Prairie

London With Mal

Plato once penned: "All is flux and no thing stays the same." This pretty much sums up my life lately, it's undergone a metamorphosis of sorts, many positive changes; new digs, single again {happy} officially became a British citizen and I'm making plans for some serious 2011 photography projects. This is a long overdue post, all about my October day out to London with my friend Mal. I don't get into London much so when Marilyn asked what I wanted to do for my birthday, I said "a trip to London of course !!"  I wanted to see art. Lovely, gorgeous, spectacular art. The first thing I saw after getting off the train was nearly as good as art. A gaggle of broad-shouldered construction workers kitted out in sunkist orange. Mal suggested we get a quick cup of coffee in Pancras Station. She said "I think you'll like this train station."

I knew nothing about this historic terminus which is located in the heart of London and was really excited to explore it further. St. Pancras Station has been voted one of London's favourite landmarks and I can understand why. As you can see, it's interior is architectural genius. Originally called William Barlow's Shed, it's praised as one of the greatest feats of Victorian engineering. Barlow was chief engineer to the Midland Railway Company and undertook this project in around 1863. Historically, it served as a meeting place for soldiers during WWII. Many a movie and commercial has been filmed in St. Pancras in contemporary times and come Spring of 2011, the St. Pancras Renaissance London Hotel is to open doors to a 244 bed project. There is so much more I could write about this splendid depot but would only be repeating much of the information that's in the website link included at the bottom of this Prairie post. Hopefully, I've sparked your interest to read more about the rich history of St. Pancras. 

There are two artists who have had a significant role in making Prancras special. The first, the talented Martin Jennings is responsible for this brilliant sculpture of famous Poet Laureate, Sir John Betjeman. In 1967, Betjeman, through broadcasting and journalism, took up the cause to save the rail station from being demolished. His adamant mission distinguished St. Pancras as a historic landmark and renovations to improve the building's character begin in the 1990's. This bronze masterpiece of Sir Betjeman, gazes eternally upward into the apex of his beloved St. Pancras. Jenning's has captured a perfect likeness of Sir Betjeman - his work is remarkable !

This 9 meter {29 foot} bronze couple in the photo below are eternally locked together in an embrace that sweeps you up in the moment. Virtuoso artist Paul Day, created this sculpture weighing 5 tons and aptly named it "The Meeting Place." This majestic copper and tin couple pay tribute to this lovely old rail station in an affectionate entwine. To me personally, they signify and contain all the heart and emotion of this building. If you think about it, how many sad goodbyes and joyous reunions have taken place in this lovely old structure. If only those old bricks could speak, the stories we would hear !!

The plinth that this bronze statue sets on is so incredibly intricate in it's detail, that one has to gaze at each small stone story for a long while so as to interpret what is really happening. If you ever get a chance to see it in person, you'll notice that each sculpted vignette evokes feelings of patriotism, humour, joy and sorrow. It very much defines what is, Britain.

Next stop was the London Museum. As we exited the underground, we were greeted by this unusual sign. It made me think for a moment - if I don't wet my pants when seeing this play, could I get a refund ? And also,  do they include a diaper or perhaps give you a dry pair of knickers with each ticket you purchase ? It must be incredibly funny.

We stopped here in Trafalgar Square, near the door to the National Gallery and Mal says to me "That's Nelson's Column." I researched this stone monument and learned that Nelson's Column pays homage to one of England most important heros - Admiral Nelson who defeated Napoleon and additionally was victorious against the Spanish in several other important battles. Nelson lost a limb and an eye and eventually his life in defending his beloved England. 

And here we are, at the steps of The National Gallery. 

Sorry, but I cannot recall who painted this nude beauty - she's lovely.

I adore this Paris street scene by Pissarro. 

The Flemish artist Jan Van Eyck's  "The Arnolfini Marriage" My son-in-law commented that the groom looks a lot like Vladimir Putin. I would have to agree with you Daniel !

 Caillebotte "Man Having Bath"

Degas is one of my favourite artists and I so love his rendering of a day at the beach.

 

The lighting on this canvas, the way in which the artist highlighted "Mademoiselle de Pompadour" is glorious.

Monet - "Ladies With Umbrellas"

http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/canaletto-exhibition-film

I found this link on the National Gallery website. A splendid and informative film on Venice and the artist Canaletto. I was quite taken with his richly colouered and meticulously detailed paintings.  

