operational until 1844 - the same year that the dismantlement of St Faith's was completed.

After the church visit, we drove back to Beverley and thence to the "park and ride" west of Hull where we caught a bus to the football ground.

There we had the pleasure of watching our beloved Hull City beating Cardiff City by four goals to one though it never felt like a truly convincing victory. It's as if our new squad of players are still trying to discover each other and gel together. But it's a victory and we'll take it. Up The Tigers!

Algerian player Mohamed Belloumi scored two goals.

The game marked 120 years of Hull City's existence.

Missed

Tree down in Tallahassee

Just got home from babysitting our two lovely granddaughters. They didn't wake up in the four hours that we were down at their house. It is a nine minute walk away from us. Frances and Stewart wanted to go for a birthday meal at a new Italian restaurant on nearby Oakbrook Road. When they returned they reported their dinner had been very good.

Tomorrow I am going to a football match over at Hull. The Tigers are playing Cardiff City who sacked their manager last weekend. They are languishing at the bottom of the Championship table with only one point so we stand a good chance of beating them. However, I certainly would not take that for granted.

I hope to set off early in order to make a detour to my home village - where I was born and raised. It's two years since my younger brother Simon died from cancer in Dove House Hospice in Hull and it is almost a year since a simple gravestone was erected in the village churchyard at great expense above his grave.

Trouble is I haven't seen it yet - just a couple of photographs from the monumental stone mason who followed my instructions to the letter. I am also going to take a plant pot containing coloured heathers to place in front of his headstone. Tomorrow's forecast is good

Naturally, I often think of  Simon and how he lived his life. He was a difficult character and when my mother was still alive, he often came back to her - stressing her out, sponging off her and even making her feel frightened to sleep in her own bedroom. He wasn't certifiable but he didn't fit in and often found solace in cannabis and marijuana. These so-called recreational drugs sparked a few psychotic episodes and by the time he reached twenty he was much changed from the happy-go-lucky lad who entered his teens in 1969.

Over the last three days, I have observed the progress of Hurricane Helene from afar. It moved relentlessly across the Gulf of Mexico before bearing down on "The Big Bend" south east of Tallahassee. Blogmate Mary Moon lives just east of there and I was hoping that by now she might have reported on her situation. However, there may have been issues with her electricity supply and local telecommunication masts so it's no big surprise that we have not heard from her yet.

One headline in "The Tallahassee Democrat" says "Hurricane Helene skirts Tallahassee, leaves minimal damage" so hopefully Mrs Moon and her entire family are safe and sound. It seems that they may all have suffered a near miss. Sadly, initial reports suggest that Hurricane Helene has taken over 43 lives in Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina and Virginia. Millions of homes remain without power.

Crassness

You may have read that in the last couple of weeks, America's 45th president has launched a new self-glorifying silver coin that he claims he designed himself. This is available to America's general public for $100 a piece plus shipping.

The crassness of such merchandising would be laughable if wasn't so, well - crass. However it is entirely in keeping with the other crap you can purchase via his vulgar "Trump Store". There are slippers, chocolates, skin care products, jewellery and clothing ranges for men and women. The list goes on.

Even more recently, he also launched a range of watches that mostly sell for $499 though  the top of the range "Tourbillon" watch sells for $100,000.

However, surely the pinnacle of #45's vulgar vanity profiteering remains his"God Bless The USA  Bible". An updated edition is referred to as "The Day God Intervened Edition" which is described thus in the marketing blurb:   "This beautiful God Bless The USA Bible has been custom embossed to in remembrance of the day that God intervened during President Donald J. Trump’s assassination attempt". Can you see the grammatical blunder in the middle? Clearly proof readers at godblesstheusabible.com could not. Also I would ask, who did he attempt to assassinate?

In any case, did God really intervene? Perhaps it was Satan who made the bullet skim the top of his right ear, miraculously leaving no scar.

Sarcastically, I find it surprising that other world leaders haven't followed The Orange Turnip's example by launching their own online stores. Emmanuel Macron could promote a range of men's fragrances including "Eau de Seine" and "Parfum de Gauloises". Australia's Anthony Albanese could market "Once a Jolly Swagman" bush products including billy cans, leather belts, boot laces, fire lighters, insect sprays and sleeping bags. Here in Great Britain, Sir Keir Starmer could sell fountain pens, University of Leeds neckties, Arsenal scarves and of course a new range of designer spectacles that would make almost anyone look stunningly diplomatic .

