Gates

I remember  the first time I met one of the farmers in my parish. As I approached the farm he was standing at the gate of one of his fields. On introducing  himself to me he went on to say, " I am a man outstanding in my own field."  I laughed and he laughed with me and so began a good friendship.  He was a wonderful friend and helped me with my hens and all sorts of things.

The painting I have used on this blog, even though I am having difficulty with it because of the wifi where I am is of a gate I passed through yesterday. I just could not resist painting it. It was in itself a work of art. Made out of bits of trees and wood constructed in such a way that I could walk through it but cattle in the field could not.

It reminded me of another French gate. This one led to a field of melons. The farmer was concerned that his melons were disappearing due to theft. He very cleverly thought how he might stop this happening.

He painted a large notice which he nailed to the gate. It read, "One one the melons in this field has been injected with poison." 

The next morning, no thefts. He was feeling very pleased with  himself and his notice. Then he looked at it again.

Somebody had added something to the bottom of the notice.

"Now there are two."

Never become too outstanding and clever for your own good, it can come back and bite you.

Have a wonderful day. Cannot get the picture on here but it is on the link on FB. Moving on again tomorrow hopefully to better wifi.

Getting Lost.

I have had some marvellous experiences in life and strangely the ones that stick in my memory are those where I have got lost. Memories are built on the experiences we did not expect to have.

I remember one such experience where on following directions given me by my son I ended up standing in snow in glaciers with a car and caravan.  The sign on the road ahead said no trailers beyond this point. I had driven up and up a scary road for miles I was not for turning around and going back. So taking the bull by the horns I drove on down the most horrendous trail.

When I eventually arrived at the bottom I was so relieved. When I looked at the beautiful trims on my caravan wheels they were just two flops of molten plastic from the heat off my brakes.

A frightening experience but yet one of life memories that both I and my family have laughed about for years and learned from.

Yesterday I had a similar experience. I cycled for miles, once again to view a place my son told me was worthy of a visit. It was. 

The return journey I tried to follow a cycle path which led me up and down hills and through little villages. I was lost. But then I cycled though a troglodyte habitation. This made all the trials of the cycle worth it. 

To see and wonder that people so many thousands of years ago could build and construct such cave dwellings with little tools or knowledge.

it makes us clever people seem so much less clever. Oh yes we have computers and all such wonders. But could we without their help be so inventive?

The other thought that crossed my mind was that so often in life we get lost. Or we wander off track and get into difficulties. The road ahead seems impossible. But just around the corner there can be marvellous things to behold.

If we can just settle down and take time and get things back on track.

As Taoism says go with the flow and all will come right.

Have a marvellous day.

For what do we wait.

I had an very interesting discussion last with with the couple in the caravan next to me. Now I do not know how we did but we ended up having a fairly interesting conversation about the teaching of Buddhism, called the Eightfold Path. 

This led to a discussion about the frailty of life and as a chemist he does not believe that there is anything that is not in a state of constant change. Now this fits perfectly with the Buddhist belief of Impermanence, nothing last or lives forever.

So the question of the title of this blog and the title of the painting, The Warrior Waits, is simply what do we wait for. Being aware of the inevitable we should wait for nothing but get on with living. Living each precious moment as if it were the last. 

A bit like the couple in this little tale.

Barry returned from a doctor's visit one day and told his wife that the doctor said he only had 24 hours to live. Wiping away her tears, he asked her to make love with him. 

Of course she agreed and they made passionate love.

Later, Barry was getting into bed when he realised he now had only eight hours of life left. He touched her shoulder and said, "Honey? Please? Just one more time before I die." 

She agreed, then afterward she rolled over and fell asleep.

Barry, however, heard the clock ticking in his head, and he tossed and turned until he was down to only four more hours. He tapped his wife on the shoulder to wake her up. "Honey, I only have four hours left! Could we...?"

His wife sat up abruptly, turned to him and said, "Listen Barry, I'm not being funny... but I have to get up in the morning and you don't."

It is all a case of priorities really.

Moving on day for me today everything changes. Where am I going to be at the end of the day? I really do not know we shall see.

Have a great day and make the most of it. 