"Regatta On The Grand Canal"

Renoir - "Nude Woman Bather"

"The Execution of Lady Jane Grey" by Paul Delaroche. A very moving portrait of her last moments.

I saw my art and was satiated. Next, was a quick walk through the area of Notting Hill. Mal thought I would enjoy mooching in the shops - especially this one. A shop overflowing with so much {Brit.} jewellery that I was overwhelmed taking it all in.

And sparkly chandeliers as well !

Do you recognize this famous store front ? It's the book store from the movie "Notting Hill" with Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts.

I snapped this shot in the All Saints {Spitafields} shop in Notting Hill. I love their edgy clothes, grunge boots and especially this wall lined chock full of old, foot pedal driven sewing machines.

It was getting dark and starting to spit rain as we headed back to catch the train. I happened to spy  this Italian pizza restaurant and took an image of this attention catching window. Yes, that is a real car in the window. A day into London - it all goes by too fast ! Thank you Mal ❤ !!

http://www.stpancras.com/

http://www.pauldaysculpture.com/

http://www.martinjennings.com/betjeman.html

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Blah Blah Blog

The last Bank Holiday, was a few weeks ago on a Monday. I was bored and going through withdrawals. Not from Hobgoblin, but from not using my camera for a while. I decided to go for a walk and snap thirty photos no matter how boring or ordinary the subject matter. No editing or enhancements - photos au naturale: organic, unprocessed, pure and wholesome. So what I'm saying here is - I snapped some pretty damn boring photos. England has several Bank Holidays every year and on these days, the banks are closed as are some businesses and typically, market townships have a really, really larger than normal Market. My first photo subject were these lovely hanging flower baskets which go up every season. 

I rode my bike through this street four hours ago and it was heaving with pedestrians; tourists with their cameras snapping the scenic Great River Ouse, little old, white-haired ladies pulley their shopping trolleys, dogs walking their owners, children with ice-cream smeared faces, joggers and serious bike enthusiasts in their acid coloured, skin tight, spandex outfits. I have to tell you that these people were really getting on my nerves so I turned my bike around, made for home and locked myself in the bedroom. Now, four hours later, I returned to a nearly empty town. It was a bit surreal as just a few hours ago, it was wall to wall humans and market stalls.

Below is a photo of the old Woolies store. Better known in America as Woolworths. The building looks so much better than it used to. They've recently painted and renovated the interior, yet it remains empty. Please God, don't let Tesco's lease this building. I despise Tesco.

I spied a few souls down this road. Anywhere there's a pub, there will be breath. The gorgeous La Muse Boutique is on this street as is The Nelson's Head pub. Or as the locals call it: Nellies. Do you see the pub sign with Mr. Nelson's face ? I really must research him someday. Could this be the famous Lord Admiral Nelson ?

It was a beautiful day and the sky floated those big, billowy clouds I so love much. Everything was just fine. Until HE showed up. Man and his yellow beast.

Bloody hell - it was the street sweeper ! He drove down the opposite side of the street, made a u-turn and came up behind me. I had to jump into the entrance of a shop to avoid getting run over. He then swung around and started to come straight for me. I ducked back into the shop foyer again. Missed me - HA!

When his radar didn't detect me, he went after this lady sitting on the steps of the ke-bob shop. You can hardly see her there - maybe her head is all. This yellow machine drove up on the sidewalk and stopped within inches of her. She had to jump up to get out of his way. Torturer !!

I walked around the corner of Piggotts Jewelers and sweet Mother !! This man and his machine were relentless - after me again ! 

It may have read Merryland on the street sign but really, it wasn't.

Once again I hopped out of the way - this crazy man and his machine were not going around me. I let him go by and to my shock/horror, when I walked around the corner to Market Street, discovered that it was multiplying ! Two larger yellow ones - must be the Mum and Dad of the little yellow beast. 

 

I was safe now. Mum and Dad were distracting the little yellow one. Now back to the blah-blah photos or maybe I should call it "life as it really is after a Bank Holiday Market." The few remaining people were those cleaning up the streets of rubbish and folding up their pavilions. One of the big yellow beasts has moved closer so that I'm in his line of sight - he's watching me.