Assassins

Assassin bug

We share this planet with many different creatures and some of them can kill us. What are the figures in an average year? Coming in at Number 10 - it's lions...

Animal	Humans killed per year
10. Lions	200
9. Hippos	500
8. Elephants	600
7. Crocodiles	1,000
6. Scorpions	3,300
5. Assassin Bugs	10,000
4. Dogs	59,000
3. Snakes	138,000
2. Humans	400,000
1. Mosquitoes	725,000

Yes, that's right, the biggest killers of all are mosquitoes! I doubt that this will come as any great surprise to anyone.

The only killer on the list that I had not even heard of was  the assassin bug. It spreads the deadly Chagas disease in parts of Central and South America. You can pick it up from bites or through the faeces of this dangerous creature. In fact, there are around 7000 known species of the assassin bug and not all of them impact fatefully upon humans.

Actually, now that I have found out a little about assassin bugs, I realise that there is a whole lot more to know and no doubt there are entomologists who devote years to studying them. However, you will be delighted to learn that I have decided not to follow that path.

An assassin bug may use the corpses of its victims as camouflage

September

Picture from June 2017

I was quite pleased with myself today because I managed to mow our bottom lawn. Yesterday was grey and wet but today there was a break in current weather systems. To my surprise, not a drop of rain fell. At one thirty or thereabouts, I manoeuvred my sturdy electric "Bosch" mower from our underhouse and cracked on with the job.

Here in England, grass tends to grow very little indeed after the end of September but if your lawn is to be short throughout the winter, you need to get it cut when it is dry enough. If not, you will have scraggy grass till spring comes round again.

It takes me over an hour to mow our bottom lawn and this afternoon I had to carry six filled grass boxes to the pile near our compost bins. There was a 20% chance of rain at around 1600 hrs but it never came. In the winter months it will be nice to look out on a grassy sward that has the appearance of a bowling green. Privet hedges don't grow in the wintertime either so I am pleased that I cut all of our hedging last week.

Already we have passed the autumn equinox and days are much shorter. Heavens, it is pretty much pitch dark by seven o'clock now and in the morning the sun is not up before 0700. We are at that half and half period before we plunge deeper into the darkness. Of course it is a familiar pattern.

Our lovely daughter Frances will be thirty six on Thursday. How the hell did that happen? 

She will be going on holiday with her family in early November. A week on Lanzarote in The Canary Islands. So Shirley and I have been thinking that we might go somewhere too. Perhaps to the Portuguese island of  Madeira for we have never been there before and this could be the perfect opportunity. We'll see.

And now to finish this autumnal blogpost, here's a song that Buffy Sainte-Marie released in 1971 - "Sweet September Morning". It was the year I visited Sheffield for the very first time - specifically to see her in concert at The City Hall. Back then, I never guessed for a moment that I would spend most of my adult life in this city.

And he tells you of his guiding star

And then he starts his journey to the center of your dreaming

And he knows what he knows like the trees do

And you go where he goes when he needs you to, Oh . .

Sweet September morning

When I found him in my heart, in my heart

Reindeer

Jessica Gunning plays Martha Scott in "Baby Reindeer"

Today - September 23rd 2024 - was grey and miserable - so different from last Monday. I didn't feel like going out and I have been in the house all day.

Recently, Shirley renewed our subscription to "Netflix" so I riffled through what was available and settled on the award-winning series "Baby Reindeer". It had echoes of my own experience with Sylvie that I blogged about very recently. 

I did not intend to binge-watch the entire seven part series but that is what happened this afternoon. It was a gripping, unusual show and I guess seeing all of the episodes in a row made the drama more intense - like watching a feature-length film in a pitch dark cinema.

As you know, the producers of modern day dramas will often insert songs that perhaps date the artifice or heighten the emotional impact. With "Baby Reindeer" I was a little taken aback by the number of songs that meant something to me - most notably the closing song which was "Farewell, Farewell" by Fairport Convention. It was sung by Sandy Denny whose grave I went to visit in February of this year.

