Spinning the day away

 So what has the beginning of the day brought me.  Well it has rained overnight as it might have in Camelot. Sour faced Richard Burton will tell you so!  Yesterday afternoon a half dozen spam calls from goodness knows who, my phone dealt swiftly with them, marking them up as 'suspicious spam' and I haven't even put it on my Mcfee account for protection.  There are little gods of providence out there protecting us I think.

The tories have pulled through 'Up North' though not down in the mecca of London and statistics show we would, according to the voting of the country, be under Labour control, the Greens have done well also.  Greens always do good in parochial matters.  So Johnson's fate still hangs on the balance of a thread, me I would cut it but we must wait and see what happens.

We are witness day after day to the cruelty of war, something of course history will tell you happens all the time.  Our anguish has not stopped it of course, and we fight a proxy war sending necessary weapons of war to the brave Ukranian people. We feel the pain but are one step removed from it.

Listen to music, Mozart's Clarinet Quintet,  Schubert's The Trout, as the fish tumble through the water reminding me of dancing Welsh rivers.  Listen to the cuckoo's and curlews that people bring to this clever little machine I am typing on.  The sound of the morning chorus as the strong call of light revives the presence of life in all the plants, trees and animals.  First time yesterday I heard the mating call of that funny little pig like creature, the Muntjac deer.  Stray foreign import ;)

What have I been listening to, well the Viking book has at last been finished, their blood thirsty voyages wreaking havoc wherever they went and I am now listening to Rebecca Solnit's exploration of her Irish connections in her book 'Book of Migrations'.  Let me say one thing politically, the Conservatives as a government, should be read through as to past history of 'The Famine of Ireland' and the 'Highland Clearances', only then will you see the greed and brutality that the need for power brings.

Or is it only an interpretation? In the library of books at my old home in Bath, and we had many books, there was two, whole, books on ants.  I could never quite fathom that ants had such a long history to warrant a book but they did.  We are like those ants, a tad cleverer of course, but repeating the same mistakes over and over again, following little ant roads of destruction.

Do you remember The Reader's Digest, we had this funny little magazine of tales when I was a child.  Well there was one story, when the ants were on the move in Africa, they gathered together in a huge mass and relentlessly moved through the jungle eating everything in their way.

The writer had to protect his home from them, for it stood directly in their way.  He dug a great ditch around his house but the ants just floated across on anything they could find.  A nightmarish thought.

So I spin, I make my daughter happy that I am at last content in an undertaking, like a wandering waif I am now in the bosom of my family, gathered up ;)

I have explored William Morris's 'The Unknown Church' which can be found on the Project Gutenberg site and thought about philosophers and poets, a question in Mark's (The Bike Shed) latest blog.  Answered to my own satisfaction, of course poetry is important and went off for a hunt of R.S.Thomas, that brilliantly miserable Welsh priest who captured his congregation so well.  I could name many, many poets.  Keats, Meredith, Heaney, Hughes that have locked my thoughts into their imagery and learnt from them as well, in fact like Paul, who collected poetry on stones maybe I should also try to collect favourites in another blog.  The link is here 'Megalithic Poems' for Paul's collection.