 

To think just a few hours ago there were fruit and veg stands, fabrics, clothes, knick knacks, bread, cheese, fish, meats, sewing notions and fabric, magazines, dvd's, yarn, watches, mobile phones, homemade jams and breads, shoes, jewelry {jewellery: British spelling} home interior items, rugs, picture frames, cheese .... I could go on and on but you get the idea. Oh, and chickens - sometimes they bring live chickens.

 

Now these two below were mighty interesting. They were squabbling about how to fold this tarp. He was bossing her around and she wasn't having it. I thought it might come to blows but it ended fine, no blood.

 

Here we have, a pile of bagged rubbish and boxes, boys on their bikes and the local street personalities. The one guy always loiters outside the newly renovated Corn Exchange, strumming and singing for his beer money. He plays the same two songs over and over again, day and night, night and day, constantly. One tune he does is Creedence Clearwater Revival's - Lodi. I wonder if this guy has ever been to Lodi, let alone knows where it is. I wonder if he takes requests ?

 

And here is my bank - Lloyds. I love this old building - especially the windows.

   

A little bit of action going on at the White Hart Pub. See what I mean ? Pub = people = breath.

 

I peeked through the green doors of the Hyperion Antiques shop. This is the backyard to the shop where you might find a really cheap bargain, stuff that never was bought at auction. I snoop here every week. I would love to be a wheeler and dealer someday ! I like junk. It's intriguing and always has a history of some sort.

 

I walk by these two benches all the time but never see anyone sitting on them. I never really thought about how pretty this setting was until I took this photo - benches, carved rock monument and the flower garden. Maybe no one sits here because it is right next to the street where the buses pull into the St. Ives bus station. Probably not the best place for an asthmatic to sit. 'cough, cough, gasp, acckk !"

 

Okay, so the photo below is the St. Ives bus station. If you happen to be in town in the early morning, you might see me whizzing by, running in my heels to catch my bus. It's good for a laugh if you do see me, as by the time I board the bus, my polyester skirt has turned sideways and is half way up to my waist, my hair looks as if I combed it with a rake or not combed it {take your pick on that one} and my mascara, depending how brisk the air is that day, will be melted and streaked down my cheeks from my eyes watering as I run in the cold air. Not a pretty sight. I seem to leave the house all perfect and put together and then the "am I going to miss my bus{?}" panic sets in and I become a wild woman running through the alleys and secret passages of St. Ives. 

 

This is like something out of a Stephen King movie - look at this yellow stalker - after me again !!!! Do you see anyone driving it ? But here it was coming after me on the sidewalk !!!

I popped into this alley called Church Passage to escape the yellow demon. Down this passage you will find; a salon, a charity shop, boxing academy, flower shop, taxi office, clothing boutique, architects, etc. And of course, a few churches.

 

This is the Spiritualist Church. I see from the flyers in the window that they will be having readings in November. I plan to book in. Should be interesting.

 

Swan graffiti. It's been on this wall ever since I can remember. 

 

And coming full circle I find myself at the quay. The swans are swimming towards me because they think I have bread for them. Little beggars !! I love feeding the ducks. They appreciate the crumbs. The swans are the greedy, bossy types.

One last look down Bridge Street. I'm looking that cross of wood in Woolies. Might be that the wood is really old and when they refreshed the building with paint, the Preservation Society said not to paint those crossbars of wood. Just guessing here.
 
 

Until next time.

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St. Ives 900 Year Charter Celebration

Last Saturday and Sunday - 19th & 20th June - 800 Civil War re-enactors from Fairfax Batalia descended on St. Ives to perform a mock {1645 circa} battle. It was all part of the 2010 ongoing celebration, to mark the historic 900 year old charter of this sleepy little market township. Fairfax Batalia are known for their high standards of performing with historical accuracy and imparting events in an educational fashion to the public. I thought it especially good for the children. They also set up a living history encampment. Here are some photos of the blacksmith. See that apple on the table ? I was hoping he would roast it on the fire for me. I was feeling a bit peckish.

 

 

 

The tent and workspace of the cane crafter. He was most likely taking a siesta in his tent.

 

Not sure what it was this gentleman does. He had food on that table but acted very busy so I dared not bother him to ask. I suppose he sold food. I'm very shy when I take photos and tend not to bother people.

 

He scripted and she wove baskets. I loved the man's costume - he really looked the part.