The stalker was Martha Scott brilliantly played by Yorkshire-born actress Jessica Gunning. She comes across as mentally deranged and indeed had previously been in prison for obsessive stalking. In the show, she latches on to a young barman and failed comedian called Donny Dunn played by Richard Gadd who wrote "Baby Reindeer".

Apparently, when Martha Scott was a girl she had a cute toy reindeer. She claims that Donny reminded her of this toy figure and hence made "Baby Reindeer" his nickname. She pursues him mercilessly and manically, refusing to let go over a period of two years. She bombards him with e-mails and keeps turning up like a bad penny.

At the end there is no real resolution. There is the possibility of her reappearing but in any case, Donny Dunn has kind of been worn down by her. A strange sort of closeness has developed as if her relentless pursuit has somehow affirmed his existence.

Richard Gadd plays Donny Dunn in "Baby Reindeer"

Anne

The famous song, "Snowbird" was not composed by Anne Murray but, if you will excuse the pun,  she gave it wings. It was actually written by another Canadian - Gene MacLellan - who tragically killed himself in 1995.

Multi-award winning Anne Murray is now seventy nine years old, residing back in her home province of Nova Scotia. For some reason that song - "Snowbird" came into my mind this morning and refused to leave so I knew I had just had to include it in a blogpost.

Gene MacLellan was inspired to write "Snowbird" while observing a flock of snow buntings on a Prince Edward Island beach. Essentially, he presented the song to Anne Murray in 1970 and gave her licence to use it as she would. It became her breakthrough single and was a surprise hit in the USA.

Spread your tiny wings and fly away

And take the snow back with you 

Where it came from on that day

The one I love forever is untrue

And if I could you know that I would fly away with you

Yeah, if I could I know that I would fly away with you...

Anne Murray was not really known as a writer of songs but as an interpreter, a re-developer. Long ago, she alerted me to a song by Kenny Loggins called "Danny's Song". After learning it, I used to sing it with gusto. Like "Snowbird" it is from the very early seventies...

And even though we ain't got money

I'm so in love with you, honey

And everything will bring a chain of love, oh, oh, oh

And in the morning, when I rise

You bring a tear of joy to my eyes

And tell me everything is gonna be alright

Thank heavens for Anne Murray - one of several great Canadian songsters even though the songs she sang were not her own. In that sense she was rather like Elvis Presley - a singer rather than a writer but what's wrong with that? They both gave a lot of people a lot of pleasure.

Apalachicola

Papa Joe's, Apalachicola

At Eastertime in 2002, I took my family on their first American trip. 

Starting from Atlanta, we headed down to Florida. I had booked three nights in the "Best Western" hotel in Apalachicola. It is a sleepy coastal town of some 2,400 people, famed for its oysters.  It boasted just one set of traffic lights. We loved being there.

On the first evening we walked half a mile from our hotel to what is now called "The Up To No Good Tavern" though it wasn't called that then. I recall the friendly proprietor appearing gobsmacked when I told her that we had not driven from the "Best Western" to dine - we had  simply walked down. The crazy English!

Up To No Good Tavern, Apalachicola

The next day we headed out to one of the offshore islands. There's a causeway across to St George Island which is sandy and low-lying - a thin sliver of land that reaches about  twenty five miles across Apalachicola Bay. We headed to the state park at the far east of the island where we hung out on the beach and played in the sea for less than two hours. Remember we were still in the month of March but both Ian and I absorbed too much sunshine that day.

On the way back to our hotel, we stopped off at the "Piggly Wiggly" supermarket for a large hot pizza and cold drinks. I guess that it was only when we got back to our room that the effects of the afternoon sunshine properly began to kick in. Ian and I were both zonked out and woozy but Shirley and Frances had spent much of their time in the shade so they were okay.

"The Best Western", Apalachicola

The next day we visited Cape San Blas and Panama City and that night we paid a special visit to Papa Joe's Oyster Bar on the edge of our adopted town. Sadly it is now permanently closed but that night we enjoyed fresh and simply prepared cooked oysters with fries, salad and beer. I remember a huge pile of oyster shells outside the kitchen door - like a model of Mount Fuji.

