Life gets better with a tutu on your head

A tutu improves most things in life, in fact!

Flow x

Sent from my HTC

Don't worry, be happy... and the grand-daddy of beatboxing should know!

You won't be surprised to hear that Bobby McFerrin's 1980s hit single Don't worry, be happy is already in my collection of Bouncy Happy Tunes. Few songs are as cheering and chilled as this one!

But I'd never listened to any of his other music, until last night when I casually clicked on the Bobby McFerrin YouTube playlist. And what a revelation. I'm not a music critic, and the only words I can find are inadequate cliches like "Wow" and "Oh. My. God", so I won't even try. If you don't already know this music, just click on some of the links and listen.




Even if you do know some of McFerrin's music, you may not have made a connection between it and beatboxing - one of the most amazing music forms - a sort of awe-inspiring acapella hip-hop. Back in 2008 I enthused here about ReepsOne, a young beatboxer who left me joyfully stunned when I listened to him making his mouth-music in my friend's sitting room. ReepsOne won the UK Beatboxing championship the next year, but of course there was no such competition back in the '80s. Yet listen to Bobby McFerrin's version of Blackbird above, and you'll see he's obviously the funky grand-daddy of beatboxing!

How can people possibly make such unbelievable, beautiful sounds with only their voices?!

Flow x

Peace police, don't hurt the kids

It's going to be harder than usual to be positive tonight. I'm recovering from flu', which means I've had a lousy week... But worse, the news of the student 'riots' in London tonight is upsetting.

It plunges me straight back into memories of the Poll Tax demo in 1990, when tens of thousands of people marched to protest against the huge new charges we were all being expected to pay.

I was there. I was with my friend Carolyn and her baby in a pushchair, so when things started to turn from joyful to nasty, we left, and went to wait for our friends in a cafe. We were all due to catch a coach back to our north-of-England university town.

It took a long time for our friends to arrive. In fact some of them didn't make the coach. But over the next few hours, most of us gathered and shared experiences. I was young. I was naive. My friends saw some shocking things, and hearing about what they'd seen shook my middle-class complacency badly.

Almost everyone described how they'd felt to be 'kettled': trapped in Trafalgar Square and not allowed to get out, then squashed into a smaller and smaller space as the police squeezed in. It was scary, basically, and definitely dangerous.

Then, worse, one friend sat in a section of the crowd that was staging a peaceful sit-down protest ... and couldn't get up in time when mounted police charged ... and the woman next to him had her shoulder crushed ... and he held her until the ambulance arrived.

Two other friends saw a police van drive into a 'kettled' crowd at speed ... hook a woman on its bumper ... and drag her several hundred yards down the road while people yelled at them to stop.

As I say, what I heard was shocking. But even more shocking was the news coverage. We got home and turned on our TV, to see the events we'd witnessed described as 'riots', with no mention at all of the police's own role in the violence. I was young. I was naive. My belief that the police or the media 'served the people' was dead.

These were the days before the internet, remember, so there was no YouTube. The 'other side of the story' only came out months later, in a couple of little pamphlets printed by small anarchist publishers. It never hit the mainstream media at all.

But the world is different now.

Tonight's violence is shocking, and the BBC - disappointingly - has repeated the mistake it made in 1990 and presented a simplistic, anti-protester view: the students were angry about higher fees so they rioted.

But as first-hand accounts of the student protest begin to hit YouTube, it's already clear that 'riot' isn't the whole story: the police and the BBC may be slow to realise this, but the streets today were full of mobile phones with cameras...

It looks like the demo started with a nice enough atmosphere ... Then the police started using horses ... And they used fences to push people back ... Then it got dark and it all got a bit scarier ... And this vid shows what happened a couple of weeks ago, which maybe explains why – and how – things got nasty tonight.

You can see why I'm struggling to find a positive side to all this.

But here's it is...

All those people posting their own little snippets of video care about the way today's demo is represented. These people know the 'mainstream' view paints only half the picture, and they've taken the time to add their own little daub of paint to the 'other side'.

All of us should care enough to ask whether the police are behaving acceptably - or even sensibly - here. My own answer is 'no': I can't for the life of me see how it can be OK to trap people into a confined space, let alone charge horses into a crowd of children.