 

 

 

Here comes the militia. The costumes were highly authentic and the performers were really having fun with it. I looked really hard but Russell Crowe was no where to be found. Aye, aye, aye, so disappointed !

 

I assume those wooden baubles are carriers for gunpowder.

 

The charter of St. Ives was granted to the Abbott of Ramsey by King Henry I in the year 1110.  It allowed the Abbot to hold a fair at Slepe for eight days each year. Back in 1110 St Ives was still known by its Anglo-Saxon name, Slepe.  The St Ives 1110 charter is a few centuries older than the nearby townships of Huntingdon {800 year old charter} and Godmanchester {900 year old charter come 2012}. The granting of the charter is the moment Slepe changed from a village to a town.

 

 

The discovery of a stone coffin, which the Abbot of Ramsey insisted contained the body of the Persian bishop St Ivo, led to a change of name for the town. This discovery increased revenues for the abbot because pilgrims flocked to visit the saint. History does not explain why a Persian bishop might have been visiting a tiny place like Slepe.

 

The firing of cannons for this performance was quite impressive - the noise reverberated into my ribcage and made myself and all the little children next to me, jump like sissies with every ka-boom ! A hundredtimes louder and certainly more kick than my retired, puny Browning 410. 

 

 

This looked a bit painful. Don't think I'd care to be the man in the centre of the dog pile.

 

 

It looked to be real gunpowder charges the actors were firing. I love the grimace on the one man's face.

 

 

There they go again. Ouch, grunt, ugh !

 

The celebration also included a mock "blowing up" of St. Ives Chapel Bridge and a wreath laying ceremony at the feet of Oliver Cromwell's statue in the Market Square. 

 

I felt very privileged to witness this epic event - a once in a lifetime celebration !!

 
 
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The Manor

Two weeks ago on a Sunday, I made my way across the meadow to the picturesque village of Hemingford Grey. My plan was to visit the colouful gardens of The Manor.  I followed this little border collie, who seemed to know his way across the field. His master, who was walking far behind me was finding it quite impossible to keep up with the high-spirited canine. 

 

I love walking the path and observing the changes that the different seasons bring. So many pretty flowers in cottage gardens and rose vines, peeking out along the path, greeting you along the way. Since it's middle of June, some variety of flowers have bloomed full strength already and were showing signs of weary wear. Nevertheless, the colour of nature paces its glory and soon, the next cycle of blooms will appear for bees and birds and we, the appreciative admirers.

 

I stopped along the trail to take a photo of a water fountain that I've snapped a hundred times over. You may have seen it on one of my winter blogs.  Adorned with a naked cherub, clutching a fish, which spits water from it's mouth, I'm always compelled to take the picture because the setting is so mystical and overgrown with shrubs and trees. I was leaning into the wonky, wire fence when I heard a voice behind me say "are you okay dear?"  I looked up to see a white haired lady. She thought I was sick and was leaning over the fence to - well you know. No, no, I'm fine and thank you for asking. To which she replied in a rather haughty voice "well, it would've been rude of me not to ask you my dear." So proper, these English ! Little did I know, I would see her again in just a few minutes.

 

So back now to my mission - this is a winter photo of The Manor, taken by yours truly. It was the residence of famous author and talented quilter, Lucy Boston, who lived here for over fifty years {1892 - 1990} Lucy penned a series of famous children's books, the first one being - The Children Of Green Knowe. As many writers do, she fashioned the characters in her books after people she knew. This amazing woman published her first book{s} when she was in her sixties. 

  

There was an admission fee to be paid at the gate and lo and behold, the money taker was the same white haired woman who I met on the trail.  Her name was Kay and she was adorable. I commented on the overcast sky and Kay says to me; "Because I'm an optimist, I brought my sun hat and because I'm also a pessimist, I brought me {my} rain hat as well. So as you can see, I'm very balanced in attitude and well prepared for the climate." Her comment made me smile big. Kay suggested that I go first, to the back of the house and visit the secret garden. I was the only person in that stunning garden, just myself and some chirpy songbirds.

 

 

How charming is this ? A wood and iron bench, covered by a leafy, arched canopy of branches. It faced five, tree stump pedestals. My fantasy would be, to sit under this green canopy on a warm summer's night, listening to classical musicians {seated on those pedestals on comfy cushion of course} playing Bach's Double Violin Concerto in D minor 2nd movement - Largo. And sipping on a fruited Pimm's of course.