I loved Apalachicola - even though we were only there for a little while. It seemed like a place where land and sea merged together and it was so peaceful - right out there on the edge of things. People have sometimes asked me what my favourite place in America is and I nearly always say "Apalachicola". I guess that if I had experienced the town in the very height of a sweltering Florida summer, I might have thought differently.

From Apalachicola we headed on down to Orlando and Disneyworld but that's another story. The last three images were snipped from Google Streetview. Little seems to have changed in the past twenty two years.

St George Island beach

One-liners

⦿ My wife says she wants another baby - I'm so glad because I also really don't like the first one.

⦿ A new study recently found that humans eat more bananas than monkeys. It's true. I can't remember the last time I ate a monkey.

⦿ I just read that in New York, someone gets stabbed every 52 seconds. Poor guy.

⦿ My parents raised me as an only child, which really pissed off my sister.

⦿ I have a stepladder because my real ladder left when I was five.

⦿ I have many jokes about unemployed people – sadly none of them work.

⦿ Don't ever think you're completely useless. You can always be used as a bad example.

⦿ I made a website for orphans. It doesn’t have a home page.

⦿ The other day, my girlfriend asked me to pass her her lipstick but I accidentally passed her a glue stick. She still isn't talking to me.

⦿ The cemetery is so crowded. People are just dying to get in.

⦿ I childproofed my house today. Somehow, they still got in.

⦿ My daughter asked me how stars die. "Usually an overdose," I told her.

⦿ The guy who stole my diary just died. My thoughts are with his family.

⦿ I was shocked when I found out my toaster was not waterproof.

⦿ If you think I would joke about Alzheimer’s, forget it.

⦿ My grief counsellor died. He was so good, I don’t even care.

⦿ My wife is mad that I have no sense of direction. So I packed up my stuff and right.

⦿ I'd like to have kids one day. I don't think I could stand them any longer than that though.

⦿ I've asked so many people what LGBTQ stands for. So far no one has given me a straight answer.

⦿ I was playing chess with my friend and he said, “Let’s make this interesting.” So we stopped playing chess.

⦿ My wife and I have reached the difficult decision that we do not want children. If anybody does, please just send me your contact details and we can drop them off tomorrow.

⦿ I visited my friend at his new house. He told me to make myself at home. So I threw him out. I hate having visitors.

⦿ My wife says making love is even better on holiday. I wish she didn’t tell me via email.

⦿ I went to the restaurant last night, and I asked the waiter how they prepare their chicken. "Nothing special," he explained. "We just tell them they're going to die."

⦿ I got fired from the calendar factory. All I did was take a day off.

⦿ I stayed up all night and tried to figure out where the sun was. Then it dawned on me.

⦿ To the person who stole my copy of Microsoft Office, I will find you. You have my word.

⦿ My wife and I laugh about how competitive we are. But I laugh more.

⦿ My grandfather lost his tongue during The Vietnam War. He never talks about it.

Have you got any others you care to share?

Quiztime

It's "Quiztime" once again with more questions to tease you. This week, your genial host will be giving you a helping hand by providing multiple-choice answers for each question. As usual, the correct answers will be given in  the "Comments" section. Please don't despair if you score zero. After all, there are more important things in life than quizzing - though for the life of me I can't think what they are.

⦿

1. Who was this figure from European history?

(a) Benito Mussolini (b) Bernard Montgomery 

(c) Francisco Franco (d) Heinrich Himmler

2. Who was this American film star (1916-1973)?

(a) Marilyn Monroe (b) Betty Grable (c) Joan Crawford (c) Lana Turner

3. This man was a member of The Rolling Stones. He died in 1969 but who was he?

(a) Mick Taylor (b) Ian Stewart (c)  Andrew Oldham  (d) Brian Jones

4. Which French artist painted this picture in 1891?

(a) Paul Gauguin (b) Pierre-Auguste Renoir (c) Paul Cézanne (d) Edgar Degas

5. Which South American country does this flag belong to?

(a) Chile (b) Venezuela (c) Surinam (d) Bolivia 

6. Who is this cartoon character?

(a) Sylvester (b) The Cat in the Hat (c) Top Cat (d) Mr Whiskers

7. Name this African mammal.

(a) bat-eared fox (b) mongoose (c) caracal (d) African wild dog

8. This is the shape of which Asian country?

(a) China (b) Vietnam (c) Brunei (d) Sri Lanka

9. What is Kamala Harris's husband's first name?

(a) Ronald  (b) Donald (c) Douglas (d) Michelangelo

10. In which European country will you find the city of Ludwigsburg?

(a) Switzerland (b) Germany (c) Czech Republic (d) Austria
⦿

Okay. That's it. How did you do?

