…Surprising what you find:

Pretty Frilly Blue


Grounded in nature


Placed by nature -irresistible

If you peer in you may see the blue frilly butterfly on the right.


Crafted from  nature.

Nature blooming



Carved out woodland life


Dumbledore, or, could it be Gandulf…

The woods are different every visit, be it nature’s own changes with the seasons, or, things we have not yet found, all waiting for the next time we go exploring the woods.


This post, I uploaded for the first time, pictures taken with my phone camera. I don’t think I have mastered the art of uploading phone photos. All tips gratefully received.  🙂



I was having a phone chat  with a very happy sounding lady called Kelly in the  telephone accounts department.  A couple of messages had attracted a surcharge as picture messages and I could not understand why. There was not a modicum of a picture in sight in either one, not even an emoticon.  I read the two messages to her and counted the digits in one of the them – fifty-five, (160 is the text limit).   Kelly just couldn’t understand it… I checked my settings, all okay there.

As I still had the messages and could account for what they were, she agreed a refund to my account, then added with a sigh;

I hate smart phones, they’re getting too smart for me!” 



It’s always the way, isn’t it, when you need to print something the ink tank is empty.


Honestly, I haven’t intentionally pushed the ink cartridges to their limits.   I ordered a whole new set of inks, which should have arrived by now. They are either delayed or lost in the post system.  The order cannot be reported by the company to the post office as lost, for another week.print

Maybe the order will arrive tomorrow, or perhaps Saturday. Post arrives at all different times, including late in the day. So, I will wait till tomorrow afternoon, after that, I shall have to buy alternative supplies.  As the printer is just a few months old,  I have ordered, at some expense, original ink cartridges.  My next step and backup is to research where I can find alternative printer ink supplies.  If the order does not arrive, I have decided to bite the bullet and buy the substantially cheaper compatible inks.


It’s always the way.






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It’s tea time and it is late October, I am looking through the pitted glass; it’s pitted with the salt spray that has gusted around on stormy wet winds, winds gusting at about 70 miles per hour today.  Memories of a fine pleasant Edinburgh in August this year, seem unreal on this rip roaring weather day;  it feels like it was a really long time ago.  The Edinburgh Fringe Festival, The International Festival, (main stream theatre) and  the Edinburgh International Book Festival, all ‘colluded’ to start simultaneously this year. I thought it was fantastic. Virtually the whole of the city centre and many nearby suburbs buzzed with Festival. 

My shoulder and neck ached from carrying my camera,  so, there were some days as a festival-goer I gave ‘me’ a rest.  A couple of times I saw the most fascinating person, or, action, and I had nothing with which to physically record the moment. You never know what wonders there will be at Festival.  It sometimes works in your favour focussing your eyes 100% and chatting with people, like, when I climbed on a bus one afternoon and sitting facing me was the most stunningly made-up young man, who was on his way to perform in a cabaret act. Exquisite feathers of shiny and many coloured hues, for eyelashes, fluttered at me.  He had fine very pale pink lips and a white face.  All of this theatrical beauty was crowned with dressed fiery curly auburn hair. “You look wonderful“,  I found myself blurting out.  I know he was surprised, it showed. He was also pleased and he thanked me. I sat next to a woman in the seat in front of him and  there began a  friendly three-way conversation. The man rifled around in his capacious handbag, also part of the theatrical wardrobe, to find me a card for his fringe venue. Well, you can’t remember every little thing can you. No card I’m afraid, but, I did learn that the eyes transformation took about an hour and a more careful application (!!!) required about two and a half hours.

I wonder what this glorious ‘lady-in-waiting ‘ is loitering for.  Maracas perhaps?


 The Royal Mile, is about a mile to walk; the top end has the iconic Edinburgh Castle and at the lower end you arrive at Holyrood Palace, where the Queen stays when in Edinburgh.   The top end was closed off to through-traffic during Festival.  With the good weather most days, snapshot fringe performances took place.


There was all this activity  at the top end, near the castle.  Manipulating a puppet while playing a violin – what a brilliant act!

The cyclist in the picture above is a mime artist and is not moving.

Here below, onlookers filming and taking photos of the puppeteer and her fiddler



A puppet act with a difference




A quarter of the way down…. this group had a regular longer performance at an indoor venue. Here on The Mile they were providing a taster of their act.  They worked their audience well and a good crowd gathered.



And more….  the boards, like the one in this picture to the left of the stage, gives the  schedules of free Fringe acts throughout the day at the various similar stage venues here.  This is just a wee snapshot of one day at The Festival when I was wandering around exploring what was happening on The Royal Mile. There was a lot more to find in many different places.



It was a pleasant chat with the representative from St Martins-In-The Field; the best bit of all was when he said he had no time for certain other charities that mobbed and bothered for donations and persisted in various ways to obtain more donations from their givers thereafter. He felt that his donations would be being misused, diverted away from their primary purpose.