 

This ancient, sleeping tree trunk was at least 25 feet long.  Not only was it beautiful, covered in lichen and fungi, it most likely serves as home to hundreds of insects. Despite the fact it's no longer alive,  I like that this time-worn, wooden skeleton has been left here to sleep and to serve a purpose in nature.

 

Lucy Boston lived to be 98 years old, quilting and gardening, well into her last years. Her talented son Peter, was illustrator for her books and also grew up to be an architect. He shared a common passion with his Mother, to lovingly restore The Manor. Diana Boston, Peter's widow and Lucy's daughter-in-law, still lives here and fortunately for us, keeps the legacy alive. Diana who is also a writer, penned a book called "The Patchworks of Lucy Boston." The book includes history and photographs of Lucy's splendid quilts. 

 

 

 

Not only is The Manor surrounded by a vibrant array of  flowers, it's lawn is dotted with shrubby topiary, that are chiseled into the shape of chess pieces. It's a very fairy tale setting and a wonderful place to just sit and "be."

 

 

 

The Red Cross ladies were also there, serving tea, coffee and yummy home-made cakes and scones. I couldn't resist. I just had to have a cup of tea and a slice of apricot cake.  So quintessentially English.

 

Nostalgia - I remember when I was a little girl, my Mum having a set of these pretty dishes. I'm not entirely sure, but I think that they might be called "Blue Willow." One by one, over the years, they ended up broken or chipped. My Mum has one, perfect dessert plate left and still uses it for her toast.

 

 

I sat here at this table, sipping tea, stuffing my face with cake and taking in the lovely view. The sun soon broke through the cloud covering and along with the sun, so came more visitors to The Manor. 

 

On my next visit, I hope to take a tour of the inside of the house. At the bottom of this post, I'm including a link to the The Manor website, which details it's fascinating history, directions on how to get there and how to arrange to see the interior of this Norman styled house. 

 

It was difficult to tear myself away from this tranquil place - I loved sitting here amongst the flowers.

 

So off I go, following the worn path across the meadow, back to my St. Ives.

 

http://www.greenknowe.co.uk/
 
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Cow Love

If you're a new reader to Prairie - welcome ! This is the 100th posting to my little Prairie blog and I'm dedicating it to my muse - the cow. After all, cows are the reason I started blogging in the first place. Up until two years ago, I only thought of cows as delicious. Although I've become close to them, I will eat the occasional steak and cheeseburger. And yet, after endless hours of observation and interacting with bovinus, I consider them to be more than just dinner. I now see them as intelligent, interesting and extremely entertaining creatures. Let me tell you a few reasons why I love cows so much.                                  

 

 Cows are funny. I get the humour in them. 

 

Discriminating and fussy. Here are my mates sheltering under the trees outside my window, finding cover from the rain. You and I would do the same thing, right? See, not so stupid after all.

 

I swear, sometimes I feel they're trying to communicate with me. Look at the ears. Like some sort of secret cow language, these ear wags. 

 

Right ear.....

 

Now the left ear. The tail swishing must be part of the secret code also.

 

Cows are colourful and romantic even.

 

Cows can be a surreal mix of fact and fantasy. They appear in fairy tales, fables and limericks. 

 

Artists sketch them, painters brush them into different settings and colours.

 Just like me - they love to kiss !!

 

But the thing I like best about cows, is the poker-faced stare. Deadpan. 

 

There it is again, the stare. This, is why I stand in a field, getting sprinkled by rain, annoyed by gnats and having to smell the cow poop on my shoes, to capture that stare - that's my reward. And it only happens for only a few seconds and then, the head goes down and it's back to some serious eating.

 

I know what you're thinking. The woman takes too many photos of cows. You're thinking I'm a nutter. Let me say in my defense, that I'm not the only photographer who has become consumed with a subject. Take for instance, Alfred Stieglitz, the renown photographer, who took over 300 known and catalogued photos of his wife's breasts, stomach, buttocks and other bits - over and over and over again. I like to think, that my cow's bits are far more interesting than Georgia O'Keeffe's bits.                                  

 

Cows are posers - they are experts at juxtaposing. 