But if you need more persuasion, the two linked videos here and here show why the right to demonstrate is so important. Bless this guy Radfax, as he goes on and on and on saying "peace police" and "don't hurt the kids".

When we were kids, and we came home complaining about the way the police had behaved, our parents didn't believe us. Now many of us are parents, and we know it's true: too often the police behave badly at demos.

It's time for the grown-ups stand up and say so.



Flow x

Jitterbugging Angels

Here's a little bit of wisdom for you boys and girls, on this fickle Sunday morning:

"Philosophers have argued for centuries about how many angels can dance on the head of a pin, but materialists have known all along it depends on whether they are jitterbugging or dancing cheek to cheek".

These are words from that go-going gaga guru Tom Robbins, not me. (And before anyone takes offense at my choice of adjective, look up gaga and see how I chose it 'cos it's apposite as well as alliterative!) It's one of his many insights that I wish I could claim were mine.

And now I must return to my grouting...

Airplanes and red shoes

Let's start with a riddle: What do aeroplanes, sugarlumps and red dancing shoes have in common?

No, sorry, you can't have the answer yet.

This blog is all about aeroplanes, and some worries I have...

Now don't get me wrong, I love flying. Rollercoasters and football matches do nothing for me: when I'm looking for excitement, the buzz is best when that juddering aircraft leaves the tarmac, and I'm flying off to somewhere new and exciting. And as for the feeling I get when I'm up in the sky looking down on the clouds. Well, if you ask me, it's quite obviously magic, and it's marvellous!

But a friend sent me this video, and it has made me think that maybe we're doing just a little bit too much flying. Have a quick look at it before you read on (if you haven't already) so you'll know what I'm talking about...

Now, at one level, I think the video is rather beautiful. It reminds me of other things, like ripples and magnetic field patterns and the dances that bees do to find their way home. But these are aeroplanes, not bees.

Do you know how many flights there are, globally, each day or each year? Go on, have a guess...

The most reliable source I could find on t'interweb said there were 77 million flights in 2008, and numbers are rising. 77 million each year?! That's about 211,000 flights each day! And there were 4.874 billion passengers... Which, frankly, is such a BIG number that my poor brain can't even process it.

Now, I could go off on all sorts of interesting diversions about global economics ('cos this many passengers equals one hell of big pile of dollars, dunnit?!) and international development inequalities ('cos look at how the flight-paths predominantly zoom in and out of the US and Europe) ... But the big question this video has raised for me is about saturation.

Saturation, I hear you say. What, if you please, is saturation? Or rather (given that my readers are educated people) what on earth has saturation got to do with air traffic?!

Let me explain myself...

Saturation is what you get when you try to add too much of something to something else. So, you can add sugarlumps to tea, and go on adding them for a long time, making your tea sweeter and sweeter... But there comes a point where your tea can't absorb anything else; and if you go on trying to add sugar, it won't dissolve, and you'll get a lumpy mess. You see, the tea has reached its 'sugar saturation point', and it just can't take any more.

There are lots of other examples where a little bit of something is fine, but too much is not. The odd whisky (or wine or beer or whatever your tipple) is great, but too much alcohol becomes a problem. And a little bit of food down the plughole is OK when you are washing up, but half a plateful will block your pipes!

I suppose I'm worried that we might just have reached our 'aeroplane saturation point'. At least, I'd like to know what or where this point is. Perhaps 55 million planes a year was OK, but 77 million isn't. Or perhaps 78 million is OK, but 79 million will be too many. Do you get my drift? It would be useful to know, wouldn't it, just how many aeroplanes the planet can cope with.

Now, at the risk of getting all earnest here, maybe we should be asking the same question about everything we do, at a personal and global level. Basically, the question is, how much is enough?

Do you know The Red Shoes fairytale? I may tell you more about it another time, but for now, all you need to know is that the central character loved her red shoes so much that she wore them too often, and went dancing in them when she shouldn't have, and then couldn't stop dancing until someone cut off her feet with an axe.

And that, in a nutshell, is what aeroplanes, sugarlumps and red dancing shoes have in common. When it comes to things we like, we're not good at knowing when enough is enough.

And no, I'm not being puritanical.

You know I have an interest in go-going with the flow, dontcha? Well, so, I'm not saying don't dance; I'm saying we need to know when to stop, if we want to go-go with joy. Dance all night if you like, but make sure you can stop when you want, without needing someone to chop your feet off!