Returnees

It took me far too long to read it but I have finally finished "The Soldier's Return" by Melvyn Bragg. It is a novel laced with autobiographical elements and as the title might suggest, it's about a soldier who has returned from war. Specifically, Sam Richardson has come back to Cumberland in the northwest of England from wartime in Burma where he witnessed unspeakable things.

He tries to settle back into his old life with his young wife Ellen and their little son Joe who was but a baby when World War II was declared. Sam is restless and bad-tempered, finding it hard to pick up where he left off. He comes close to running away to Australia but abandons that plan at the very last minute, clearing the way for a sequel.

I could go into detail about the plot but I won't bore you with that. Suffice it to say that I found the book all rather slow-moving and frustrating. I wanted to slap the writer and say,  "Come on! Let's move on!" The language was well-chosen and there were some well-crafted passages but I didn't think that the novel convincingly peeled away the layers of the soldier's psychology nor did it really bring out Ellen's internal struggles.

It was as if Melvyn Bragg didn't quite know where he was going with it nor how he was going to get there.

⦿

It made me think of an earlier war - World War One and two young soldiers who came back to Yorkshire from The Battle of the Somme. They were my paternal and maternal grandfathers - Philip and Wilfred. They did not know each other but they were on the same hellish battlefield and as I say, they both survived. I have often wondered what they brought home with them - after the terrible things they had witnessed.

Surely it would have been nigh on impossible to close that chapter of their lives and simply move on. Between July and November 1916 over 300,000 men were killed at The Somme and a further million suffered significant  injuries. The number who suffered severe mental traumas is not recorded.

Melvyn Bragg is a well-known British TV presenter

and author of "The Soldier's Return"

Pleasley

Sunny in mid-September. This often happens in northern England.

I spotted somewhere I could take a long circular walk, containing some map squares that I had not bagged before. It only took me forty five minutes to get over there - to a village called Pleasley just west of Mansfield. The first part of the name is pronounced just like the "pleas..." in "pleasure".

With boots on I set off, crossing farmland on paths and empty lanes till I reached the village of Skegby. Like Pleasley, it was also once a coal mining community. The transportation of coal required railways but when the coal mines closed those railways were no longer required. Now they are often leisure tracks for walking, running or cycling.

Such a track will take you directly back from Skegby to Pleasley - about three miles. 

View of Newbound Mill from the old railway

My body had carried me in comfort for the first four miles of the walk but as I proceeded along the former railway my left heel became tender - not for the first time. I wouldn't say I was in real pain but I noticed every footstep and frustratingly this keeps happening.

There was a time, not so long ago, when I could walk for hours without feeling any aches and pains. Perhaps I was simply lucky. Maybe some cushioning insoles in my boots  will help. I'll try that.

But anyway, I enjoyed today's ramble in the sunshine. The world around me was in technicolour and it felt good to be alive, seeing sights I have not seen before, plodding onward until another circle was closed.

"The Nook" - palatial house in Skegby

St Andrews Church of England School, Skegby

Manor Farm, Skegby (17th century)

Guidepost near Penniment House Farm

Name change in Pleasley

Truth

We have the absurd prospect of a crazy man getting back into The White House. This is a person for whom truth is utterly flexible. Not only did he lie about Haitians in Springfield, Ohio but when his lies were immediately exposed he just doubled down on them. His hardcore MAGA supporters follow his example - not giving a damn about truth - as if it were just an irritating inconvenience.

I often read letters from readers to the editor of "The Los Angeles Times". Last week the newspaper published this letter from an aggrieved immigrant who took an ironic but effective swing at The Republican Party's presidential candidate.

⦿

To the editor: 

Former President Trump, you are right. Vice President Kamala Harris allowed us immigrants to come to this country illegally with millions of others so that we would vote for her.

