Deception

In the Garden of Gethsemane

Amongst the olive trees

You had supper with friends

It was to be your last

You were deceived

The mob ruled, you were degraded,

Insulted and layed upon

They led you through the streets

Uphill to Calgary

Nailing you upon a cross

You shed your blood for us

Dying for our sins

Giving your body

Gifting us forgiveness

And eternal life

Oh Brother!

    Siblings Day is today and if you haven't heard of it before, join the club. It's a day to celebrate your brothers and sisters and while I think the bond I have with my brothers should be celebrated, I'm not so sure if it's just another money-spinning idea.

    I am the oldest in the family and I can honestly say that when we were kids, there were times they were the most annoying individuals I had to contend with. I know the feeling was mutual, even although I was perfect.

    Seriously though, now we're all grown up I do appreciate the strong bond we have. Even if we haven't seen or spoken for a while, when we meet up it seems we were together the day before. Conversation flows, no holds barred.

    Recently, I was lucky enough to spend a few days away with one of them and it was wonderful. It was fantastic to relax in each others company and catch-up.

    Is one day enough to set aside to celebrate our siblings? No, if we are lucky enough to have brothers and sisters, we should make time regularly to acknowledge our tie, no matter where we are or what we are doing.



P.S.
There is no family resemblance to the little family in the picture!

    

   

A Mountain to Climb

  

 
    Today, another page is written in our history books. We the readers know, who the major players and victims are; however, we cannot accurately guess, at what the ending might be. Because, unlike fiction there is no author to dictate as to how the story will end.

    We watch the millions of displaced people who find themselves in agonising circumstances, online, on TV and in our news feeds, as they try to escape from their abusers, every day.

    Watching a programme recently, filmed inside one of the refugee camps on the Turkish border, I couldn't help but be surprised at the resilience of these people.

    Former shop-keepers have set up stalls selling essentials, women go about the business of buying food to feed their families, the make-shift barber shops buzz with customers and the children play. The population make the best of what they have and the situation they find themselves in.

    They are not living in a materialistic world, they know they have a great mountain to climb; but above all they know that having their lives is a blessing.



#NationalAllIsOursDay

Not Spinning My Wheels

    It is the view of many in the writing world, that research is an author's excuse for procrastination. It maybe that when I'm doing research I am procrastinating. However, recently I've never enjoyed dilly-dallying so much.

    For me it has been an educational journey, I've been reading the works of 19th/20th century authors and poets, of which before I have never read in any depth.

    Coincidentally, two of which are Scottish, one Australian, one American; their names being, Andrew Lang, Robert Williams Buchanan, Adam Lindsay Gordon, Joaquin Miller. The extracts from their poems I came across left me wanting to read more, so I did.

    I want to share one of the poems by fellow Scot and friend of Robert Louis Stevenson,  Andrew Lang;

Nysa 

On these Nysaen shores divine

The clusters ripen in a day.

At dawn the blossoms shreds away;

The berried grapes are green and fine

And full by noon; in days decline

They're purple with a bloom of grey,

And e'er the twilight plucked are they,

And crushed, by night fall into wine

But through the night with torch in hand

Down the dusk hills the Maenads fare;

The bull-voiced mummers roar and blare,

The muffled timbrels swell and sound,

And drown the clamour of the band

Like thunder moaning underground.

~

    Using delaying tactics, or not I'm going to keep on reading the words of the wonderful authors and poets that have filled and still exist in our world. Because reading is the key to learning at any age.

   

No Mean Feat

    For many people reading is difficult all through their school years and adult life. They face a continual, uphill battle. I know how inconvenient it is to go shopping, or reading food preparation instructions, when I don't have my reading glasses at hand. But, the hindrance I'm encountering is temporary, and easily solved by slipping my glasses onto the end of my nose. Therefore, I can't imagine what it is really like to be unable to read.

    On morning television recently there was an eighty-seven year old woman who read a passage from her favourite book; while there isn't anything too surprising about that, it was an admirable feat for this lady. Because, until now she had been unable to read a book.

    Like many people; throughout her life she has managed to hide her handicap from others, feeling ashamed and embarrassed at the daily obstacle she faced. Distinguishing one letter from another had been her greatest challenge and becoming muddled had deterred her. She has now been identified as having learning difficulties, and given the help that she needed to overcome her impediment.

    Being able to read is just her first step and learning to write is now on her agenda, appearing on TV in the hope to encourage others to follow in her foot-steps.

    I applaud, Ursula Shepherd, in her achievement. For those who need encouragement to follow her in learning a new skill, remember the words of, Albert Einstein, "Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new."


http://www.readingrockets.org/helping

http://www.bdadyslexia.org.uk/dyslexic
   

    

Don't Let the Grass Grow Under One's Feet

   Taking a short-cut and not following a designated foot-path; settling down on a piece of public grass with a picnic and a good book, are some of the things we've all done at one time, or another.

       
    What happens if we add that to, friends gathering in anticipation of going to hear their favourite author, or celebrity, speaking about their new book? As well as excited children, running around, enjoying their freedom in the middle of a city.

        That's what has happened over the last thirty years, in Charlotte Square Gardens, Edinburgh, when the Edinburgh Book Festival arrives in the city.

    Whether, it's high-heels, pumps, wellington boots, or even bare-feet, this ornamental garden is struggling to withstand approximately quarter of a million people trampling all over it for eighteen days.

    Therefore, this year measures are being proposed to protect this historic area. Including curtailing events within the gardens. Yes, the location is special, but Edinburgh itself is a beautiful city and I don't think it will make much difference, if other venues are included.

    After, all it's all about books and their authors.

Stories from Beyond the Grave

Atlantic Ocean

    On Wednesday I went for a walk through the churchyard of, St Michael's Parish Church, in Linlithgow, Scotland. The church sits adjacent to, Linlithgow Palace and Loch, therfore, as it was a nice day it was the ideal place to get some excercise.

View from Wyville Thomson's grave

    I know that going for a stroll through an old churchyard isn't everyone's cup of tea, however it is mine. Solely, because I think its full of interesting people; dead yes, but, interesting. Each body buried there has a story to tell.

View of Palace and Loch from grave

   Walking amongst the headstones I found that many were illegible, but  I did find one overlooking the Loch, with the name, Charles Wyville Thomson etched on it. It caught my attention because the word, Knight, was engraved beside his name. This gentleman had a story to tell.

St Michael's Church, Linlithgow, A stain glass window here is dedicated to Wyville Thomson

    He died on 10th of March 1882 at the age of fifty-two years of age, and had is knighthood bestowed upon him by, Queen Victoria in 1876 for his service to science. On the gravestone it stated that he was a Naturalist, and that he most certainly was.

    Persuading the navy to lend him two ships, removing the ships guns, replacing them with dredging, trawling and oceanography equipment, Wyville as he wanted to be called, embarked on a three-and-a-half year adventure. Taking up the post of, chief scientist on the mother ship, HMS Challenger, he covered 70,000 miles, and recorded in excess of 4,000 new species of ocean life. 

    The work he did on, The Challenger Expedition, transformed the future of oceanography. The Wyville Thomson Ridge, in the North Atlantic Ocean, between the Faroe Islands and Scotland being named after him and NASA's space shuttle, Challenger, named so in recognition of the expedition.

    His findings are documented in, Depths of the Sea, published in 1873 and The Voyage of the Challenger in the Atlantic, published two volumes in 1877.

    

   http://www.stmichaelsparish.org.uk/