So if any of you know how to work out the global aeroplane saturation point, please let the rest of us know!

Flow x

wild about swimming!

I'm feeling very happy this evening. Mmmmm.

Why? 'Cos I have been swimming here today - and yesterday too - making the most of the fabulous weather we've had this weekend!

'Wild' swimming is one of my top pleasures in life.

There's not much more I can say about this, really, 'cos the joy is all in sensations not words. But I will say this: if you haven't swim in a lake or paddled your toes in a stream recently DO IT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!

Flow x

P.S. If anyone is thinking that it looks a little bit autumnal in this pic, you're right. It's an old one... When I go down here on a summer's day, I'm much too busy swimming to be taking photos!

The electronic locker room

I need to start by saying: I am a woman. If you don’t already know this, it is important that you should, for reasons I’ll explain in a moment.

I know, infuriating, aren’t I? Sorry.

I’m waffling a bit, because I’m afraid this could be the most redundant blog post ever written. You’re here on Blogger, aren’t you, so the chances are you’re on Facebook too, and quite possibly other online places like Twitter and MySpace and YouTube and Flickr and Wordpress. There’s probably not much I can tell you about the online world that you don’t already know.

We like to hang out online these days, don't we, keeping in touch with old friends and making new ones. Social networking, it's called... Though you probably already knew that!

I wonder, though ... Have you ever thought about social networking and gender? About the different ways that men and women use sites like Facebook and Twitter?

I’m sure there’s a Ph.D. in the subject, but don’t worry, I’m not going to pretend to be erudite here. I just want to share a few idle and unscientific thoughts…

I joined Twitter a few weeks ago. (If you’re interested, and you haven’t already found me, you can follow me @gogowiththeflow). And being a thoughtful and reflective sort, I noticed fairly soon that most of my followers are men. It’s not that I don’t have women friends – I do – it’s just that hardly any of them are on Twitter. They’re all hanging out on Facebook.

I was interested in this apparent gender difference, so I started looking for some figures. And it’s

Officially True that Facebook has more women users than men. It’s much harder to be sure about Twitter, because you’re not asked to identify your gender there, so anyone who tries to work it out has to guess from the usernames.

(Would you have guessed I was female from the name @gogowiththeflow? What about @scribblemoose? Or @syzygy or @steeluloid or @irevdrdab?)

Anyway, that’s a diversion… My point is this: It seems to me that Facebook is as full of female chat as my corner coffee shop, while Twitter is a sort of electronic men's locker-room!

There's another difference too: the people who are my Facebook friends are (mostly) my real-life friends and neighbours. But on Twitter, my followers are much more likely to be people I know through work or even total strangers. So while idle chat is going on in both places, it has a different audience: the Tweets I see tend to be updates, information and fairly neutral comments about what's going on, all self-policed to make them 'safe' for any audience; while the Facebook status updates seem much more intimate.

Then a colleague of mine made an interesting observation. He's off to a conference soon, where he'll meet lots of people he's previously 'met' through Twitter, and he'll be able to start conversations with them easily because he knows something about their lives. And it reminded me that men have always been comfortable linking their work lives and their social lives in this way - building relationships in smoke-filled clubs and in five-a-side football teams.

While the women I know usually keep their work lives and their home lives very carefully separate.

Now I've crossed this line, and people who are my collegues and acquaintances but not my friends know something about my personal interests and my weekend pursuits. It's not entirely comfortable to be hanging out in the electronic locker room ... But at least I can't smell any sweat!


Flow x


P.S. I dunno whether this is just a strange peculiarity, true only for my friends and followers, or whether it’s true for you lot too. Let me know what you think!

Money can't buy you love-or votes!

Just a little thought here: BBC Radio 4 told me yesterday that the Tories received £1.46 million in donations in the first week of this election campaign, and the Lib Dems received £20K... If we assume the donations are all being spent on campaigning (oh, and we do the maths), we can see that each percentage point of support is costing the LibDems (on 30 percent) about £665 and the Tories (on 33 percent) more than 66 times as much!

I had a dream!

No, I'm afraid it wasn't as profound as Martin Luther King's dream; it was a real, mundane dream, about an hour ago. And it woke me up.