 

So because it's Prairie's 100th blog post, I wanted to celebrate by having a little contest. The Reader who can come up with the funniest caption for the photo below, will win one of my lovely cow cards. Remember to think like a cow !

 

So I love you and leave you now and end this post with a few inspiring cow quotes.

"All the good ideas I ever had came to me while milking a cow" Grant Wood - American Artist                                                  

"Opie, you haven't finished your milk. We can't put it back in the cow you know." Aunt Bea - Mayberry RFD

Who was the first guy who looked at a cow and said "I think I'll drink whatever comes out of those things when I squeeze them"  Calvin and Hobbs - Fictional Comic Characters                                                                                        

"If happiness truly consisted in physical ease and freedom from care, then the happiest individual would not be either a man nor a woman: it would be, I think, an American cow."  William Lyons Phelps - Educator                                         

"Don't have a cow man."  Bart Simpson - The Simpsons                                                                                                                    

"I'm all about cows and the proof of it is on the bottom of my shoes."  Marsha Stewart - Author of Prairie                                            

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Babies

I know a few things about babies - I should do as I raised two little ankle biters of my own. The first thing I know is, babies make you smile. Secondly, babies speak a universal language in how they cry, fuss, laugh, play and bicker. Everyone loves to watch them. Finally, someone made a brilliant movie about those little neonate busters. "Babies" follows and documents four little babies, from birth to taking those first steps. Introducing, Ponijao, from Nambia; Bayarjargal, who lives in Mongolia: then Mari from Tokyo, Japan; and Hattie from San Francisco, USA. I'm sure when you watch it, you may see your own child in some of the cinematic vignettes. This trailer shows a beautifully filmed, arts documentary. I hope it makes you smile just a little !

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California Cows

I'm thinking about cows this morning, this first day of 2010.  I may  have to walk to the Lakes and check on the boys one more time, I worry about them so. All around the Mill, the pastures are flooding from the recent snow and rain. But then again, maybe I'll just stay in and watch these videos of the California Cows instead. Big headache today - ouch ! Hope everyone had a great New Years Eve. 

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Winter Walk At The Lakes

The snow is melted away now, replaced by dark grey skies and rain. As it is such a rare thing and so beautiful,  I wanted to share one more blog post of the lovely snow. This day, I walked to the Lakes to visit my French breed cows. They're the only ones left now.  The grumpy boys in the meadow outside my window, were spirited away many weeks ago. The red coated Herefords on the other side of the river, the ones who loved to hang out under the bridge with all of the graffiti - they've also been picked up by the farmer and taken back to the barn for winter. So here I go - across Bridge Street and into the wooded pathway to the Lakes. 

 

 

 

 

Last year, there were almost 20 Lim-moo-sin cows. Ha Ha Ha! Get it ? This little group of 9 were a grumpy lot. Huddled together against the shrubs and trees for shelter against the cold - not even my singing could get a rise out of them. Which is surprising, as I can always draw attention to myself with my singing. Not in a good way. Oh yes, I will not go into how cold my ass cheeks got today, like I did the last blog. I was barraged with letters of condolence for my bum. Anyway, thank you for your concern. Can I just say though, how snotty my nose was this day - like a runny spout - like a cow's nose. Okay, enough said.

 

This, was the best I could get from them. Just a peek between the fence planks.

 

The minute the farmer showed up in his little white truck, the back end full of bales of hay, they were off !!

 

One last glance. He probably thought I wanted his hay.

 

It's all about the photos now......

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The path that leads back to St. Ives. So ready for that cup of tea.

 
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Alma

Alma, is a beautifully done, animated film with a haunting finale. So here's wishing all of you a very creepy Christmas ! Just kidding. Hope your day is full of smiles, laughter and love. Thank you, for your constant support this last year and thanks also, for reading my strange little Prairie blog. Now, go play nice with the in-laws, don't eat too much and drive careful.  {Hugs} x x

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Winter Paradise

England hasn't seen this much snow in years. As you might guess, it's causing chaos on the roads and a few pour souls have been found, frozen and breathless. A hundred years ago, the Great River Ouse was used as ice skating rink and many of the those vintage skates are now housed as a fine display in the St. Ives. museum. I've seen sepia photos of women from that era, skating in long, woolen skirts. I wonder how heavy and awkward that must have been. And what ever happened to those furry muffs women used to wear to keep their hands warm ? Could it be, they haven't come back into style again because of mobile phones - we need to keep our hands free to text. Sad. So this photo below, was the view from my window two days ago. Snow.

