the crone

opening the door to ideas

Lemmy. David Bowie. Alan Rickman. Sharing an appropriate salute to the past fortnight. Pic taken from the Twitter feed of @CardinalPhink. I’ll leave you with Alan Rickman’s words. “A film, a piece of theatre, a piece of music or a book can make a difference. It can change the world.” Ain’t that the truth.  

    So that’s Christmas over.   That means no wine.   The above is quite a crisp and refreshing experience for me. I’m feeling cool and deliciously smooth, with a hint of tropical fruits (mainly because I’m eating a lot of tropical fruits). It’s good for my mental health and my attitude to business for 2016, because for the …

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I’ve been researching the rise of ‘Pauper funerals’ in the UK. Also called Section 46 funerals, these are burials that are paid for by the local authority when someone dies alone, with no known next of kin. What struck me as I read through case studies, watched news articles and looked up Gazette postings, is that when …

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I’ve had no ideas lately. No wonderful words have slipped through my mind. No scintillating thoughts I feel feel driven to share. No things. No thing. So, I am borrowing a few of my favourite words. I’m just going to leave them here. And see if they start talking to each other. Perspicacious. Crystal. Ethereal. Emerald. Ocean. Sapphire. Translucent. Equinox. Jewelled. Satsuma. …

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Apprentice fever has hit our house again. I hate it (well, I love to hate it). It’s a guilty pleasure. Jeering at the candidates’ mistakes that all seem so obvious from the safety of your sofa, arguing with Lord Sugarpuff’s boardroom decisions and deriding the outrageously scripted puns. But once again what strikes me is how horribly uncooperative …

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I’ve been talking to another blogger fourhillsfarm64 about the legacy of being a child who has grown up and lived with the long-term disease and death of a parent (or loved one). I’ve covered some of my own thoughts and experiences on this in previous posts. The outside calm and the inside crying My father was disabled and horribly ill for most of my …

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I just re-read a book by accident. It was Stephen King’s Misery. I don’t read horror books any more (I still watch horror films though). So, I was just looking through one of the many boxes of books I still haven’t unpacked since moving house, when Misery kind of fell into my hand. Then it sort of opened. Then my eyes started reading …

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Walking to the station this morning. The Chemical Brothers banging away in my earphones. I was striding along. Pumping bass. Deafening synth chords. But, it was all a bit… loud. I got to thinking, “Is this the music I need to hear?” “Am I really enjoying these hyper dance sounds at 8.30am on a beautifully tranquil English summer …

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I am in one of those stupid defeatist moods where I keep typing stuff then deleting it. The Inner-Critic is on my shoulder poking and laughing at my blog entries and calling me a pretentious twat. Or else he’s yawning and saying how boring it is. Criticism. It can make you improve. Energize you to do …

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