Other people's dreams are pretty boring, so I'll paraphrase... I was writing an outline for a new TV series. But I there were other people around and I was due to go out somewhere, so I there were too many distractions to write. Plus I needed to get my younger son to hurry up, and I couldn't, so I was going to miss whatever it was I was supposed to be going out to do. It all led to pretty familiar feelings of frustration. Life getting in the way of art, again!

When I woke, feeling rather disgruntled, I spent quite a few minutes trying to remember the details of the TV outline so I could write it down - now that all the distractions had stopped. It didn't really dawn on me that it had all been a dream until I was awake enough to realise that there was nothing, really, to remember.

I was in a bad mood because mundane things had stopped me from doing something I wanted to do, but which I hadn't really been doing anyway!

Hang on to that thought for a moment...

Anyway, Ladles and Jellyspoons, you will have noticed that I have been away for Quite Some Time. I could give you an-elephant-ate-my-homework type of explanation, but other people's excuses are just as boring as other people's dreams, so I won't. I'll just say that I have been in a Bad Mood.

This Bad Mood has lasted a long time (and it hasn't quite gone away yet, but never mind that for now). At the root of it, I realise, is frustration that mundane things have stopped me doing things I want to do. Ha - deja vu!

The things I want to do (the important ones that I'm not managing anyhow) are writing, swimming outdoors and enjoying some sunshine. But somehow other things have got in the way - things like earning money, housework, newly-diagnosed arthritis and rain.

The trouble is that after a while of not doing things for very good reasons, you get out of the habit of doing them. Then you feel frustrated about not doing things you want to do, although you are making no effort at all to do them anyway!

So... I haven't been go-going with the flow, I've been sort of limping along with the flow. Time to kick myself up the arse!

Anyway, I've done a bit of writing, and now the sun is up, so I'm off.

'Til later...

Flow x

P.S. You'll notice I've had some fun with this silly-but-clever fake newspaper creating tool!

Pucker up!

This sign recently appeared at a Warrington station. Civic leaders say kissing there "causes car park congestion".

Spoil sports! We need more love and affection in this world, not less, and I say smooching is worth a bit of a wait.

So wherever you are, strike a blow for the freedom of Warrington lovers. Go on: pucker up today!


Flow x

Imbolc is my favourite festival - a real celebration of optimism!

For those of you who don't know, Imbolc is a traditional Celtic festival, marking the beginning of spring. In our village, people celebrate with a fantastic fire show, with fire-swingers and other performers, including singers, drummers and dark Foxes who dance with fire. And at the climax of the spectacle, the Green Man battles Jack Frost - and always wins! - so that spring can arrive.

But since Imbolc is traditionally held at the beginning of February, spring is usually still a long way off. This year, snow began to fall here on the first of February, and by the night of the fire festival, it lay thick on the ground. I love the way everyone carries on and celebrates the arrival of spring, whatever the weather! The fireworks and performance are symbolic: there's light shining bright despite the dark, there's celebration and fun at a time of year that's generally pretty miserable, and there's promise of much better times to come.

Flow x

A year in 40 seconds

It's almost the end of January, and I haven't posted on this blog for nearly three weeks. I hope you haven't missed me too much!

The weeks have whizzed by. Whatever your age, you will probably have noticed that time seems to pass faster and faster each year. I have always believed that's because we experience the passing days as a proportion of our lives so far: when you are four, a year is a quarter of your life; but when you are forty, it is only a fortieth.

Oops!

I was just about to wax all philosophical - or maybe even scientifical - about perceptions of time, but I caught myself before I began to waffle too much! The bottom line is, time is unpredictable: it depends on us, our moods and the people we spend it with ... in weird ways. Certain places seem to have their own time zones, too: time generally seems to move faster in bed, for instance; and classrooms and hospital waiting rooms are often Go Slow Zones.

We have all experienced an hour that has felt like a lifetime, and a year that has passed in about 40 seconds - like this video.

Did you know that Steven Hawkins says this, in his book A Brief History of Time:

"Disorder increases with time because we measure time
in the direction in which disorder increases."

Which seems to suggest that, if only we expected less chaos, time might move backwards! Perhaps we should try it? A sort of og-og with the flow?!

Flow x

Will YOU buy a ticket for the Atheist Bus Campaign?