 

The legendary Jack Frost is touching his icy finger to all blossom, leaf and stem. One caress and nature sleeps and then dies, it's task completed for another  year. This lovely rose is putting up a worthy fight.  

 

Everything is a picture postcard. Dusted white, serene and quiet.

 

I love this old{e} building. Especially the door. I stood there thinking of all the things I could make from that door. A table, lovely shabby chic photo frames. A door even.

 

I returned to the Thicket Path to smell the snow - that crisp, fresh, perfect winter scent. I've decided that Winter has it's own bouquet made up of cinnamon, mulled wine, reflection, laughter, hope of new beginnings, love of family and friends, pine, ribbons and wrapping paper, mittens and frosty breath.

Can you smell it ?

 

 

Ha Ha Ha ! Just try to bite my fingers now you naughty horse ! He doesn't look too happy now does he, standing there in the cold. I shouted out "I have a carrot for you." But he never even looked up. Actually, I didn't have a carrot. Maybe I should knit him a hat. Poor fellow.

 

 

I was feeling ambitious and so, walked the entire six miles round the villages. This little ginger bread cottage is one of the first you will see when you walk into the village of Houghton. It's lovely !

 

I'm always amazed at how some of the images I take, look like a period painting. It's not me, it's England !

 

A snowy coat gives even these old chairs a more interesting veneer.

 

I was surprised to see this little fountain flowing freely in in cold weather. Do you want to know how cold it was to walk the six miles ? Let me tell you then. On me, there are two body parts that always get cold. My fingers and my bum. Or as I would say to my American readers, my ass cheeks. Now, I have two different theories about my bum getting so cold. Either it really is cold or, there's just so much of it .....   What am I like then ? Ha Ha Ha !

 

This idyllic, landscaped house is supposedly the oldest house in this area. It was the home of a famous writer/poet. Maybe for a future blog post - I'll write about the history of this house and the occupants. The gardens are open to the public - I think for a donation of course. The house offers tours also.

 

 

I was ever so happy to see the church and St. Ives on the horizon. By now, I had no feeling in my fingers and my bum was numb. The motor on my Nikon lens was not working either, so I stuck my camera under my coat to warm it a bit. In spite of all of my shivering, I was enjoying my walk.

 

I happened to meet a Scottish chap whilst walking across the last stretch, he was taking his daily exercise round the meadow. He looked at my red face and then at my feet and said "where are your wellies my dear ?" My trousers were soaked half way up my to my knees. I was wearing my water proof hiking boots and strayed off the path, wading through a large pool of ankle deep water in this meadow. I hadn't even noticed. All I could think of by now, was getting home and having a cuppa ! 

 

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Tweety and Sylvester

Suffering succotash ! Go on, be a kid for 7 minutes and 27 seconds - it's Christmas !

 

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1941 English Christmas

I found this amazing black and white footage from the British Film Institute - a rare look into what it was like for the citizens of Britain during war days.  I enjoyed seeing the bit about Pantomime, or Panto - as the British affectionately call it. During my school days in America , we called them Christmas plays, the theme usually based on Yuletide. Panto, always performed at Christmas time, is an exaggerated, theatrical and musical stage production. Usually based around a fairy tale or nursery rhyme. I think it originates from the Romans - maybe they brought this with when they inhabited Old{e} England. The first Panto that I saw, was absolutely brilliant, slapstick comedy !!

Towards the end of the film, you'll see how Londoners took measures for self-preservation, sleeping underground in Tube Stations. From what I've heard, Brits were given ration cards well into the 1950's, for food and petrol. America had it easy - I know from being born in 1956, life was good and my family lacked for nothing.   

They say, Christmas is the time to tally blessings, no matter how big or small. Having a roof and food in your belly are critical of course,  but most importantly are blessings without any materialistic value such as family, friends, physical and spiritual health. They are, what enrich and complete our lives.  It would be a cold, cold world without these - indeed.  Up to Christmas, I'm posting Christmas related things. From myself and the naughty cows - love to you all. Enjoy !