Who Brews First.

The painting above is I think still a work in progress. A friend Marina sent me the photograph and I thank her for that. I have made no effort as yet to reproduce it rather I have tried to capture it in a very impressionistic way capturing the mood rather than the reality. 

One of my great loves in life is an expresso coffee preferably sitting at a roadside bistro watching the world go by. I also look forward to the first cup in the morning nice and strong, it sets me up for the day. 

The coffee made here in France for some reason or another always just tastes that little bit different.

One of the other joys of being away in the van is the kind of tradition we have built up over the years of having a coffee before rising while I read a few chapters of my present book.

No argument about who makes this early morning coffee it is just a case of whoever.

This is so unlike the man and his wife who argued all the time about who was making the first brew of the day.

So this day the  man and his wife were having an argument about who should brew the coffee each morning.

The wife said, "You should do it because you get up first, and then we don't have to wait as long to get our coffee.

The husband said, "You are in charge of cooking around here and
you should do it, because that is your job, and I can just wait for my coffee."

Wife replies, "No, you should do it, and besides, it is in the Bible that the man should do the coffee."
Husband replies, "I can't believe that, show me."

So she fetched the Bible, and opened the New Testament and showed him at the top of several pages that it indeed says... "HEBREWS"

Now how can you argue with that?

Enjoy your daily brew and have a great day.

Favourite Things

We all have those things that we love and the things that we dislike. I was made very aware of it early this morning. One of the things I dislike more than most things is "musac", that annoying sound that you hear thrust upon you that you can do very little about.

The music that you have to listen to until a human being comes along to speak to you and respond to your call. It always seems to be the very music I do not wish to listen to. 

Back to this morning. I was awakened early the results of last nights strong curry. I got up and rushed out to the toilet on the site, will not go on to explain the reason for that, arriving at the toilet slightly wet from an overnight shower, I was met with music.

At that time in the morning it was still playing, and here I was on a French Caravan Site and what was playing? English pop music. What was the tune? One moment in time. Well I can tell you right then I was hoping so. 

Things I do like. I love painting seas and especially moonlight seas. So having had a bad experience I thought a good one would change they day, and it did.

Thinking of favourite things reminded me of the tale of the honest child. I will retell it in his words.

Our teacher asked us what our favourite animal was, and I said, "Fried chicken." She said I wasn't funny, but she couldn't have been right, because everyone else in the class laughed.

My parents told me to always be truthful and honest, and I am. Fried chicken is my favourite animal.

 I told my dad what happened, and he said my teacher was probably a member of animal rights. He said they love animals very much. I do, too.  Especially chicken, pork and beef. 

Anyway, my teacher sent me to the principal's office. I told him what happened, and he laughed, too. Then he told me not to do it again.

The next day in class my teacher asked me what my favourite live animal was. I told her it was chicken. She asked me why, just like she'd asked the other children. So I told her it was because you could make them into fried chicken. 

She sent me back to the principal's office again. He laughed, and told me not to do it again. I don't understand. My parents taught me to be honest, but my teacher doesn't like it when I am.

Today, my teacher asked us to tell her what famous person we admire most.

I told her... "Colonel Sanders."

Guess where I am now?

I guess he was not alone in having a favourite food. When I was cooking curry last night on my outdoor cooker there were many passing who commented on the lovely aroma.

Little did they know it was just one moment in time.

Have a great day.

A Clash of Cultures.

I did say I would say a little more about my market day experience. Well here it is, the band. Six old gentlemen playing to entertain those shopping at the little local market. They were throughly enjoying themselves and they were making happy sounds.  They did hit a few wrong notes and sometimes played off key but it was cheerful and as I sat with others having a coffee they lifted my spirits. 

They also did the same for others who at the end of each little group of pieces they clapped enthusiastically. I began to think that maybe there were no wrong notes maybe it was meant to be a bit off key. 

Then the band struck up and began to play Auld Lang Syne, not they were playing wrong notes I do not think I have ever heard it play like that. Still I sang along. At the end I told the drummer that I hailed from Scotland. He was not aware that the last piece was Scottish. He said it was the bands little kiss to the crowd before going. I smiled.