Before I start (while we're all still waiting at the bus stop, so to speak) I have a small apology for those of you who believe in God. I don't want to offend you, and I'm pretty sure that if you read all the way to the end of this post you'll agree that I haven't, but you may start out feeling a little uncomfortable. So I'm sorry.

Have you heard about the Atheist Bus Campaign that is currently running in the UK? Funded by donations from the public - all across the country, from London to Leeds and Aberdeen to Exeter - buses are appearing with posters on their sides which read:

"There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life."

Now, I don't want to start a debate about whether or not God exists. I wouldn't like to say one way or the other. I question everything, and I tend to keep on questioning, even after I think I have the answers; I long ago stopped believing in 'objective truth', because over the years, I have come to realise that even cast-iron facts have a habit of changing when you look at them long enough, or sideways. So when it come to The God Question, to paraphrase Eva Bowring, a US Senator in the 50s (and thanks to Karen K for the original quotation!) - "I'm going to sit on the fence, until I find where the gates are".

No, what particularly appeals about this campaign isn't its atheism.

Of course the general encouragement to "stop worrying and enjoy your life" is nice. It's kind, comforting and pretty good advice, too - whether you have a religious faith or not. And that little word 'probably' is rather special: it's modest, unassuming and slightly self-deprecating... there's something quintessentially English about it, don't you think?

It's clever, too: with that single word, the campaign creators have headed off any possible charge of hypocritical dogmatism. No-one can accuse this particular bunch of atheists of an ideological fanaticism that's just like the religious fundamentalists - which is a criticism often leveled at outspoken atheists like Richard Dawkins.

There is 'probably' no God, say these people - just probably - we're not ruling it out.

In fact, the whole ad is rather polite, in a slightly old-fashioned way that is the antithesis of the brash, in-yer-face media messages that usually surround us. If you have a faith, this campaign does not seek to undermine it - though I'm sure it does hope you'll examine it.

But best of all, I like this campaign because it isn't trying to sell me anything or make me do anything. And how rare is that, eh?! Every other poster you have ever seen on the side of a bus has been trying to get you to watch a movie, buy a game, change your phone, taste a new chocolate, swig a different kind of fizz, or some-such ... But this one just invites us to live.

Yes, LIVE! Now there's a thought!

In fact, I'd say the Atheist Bus Campaign has a strong Zen flavour to it. With its emphasis on living rather than angsting and its laissez-faire enthusiasm, its slogan fits very comfortably alongside Zen proverbs like these:

"If you understand, things are just as they are; if you do not understand, things are just as they are." (Unsourced)

"When hungry eat, when tired sleep." (Po Chang )

"If the problem has a solution, worrying is pointless, in the end the problem will be solved. If the problem has no solution, there is no reason to worry, because it can't be solved." (Unsourced)

"Knock on the sky and listen to the sound." (Unsourced)

So I like the Atheist Bus Campaign - and when I call "All Aboard!" I hope you buy a ticket too. If you do have a religious faith, I ask you to forgive it its hubristic opinions, please. You may not agree with their ideas, but surely you can rejoice in their enthusiasm?!

And you can have the final satisfaction of knowing that the word 'enthusiastic' is derived from Greek, and means "possessed by god"!

Flow x

P.S. And to prove that I'm not a dogmatist either ... if you'd like to read a Guardian opinion piece that disagrees with almost every word I've said, just click here!

Little steps to a better world

(Inspirational Quotes - Help Yourself, Help Others - SelfHelp Collective)

I came across a great quotation today:

"Don't spend your precious time asking 'Why isn't the world a better place?' It will only be time wasted. The question to ask is 'How can I make it better?' To that there is an answer".
(Leo Buscaglia)

(And thanks to Steve, for sending me the link to his new YouTube videos of Inspirational Quotes, which is where I found it).

There are probably lots of answers, in fact. And it seems to me that we don't need to worry about finding the 'right' one: all sorts of positive actions, even tiny little steps, can make the world a better place. If you're a problem-solver - an instinctive Mr or Ms Fix-It like me - then it can be hard to remember that, if you can't see the grand solution, small improvements are still worth making. 'Better' is a relative term, after all.

Flow x

Hold the front page: I want some good news for a change!

I'm not superstitious, but when I opened my door at midday, I couldn't help feeling that the universe was trying to tell me something ...