When my insane asylum was emptied back home and my violent husband was let out of prison, we were happy to start again in a new country. Harris supported us having transgender surgery while we were staying at the luxury asylum center, generously paid for by U.S. taxpayers.

In gratitude, we want to give back to this country in any way we can. My husband is out now selling drugs to schoolkids and, by the way, has cut back on rapes and murders. I am grateful too and when I sell my cookbook, “Yummy Dog and Cat Recipes,” I will send the proceeds to abortion clinics so they can continue to execute newborn babies.

You will see — we are hard workers.

Andrea Ehrgott, Topanga

⦿

Once upon a time, truth mattered to politicians operating within democratic boundaries in the name of democracy. But that rambling old man murders truth in the full knowledge that his brainwashed flock will continue to follow him. Sometimes it seems that all we can do it is to shake our heads in disbelief - or as Bob would say to his fellow Americans - VOTE BLUE!

Notes

This is a song and a story from the north east of England - specifically the city of Sunderland and even more specifically The Wearmouth Bridge. It was there in 2018 that an eighteen year old girl called Paige Hunter wrestled with the possibility of killing herself.

At the age of fourteen, she had been raped by a stranger and ever after she lived in mental torment. Standing on that bridge she was coaxed  down by two men in a van. In effect they saved her life.

In the years that have followed, Paige has regularly returned to the  bridge in order to tie tiny notes to the structure - notes that encourage potentially suicidal people to stop and think again.

A local band called The Young 'Uns picked up Paige's story and turned it into a song called "Tiny Notes". This video gives a taste of the song as well as an interview with Paige Hunter. I guess a lot of suicides could be thwarted by kindness - by people reaching out. Very often you don't need to die - there's a way forward for those who live with despair...

Firmament

The Northern Lights

Once in while, British news agencies will announce that something quite exciting is about to happen in the night sky. It might be a shower of meteors, a partial eclipse, an alignment of planets or maybe a glimpse of the northern lights above The North Pole - dancing as though in a discotheque.

Experience has taught me not to get very excited about these astral phenomena. Any time I have ever been out to look, my quest has ended miserably. Maybe it was to do with cloud cover, poor timing or simply failing to look in the correct segment of the night sky. Anyway, success has always eluded me.

Normally, I don't bother any more but on Friday night after Hull City had capitulated to Sheffield United live on Sky Sports, I decided to drive up to the moors beyond Ringinglow. The TV people had half promised that The Northern Lights might be visible in darkness, unpolluted by urban lighting.

So there I was, in blackness,  standing by my faithful car Clint looking towards the northern skies at 22.30 hrs.. There was light out there  but nothing that might resemble the famous natural light show. I tried to take some photographs but it was hopeless as you can see from my surreal picture which quite ironically I have titled "The Northern Lights".

In future, I think I will be best just ignoring any news about the heavens above. Instead, I will simply look up from time to time to see what I can see. I don't need any names or signs, co-ordinates or constellations. After all, the beauty of a clear night sky in velvet darkness is enough on its own. Stars behind stars reaching as far back as we  can imagine. One of the amazing sights that looks upon us as we progress through these very short lives.

Goodness

Good news needs spreading around. There's too much bad news these days. I am sure that several visitors  will have heard this news item from Nashville, Tennessee. It happened on Tuesday evening and it involved the rock star - Jon Bov Jovi.

He and his band were filming on The Seigenthaler Pedestrian Bridge when they became aware that a woman in a distressed state was standing on the bridge's parapet threatening to jump.

Jon Bon Jovi and his assistant sidled up to the scene and gently set about talking the woman to safety. Fortunately, they succeeded and afterwards the rock star comforted the woman with a warm hug.

I should say that at its highest point the bridge is only sixteen feet tall so it is very likely that the woman would not have been killed it she had jumped. Her mind must have been in a terrible state of confusion. In fact, looking at her blue outfit, I wonder if she had recently been under medical supervision.

My impression is that Jon Bon Jovi is one of the good guys. He has done various other kind and charitable things in his life as a rock star - including improving housing projects, supporting veterans, funding soup kitchens for the needy and raising money for disaster relief in Haiti.

Good lad Jon! You didn't walk on by.