Mood Picture

 Cooper savours twilight


The Flamingos are a gag gift from my Friend Ann A





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IMPORTANT NEWS

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  TO ADVISE YOU THaT I AM UNRERGOING TREATMENTS to deal with possible/probable blood infection, arising from fairly minor surgery THUS  my Facebook page has been quite, and will be for a while The treatments are  important  but my condition is not life threatening I will be in touch when matters are improving   NO CALLS  PLEASE     NO CALLS  PLEASE  
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Rudyard Kipling Giving your heart for a Dog to Tear ON THE DEATH OF A DOG

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  T here is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and women to fill our day; And when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we a lways arrange for more? Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear. Buy a pup and your money will buy Love unflinching that cannot lie— Perfect passion and worship fed By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head. Nevertheless it is hardly fair To risk your heart for a dog to tear. When the fourteen years which Nature permits Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits, And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs To lethal chambers or loaded guns, Then you will find—it’s your own affair— But … you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear. When the body that lived at your single will, With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!). When the spirit that answered your every mood Is gone—wherever it goes—for good, You will discover how much you care, And will give your heart to a dog to tear. We’ve sorrow enough in the n...
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  This is not about the fabulous choral and orchestral music at Fairfield Grammar School under W.J. "Dickie" Richards.   I will write about that at length in due course. Today I write about the great choir music at Eastville Junior Mixed School under another Richards (Sydney). Here we are at the local Eastville Park in 1954.  I am third from the left in the second row. Bright eyed Fairfieldians will spot Clive Hargett, third from left in the third row. Two from me is the Headmaster Mr. Lews? who in his spare time was an amateur boxing referee, Next to him is Syd Richard's wife, our choir pianist. There there is Syd himself. We were good.  So good that we recorded for the BBC at the old Empire Theatre in Old Market (torn down in that blight called urban renewal). We were prepped about the Green Room etc.  I encountered a Men's Urinal for the first time -  Dad explained it to me when I got home. I can't remember what we sang.   I do rememb...
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