Outside, the world was entirely monotone: snow fell last night, and the sun didn't make it out from behind the clouds today, so black trees were silhouetted against the white sky, and the hills were stretched out like a depressive harlequin in a suit of mottled greys. It was not inspiring.

Then - as the clock struck twelve, suddenly, simultaneously - a laggardly cockrel crowed, three dark crows circled the house opposite, and a single magpie hopped onto its roof. Omens, all. So were they warnings of misfortune? Probably.

Sometimes it feels like a bad, mad world out there.

*

I watched the news last night. That's something I try to avoid, because it's generally so miserable, and I believe it's bad for one's mental health to be constantly exposed to so much gloom. As far as I'm concerned, when it comes to the mainstream media, no news is good news.

But I watched, and I read, so now I know all sorts of grim facts about the current conflict in Gaza. The whole Gaza strip is only about 25 miles long and 5-10 miles wide, and its borders are closed and guarded, so that there is nowhere for its 1.5 million inhabitants to run to. They are sitting ducks, and almost every one of them is an innocent victim of Israel's bombardment. As of today, there are 660 dead Palestinians and 10 dead Israelis. It's tragic for everyone.

And there is absolutely nothing I can do to about it.

In the olden days when all news was local and carried by word of mouth, you could respond to bad news by doing something to help. When the only misfortune you heard about was your neighbour's, you could (as a wise friend observed) at least take round a bowl of soup. These days, the news channels tell us about global catastrophes that are entirely beyond our control, and it reinforces our sense of powerlessness. If I were a cynic, I might suggest that they do it deliberately, to create the impression that bad news is universal and unavoidable, and to make us less likely to rise up in protest and try to change the world.

Of course, we do need to know about the bad stuff, at least some of it. Oppressive regimes use reporting black-outs to hide their murderous deeds. It's no co-incidence that the BBC is banned from some countries, including Myanmar and Zimbabwe, whose government has proscribed it as a terrorist organisation. So, no, I'm not advocating that we ignore the bad news - but I would like more positive news in the mainstream, rather than hidden away in the sidelines as it is now. It seems good news is not news.

I'll bet there is more good stuff than bad stuff going on in the world - but how could we ever know?

*

Back in my own little world, I laughed at the Portents of Doom, worried for a moment about my sanity, and then on a whim called two friends whom I thought would understand and enjoy the anecdote. One of these friends has been very ill recently. The other, his partner, answered the 'phone ... and told me - hooray! - that the doctors think his cancer has gone.

The wonderful news made my day, tho' it won't make it to the front pages.

And nya nya ne nya nya to that magpie!

Flow x

The silly side of surveillance

Mark Thomas/FeelgoodTV - Video Surveillance

I've been thinking about surveillance (oh, no particular reason, Officer).

And when you think about it - which, let's face it, most of us would prefer not to - there are a lot of different possible responses to the fact we are all being spyed on. People whose lives are boring and/or self-satisfied tend towards the "Well, I've got nothing to hide" point of view. But the rest of us are often either worried, afraid or scandalised.

Mark Thomas, however (bless his cotton socks!), does a fine job of exposing the ridiculous side of surveillance, as well as its outrageousness. As this video clip shows, if you choose to meet sneaky, covert operations with open, honest communication, and a polite-but-mischievous refusal to play by their rules, then the Powers That Be end up looking rather foolish.

Which is only to be expected, I suppose, when the key words that the establishment spies listen out for include artichoke and badger!

Oops, I've said 'em now! No doubt Echelon has already noticed ...

Flow x

A woman's brain

My friend Lorna sent me this diagram of a woman's brain (thank you).

Clearly this shouldn't be used as any kind of instruction guide for surgery, but it tickled me: it's more or less what my brain feels like at the moment!




Flow x

The turning of the year

Happy New Year!

It's the first of January, and this is my first post of 2009. I admit I have rather a hangover - a real head-thumping humdinger in fact - the first for about a decade - so forgive me, if my thinking seems a little wooly...

It seemed appropriate to reflect a little on the turning of the year. Last night, of course, we moved from one calendar year into the next. But the year is 'turning' in other ways, too. The winter solstice last week was the moment when the days began to grow longer and the nights began to grow shorter. And it's called the 'solstice' (as I can confidently tell you, because I did Latin at school!) because the sun (sol, from solus), which has been getting lower in the sky throughout the winter so far, stands still (stasis) for a few days before it begins to climb higher again.