I know about the Vicar’s Fund that St Martins is involved in all year round, a fund that can give emergency help quickly, what I did not know was that the fund is nationwide and does not stop and the Welsh,Irish, or, Scottish Borders.

The all-year work with vulnerable people and the destitute, has a great record of giving purpose and meaning to many peoples’ lives. St Martins is not just for Christmas, though as the coldest time of the year approaches and many hostels have reduced capacity, the support of St Martins is in ever greater demand.

The BBC are about to begin their annual appeal for the nationwide network of help that St Martins quietly provides. I hope they do well.

I got to thinking about “The Field”. An old picture does show the old church of St Martins surrounded by some greenery. Now it is not even a faded memory. There is no sign of it. The Church is overlooked, overshadowed even, by the Portrait Gallery and The National Gallery at the bottom of The Charing Cross Road and the busy daily life of Trafalgar Square.


(Courtesy of Wikipedia).


‘The Big Society’ is being unveiled by the Conservative/Lib-dem government, the main spokesperson being the Conservative Prime Minister, David Cameron, whose political campaign dream it was.

The largest society work force will be volunteers, any kind, from all age groups and educational levels. They will be volunteering instead of earning salaries; many will be building up C.V.’s of experience, to help them move on to what? More volunteering, training volunteers to volunteer, while remaining as a volunteer. So, the big society will be a huge population of people in unpaid community activity. What is going to be the definition of activity in the community?

When everyone has become a volunteer, managed and mentored by volunteers who in turn will likely be managed by paid directors, dying to skill up all these volunteers to take a director’s role, (not on your life!) where will the government purse obtain its income from?

You would expect that there has been government preparation for the daily survival for this massive army of unpaid people; of course you would if you were in charge of it. There has to be a strategy, doesn’t there, to run alongside the reconstruction – or is it destruction – of ways of earning a reasonable living, such as realistically remunerated employment opportunities.


At a funeral service I attended, I was really impressed with what I heard about the life of the deceased, who I will call M. The service was very well attended by people from all over the county, indicating how well thought of the man had been.

This man was the one of the sons of a shepherd. He in turn was a shepherd. A short period in the RAF brought M into contact with the lady who became his wife. They returned to his home and produced a family that today, comprises of grandchildren and nine great grandchildren, very few of whom, had dry eyes during the service. The minister spoke of what the man had enjoyed in his life, his manual dexterity and his voracious appetite for reading. When M retired he returned to farm work.

It is what was not said the was so impressive. We knew, and so did the people who paid their last respects, that M spent a large part of his working life in an organisation that required absolute reliability and ability in the auditing of specialised working materials. His work had to be 100%, and some more. It was not just internally checked, the accounting had to be good enough for national and international review as well. The well-being of a large working community was dependent upon M’s work and he unfailingly met the exacting standards of the challenge.


We are a bereaved family now in the rush towards the final rituals, and then, I suppose, the next stage will be in the limbo land of grief.

Around us, there are signs of new life, this year’s young birds. The frenzy to feed young with the provision of peanuts and seeds has reduced. The birds have become more independent of their mums and they have learned to feed on what nature provides. There is the grass that constantly renews itself in the warm and wet growing period. The young lambs are now three quarters grown. In their place there are many new calves learning to stand, awkward and gangly with their legs crossed; others are just taking their first tentative steps.

Taking time to observe, I see many new babies; their mums and dads looking so fresh and young. Their older siblings either taking a pride in their new family member, or showing complete disinterest. There are generations of children to grow; there are those who are now new young adults; there are the young adults who are now the generation of active parents aunts and uncles. Meantime, we move up the ladder to become, grandparents, maiden aunts/great aunts, bachelor uncles/great uncles, even our cousin-ship lines start to change, to distance. The extended family stretches out in many directions, some eventually lost in their time. The circle of time continues to move round.


It was too cold to wait outside the bank for hubby so I sat inside and people watched.

He seemed outwardly sober yet there was enough borderline behaviour and noise to make you think otherwise. I’m sure I’ve seen this guy before, in the same place, slightly more inhibited. He’d met up with his brother, brother has come home;( I remembered he did that before). They shared a bottle – presumably the hard stuff, whisky – he wanted to know how much was in his account to draw on. It wouldn’t be much. The teller was careful and asked the guy how much he wanted. Yes, he had enough in the account for that sum. With it he was going to buy a bottle for him and his brother to have with their stew.

“There’s something wrong here, you’re not wearing a wedding ring”. says man to attractive girl working at the next till. She’s too young she tells the guy and gets on with the transactions with her customer. I’ll tell ‘ee what, if I was a bit younger lass, I would grab ‘ee.