A Revolutionary Act

This island I live on is long overdue a movement and I don’t mean Brexit, I mean the antithesis of Brexit!

With the potential to upset young people, neighbouring nations (and I include Ireland and Scotland in that), Brexit is already making everything feel like a grubby anorak.

Today a group of young people have instigated a march in London. 100,000 are expected to take part, asking for a vote on Brexit with the facts in place, with the solutions laid down from and by the government we have. I’d like to remind everyone that our current government is run by a minority tory party in cahoots with the dup.

Judging by the last large march on Iraq and war, it’s highly unlikely Westminster will take much notice. There’s only one way to beat ye olde colonialist laissez faire beast and that’s to lob a molotov at it!

But I’m not advocating violence, not really. Perhaps some bloody-mindedness instead. I am opposed to all that Farage, Johnson, Gove et all stand for. I am appalled that we have allowed politicians we pay for, like Cameron, to just waltz off and go on their jollies.

Farage & Co belong in the past. Do young people have to wait until they have passed away before justice is served and they enjoy the freedom and rights others before them have had.

I’m not much impressed with this island’s lowly sucking up to the likes of Farage, who is nothing but a self-serving tory wannabe toff.

I call upon a revolt by matriarchs. Every little thing you do to instigate change counts. Every thought, every thing you make, bake, talk and take.

Spread the word. The 21st century is for our young and for those who support young people.

Mother Earth and all her little babies. Children first, always.

K1 P1 K1 P1    This cute mouse can be found on Pinterest. No label though.

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Blow Me Away!

Art reflects life they say. Only today I realised that the poster I have of Egon Schiele’s Four Trees (1917) is very much like the trees outside my front window. All in a different state of losing their foliage. Three are sycamore and I call these the sisters, one is a beech (their cousin).

The dominant sycamore is still green, she refuses to turn. She may be younger, I’m not sure. I also noticed for the first time that Mother is commanding the horizon, looking on at her children.

I used to play under these trees, planted on a patch of green which once belonged to a wealthy person. The large house is now under the NHS as a mental health care unit for day visitors. I can’t remember what size the trees were over forty years ago! I do notice though that children still play there, foxes meet and mate, crows and owls communicate.

But no one from the building sits outside, ever.

Beneath the trees is the Tiger’s Tomb. Maybe the grown ups are feart!

egon schiele four trees 1917

Confessions of a lost appetite

So many things are coming to a head and amongst all the action I seem to have lost my appetite. I have decided to focus on a limited selection of fruits, breads, white fish and eggs for now and will be reading some Ottolenghi for inspiration. His Middle Eastern palate  combines sweet with savoury – it all looks delicious, and he has a new recipe book out.

It’s disappointing when you spend time making soup, pita, salads, only to find that everything smells and tastes like cardboard – like Aldi does when you walk in! It’s all the cereal boxes under the lights and lack of air conditioning. Mr Fluff however is delighted that there are healthy blueberry muffins in the house. Who ever heard of a cat eating blueberries (apparently it’s okay for them to). They are well-hidden in a sealed box after cooling.

It’s also been hard going in to work at a place where the needs of others are huge and their self absorbed attitude and behaviour is draining on a daily basis. I no longer have the capacity or patience for underpinning and supporting flailing arts organisations or boards of staid oldies who won’t do the right things to help themselves. Going round in circles and not  taking  a risk isn’t my style.

So, as they say, be the change you want to see. Constant evolving is where it’s at, there is no sitting still. In many ways I feel quite robust at the moment, not defeated, but adapting. Dry sunny autumn days call for walks where I spot all the apple and pear trees dropping their fruits and it seems no one heeds what is all around them.

Maybe it’s time for this nation to change its attitude to the meaning of life. It doesn’t exist on a supermarket shelf, a screen, or in a vat of alcohol, it’s out there.

Travel is imminent – looking forward to a change of scene.

heartstitchedbuddah