'The turning of the year', indeed. I had a vague feeling that this must be a quotation, but I couldn't think of its source, so I googled the phrase. I was a little taken aback to find there are 57,400 results for that exact phrase, and nearly 39 million for 'turning' and 'year'! But I'm not easily daunted, so I followed up a couple of hunches.

First, I looked up Auld Lang Syne , but it's not in that. Then I thought of Shakespeare, but thanks to a rather nifty searchable text thingy I now know the phrase isn't his, either. I found it in a rather nice modern version of The Holly and the Ivy, but since this is very different from the old version I learned as a child, it can't be where I've heard it before.

My search uncovered a couple of lovely discoveries; they didn't help me with the origin of the phrase, but I was glad to have found them.

Someone has done lots of research on the symbolism of all the months of the year , and their post for Yule and the New Year made interesting reading:

"Yggdrasil (the world-tree whose roots were knotted in Hell and its boughs supported Heaven) ... This Tree of Life sheltered the Norns, another example of the triple-goddess: Urth (the past), Verdandi (the present), and Skuld (the future) who lovingly tended the tree. In Norse tradition, the festival of Yule (December 26-January 6) assigns 4 days to each of the Norns to honor the turning of the year. New Year’s day, the middle of this period has become a day when we remember the past and plan for the future, making resolutions to better our lives, and invoking the assistance of these triune sister goddesses".

Then the Guardian website had a page with some links to lovely poems relating to new year, including Emily Dickinson's 'Hope is a strange invention':

Hope is a strange invention
A Patent of the Heart
In unremitting action
Yet never wearing out

Of this electric Adjunct
Not anything is known
But its unique momentum
Embellish all we own.

Hope seems to me to be great theme for 2009. Let's face it, 2008 wasn't much fun, was it? And I certainly hope this year will be better.

Fun. Ah yes: one of my favourite themes!

I never did find the origin of the phrase, but thoughts of the year's revolution have now turned to resolution. And I am resolved that this year will be much more fun-filled than last, because I agree with Tom Robbins:

"Fun! If others might find that appraisal of his life shallow, frivolous, so be it. To him, it seemed now to largely have been some form of play. And he vowed that in future he would strive to keep that sense of play more in mind, for he'd grown convinced that play - more than piety, more than charity or vigilance - was what allowed human beings to transcend evil".

And may 2009 be full of fun and play for you, too!

Flow x

Reasons to be cheerful (part 1)

Hello, hello, and Seasons' Greetings to you all!


If you have been celebrating Christmas, I hope you had a good one. If you haven't been celebrating, I hope you've still found plenty of things to enjoy during this past week. Here are some of my own current Reasons to be Cheerful:

* The days are getting longer and the sun is getting higher in the sky - hooray!

* There are two brave little pink roses trying to bloom in my garden.

* We had a nice Christmas: my children liked their prezzies and we had a lovely meal with friends.

* My youngest son's favourite present was a cuddly polar bear given to him by his big brother, so they have declared an amnesty and are friends at the moment.

* My eldest son gave me Bill Bailey's Tinselwood DVD, and (almost better) since I haven't yet watched it, I am still in a state of excited anticip-p-p-pation about it!

* I have rediscovered sloe gin and ginger wine: perfect winter drinks!

* I haven't listened to the news for several days now, so I haven't been made depressed by what I've heard!

* I have an open fire, and logs and dried rosemary twigs to put on it.

* I am catching up on sleep.

And last but not least, someone called Trevor invented a marvellous phrase to describe the Random Act of Fun I posted about last time, which I would like to nominate as Original Linguistic Invention of the week... it's 'cracker frippery'! Perfectomundo!

Flow x

Random fun with Christmas crackers!

Random Acts of Fun: Christmas Crackers!

Yesterday was the winter solstice - the shortest, darkest day of the year - a time when the world especially needs a bit of light and laughter!

So I went with a bunch of people to a big shopping centre in our nearest town, to take part in a Random Act of Fun. We simply took along a few boxes of Christmas crackers and asked strangers "Would you like to pull a cracker with me?"

Have a quick look at the video to see what happened (it's only one-and-a-half minutes long)... And though it's sad to see that some people actually seemed scared to share in such a simple pleasure, we did bring smiles to lots of other faces!

Flow x