Who needs mistletoe when you can get a kiss like this? But then what is a kiss.

Here is how some professors define the answer to that question. 

Professor of Computer Science:
A kiss is a few bits of love compiled into a byte.

Professor of Algebra:
A kiss is two divided by nothing.

Professor of Geometry:
A kiss is the shortest distance between two straight lines.

Professor of Physics:
A kiss is the contraction of mouth due to the expansion of the heart.

Professor of Chemistry:
A kiss is the reaction of the interaction between two hearts.

Professor of Accountancy:
A kiss is a credit because it is profitable when returned.

Professor of Economics:
A kiss is that thing for which the demand is higher than the supply.

 Professor of Philosophy: 

A kiss is the persecution for the child, ecstasy for the youth and homage for the old.

Professor of English:
A kiss is a noun that is used as a conjunction; it is more common than proper; it is spoken in the plural; and it is applicable to all.

Professor of Engineering:
Uh, What? I'm not familiar with that term.

I think I might just go back and stand under that mistletoe. Have a marvellous day.

Market Day

Yesterday I visited the little local market. It was held in the market square under a large and beautiful pillared area. Love these markets not for what I purchase but just that they reflect life in the village or town. 

At this market there was a band playing more of that in a future blog, There were various stalls selling local produce and handcrafts. All of the vegetables a fruit on sale are seasonal and not shipped in. 

At this market there were various artists scattered around each sketching part of the local scene.

Of course I could not resist.

Reminded me of the tale of two farmers who decided that they should get together to make some extra for the sale of their produce. They decided to travel round all the local farmers and purchase from them at a price and sell at a different price at the markets in the area.

They rented a truck and drive around a number of the farms and purchase a load of watermelons. They paid the farmers 50 pence per watermelon.

They set up at the first market and sell them at two for a pound. They soon sell out.

On the way home one farmer says to the other, "You know we did not make too much money. How do you figure it?"

The other thinks for a bit and replies. "We need a bigger truck."

Like them I was never very good at math.

Have a great day! I am counting on you all.

Some Plant Life and a Smile.

                

I walked twice yesterday along trails I have walked from this site over the four years I have visited this place. The walking here is beautiful. The little painting was of a little wild orchid I passed. The other is a bunch of mistletoe that was growing on the branch of a poplar tree.

Hopes and Dreams

My eye espied the mistletoe and my heart gave a little jump,

I stood in hope and waited that a kiss might come my way.

That my day might find love along the path.

I waited but in vain for ninety route did come.

But hope eternal springs 

that path tomorrow I will tread. 

Who knows what the day might bring.

Of course I am a dreamer but is that not what such things as mistletoe is all about? 

It is of course so far from the truth and has been involved in religions for many many years long before it found its way into the Christmas celebrations, and only then was it related to kissing.

All this just a lead into a couple of tales that came back to my mind when I saw the mistletoe growing.

Jennifer was a pretty 18 year old girl.  In the week before Christmas she sauntered up to the decorations counter, and was trying to decide which of the many types of tinsel she would buy.  Finally, she made her choice and asked the spotty youth who was manning the  section.  "How much is this gold tinsel garland".

The spotty youth pointed to the Christmas mistletoe above the counter and said, 'This week we have a special offer, just one kiss per metre'.

'Wow, that's great', said Jennifer, 'I'll take 12 metres'.

With expectation and anticipation written all over his face, the boy measured out the tinsel, wrapped up the garland, and gave it to Jennifer. 

She then called to an old man who had been browsing through the Christmas trees and said, 'My Grandpa will settle the bill.'

Another that I recalled.

Will was returning home from a business trip.  It had been an exhausting trip and he was not in a good mood.  The airport's Christmas musak was getting him down, and their decorations were tacky. 

As he queued at the check-in desk he day-dreamed about the plastic mistletoe hung over the luggage scale.  Being in a bad mood, he said to the woman at the counter, "You know, even if I weren't married, I wouldn't kiss you."  

That's not what it's there for," said the attendant. "It's so you can kiss your luggage goodbye".

Yes I am aware that it is a long way from Christmas but I see so many counting down the days so I thought I would put in my little bit.

Have a great day and live for today there is no need to dream of other days.

A Little Poem

I was crossing the above bridge two days ago and as I looked into the waters below I saw a coypu raise its head above the water, just for the briefest of moments. My eye caught its and for a second we held each others gaze, then off he traveled on his way seeking the food for the day.

As I left a thought crossed my mind that this was one of those little seconds that would add to the memories of my time in that place. Happy thoughts that I could return to and enjoy again and again.

I wandered on my last two miles and the thoughts of moments filled my head. I share with you some of those thoughts in this little poem. 

A Moment.

It is just a moment,

It flashes by unnoticed,

Not even long enough to catch a feather with a fan,

A second in time,

But  long enough to say I love you,

Or to utter a harsh word.

To make another smile or cry.

It is gone and never will return.

Every moment must be held dear.

It is another one less for you this year.

This life

A moment of your  time give thought.

And use to lift a heart,

It is the precious moments shared

That add to the value of your being,

Those moments add to the treasured

Memories that you will leave behind

Once the sands of time have come and gone

And the moments are no more.

I hope your day is filled with little moments that feed the memory banks for tomorrow. Have a good day.

The joys of camping

I have enjoyed my camping experience in this little place where I have stayed for the last four or five weeks. I have been here often before and the experience has always been the same. I have walked every day clocking up some 14 or so miles every day. I have seen wildlife here I have never experienced very many other places.  

The foraging has also been excellent walnuts, grapes but to mention a few.

So today I move again to another spot I love being in. So a short little tale today about camping.

I have a friend who told me about his camping experiences in Alaska. He came across a notice advising hime to take care for bears. 

Tourists and campers are warned  to wear tiny bells on their clothing when hiking in bear country. The bells warn away MOST bears. 

Tourists and campers are also cautioned to watch the ground on the trail, paying particular attention to bear droppings to be alert for the presence of Grizzly Bears.

One can tell a Grizzly dropping because it has tiny bells in it.

Do take care you never know when you might hear the tinkle of a little bell.

Have a great day as I travel to my next destination.

The old timer and the cowboy

Every so often we meet somebody who thinks that they know everything there is to know on every subject. Sadly I meet a few of them on caravan sites and once the wine starts to take effect they get louder and more confident in their opinions. I listened to such last night and kept my head down.

It reminds me of the old cowboy story. Let me try to remember it and give justice to its telling.

An old prospector shuffled into the town of El Indio, Texas , leading an old tired mule.  The old man headed straight for the only saloon in town, to clear his parched throat.  He walked up to the saloon and tied his old mule to the hitch rail.

As he stood there, brushing some of the dust from his face and clothes, a young gunslinger stepped out of the saloon with a gun in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.

The young gunslinger looked at the old man and laughed, saying, "Hey old man, have you ever danced?"

The old man looked up at the gunslinger and said, "No, I never did dance ... Never really wanted to."

A crowd had gathered as the gunslinger  grinned and said, "Well, you old fool, you're gonna dance now," and started shooting at the old man's  feet.

The old prospector, not wanting to get a toe blown off, started hopping around like a cat on a hot tin roof.

Everybody was laughing.  When his last bullet had been fired, the young gunslinger, still laughing, holstered his gun and turned around to go back into the saloon.

The old  man turned to his pack mule, pulled out a double-barreled shotgun, and cocked both hammers.  The loud clicks carried clearly through the desert air.

The crowd stopped laughing immediately. The young gunslinger heard the sounds too, and he turned around very slowly.

The silence was almost deafening.

The crowd watched as the young gunman stared at the old timer and the large gaping holes of those twin barrels.  

The barrels of the shotgun never wavered in the old man's hands, as he quietly said, "Son, have you ever kissed a mule's Ass?"

The gunslinger swallowed hard and said, "No sir ... But... I've always wanted to."

There are a few lessons for us all here:
Never be arrogant.
Don't waste ammunition.
Whiskey makes you think you're smarter than you are.
Always, always make sure you know who has the power.
Don't mess with old folks, they didn't get old by being stupid.

Oh I do like a story with a happy ending. Hope you have a marvellous day.