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Old Fashioned Christmas

I'm off to take more snowy photos for my new, mini photo card boxed sets. More on this later ! I love a bit of silly escapism - a classic Green Acres Christmas.  I'm not sure whether this sitcom broadcast in England, so what a treat this will be for you.  People in America thought Green Acres was a documentary. The second video features Arnold the Pig and a hot kissing scene with Mr. & Mrs. Ziffel. And a bonus - recipe ideas for hot cakes. Real tree or artificial tree - which do you prefer ??  Enjoy !!

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Walking the Thicket

I adore this time of year in England. yes, it's cold and yes, sometimes the wind blows like a hurricane but last Sunday was perfect - temperate and still as stone, no wind at all. A fitting day to walk the remarkable Thicket path. During summer months, I sometimes walk the six miles down the Thicket to Houghton, then through the quaint villages of Hemingford Abbot and Hemingford Grey and back again to St. Ives. With two pubs on the trail, you can't go wrong. 

 

Seldom, do I ever pass a graveyard without taking a photo. Standing in front of those timeworn headstones, reading names of people who lived and breathed almost 200 years ago, fills me with wonder. I can't help envisioning who they may have been whilst full of the breath of life - rich, poor, noble status, servant or cobbler. The oldest engraving still identifiable, is late 1700's.

 

 

Across the river, to the right of the churchyard, is Holt island. Hundreds of years ago on this island, reeds were harvested from osier beds and used for thatch. Reed was preferred over wheat straw for it's longer, more durable constitution. In the 1930's, Holt Island was presented to the City of St. Ives, by the family who once owned it. It's now a popular nature preserve, open for walks from April to September.

 

All Saint's Church, is St. Ives Parish Church and most possibly the oldest. It was founded in 970.

 

Hard to believe, the green was empty except for one lone golfer. I stepped over the barbed fence that was half down on the ground and stepped onto the golf course for a photo - the sunlight was so beautiful this day, casting it's long golden fingers on leaf and branch, making every woody fiber, glow with life.

 

 

I was hoping to catch a glimpse of a gnome or a wood fairy on this magical trail. I stood very still and listened, hoping the ancient Tree Man would speak to me. I suspect, he'll only visit me in my dreams.

 

The cows will not like this at all. I made friends with some horses. Please don't tell them.

 

As I was leaning on the fence, this teenager came trotting over to me from far afield. My whiskered friend was looking for a treat, I think. Just look at his bristled snout !! I had everything possible in my camera bag, except for a carrot. 

 

I wasn't paying attention, fiddling with my camera and at the same time, stroking him on the nose. That cheeky horse bit my fingers !!  Jeez Louise, that hurt !!

 

 

When I walk alone on this trail, I constantly look up and behind me and from side to side, for what I consider, a window.  Have you ever looked out a window at a scene that was so beautiful, it looked a painting, framed in by the window sill ? This, is how I attempt to take my photos - looking through that imaginary window frame for a worthy vignette.

 

The Thicket path runs parallel to the Great River Ouse and if you were to sit on this bench, you would have a lovely view of river and green field.

 

The complexity of textures, colours and layers and the earthy fragrance of this modest woodland are truly captivating. I can see how writers such as Emerson and Thoreau, were so inspired by nature.

 

It doesn't translate very well in this photograph below, but the shrubs behind these spindled trees were sparkling, heavy with raindrops. Lovely.

 

Maybe someday you will visit St. Ives and we can walk the Thicket together.

 

Please have a look at this link featuring vintage photos of St. Ives and it's history.

http://www.stives-town.info/river_great_ouse/local_history_of_the_river.asp

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Emily Loizeau

The first time I watched this video, I mistook Emily Loizeau for American actress, Parker Posey. The resemblance is amazing. "Je Suis Jalouse" is a lovely, bouncy tune and I found myself humming it all day long. This can be really torturous though, if the song happens to be annoying ! I've experienced this with songs by Neil Diamond,  Michael McDonald and James Blunt. Has this ever happened to you ? You try to go to sleep and there it is, still rolling around in your head. Well, you may as well get up and drink a few beers. I've found, that a few bottles of Adnams Broadside, helps me to forget most anything.

I've learned this week, that Heroes really do exist. Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for your support and encouragement! The cows also would like to thank you. So Prairie lives on into 2010. You're stuck with me for another year of strange, stupefying, spectacular, extraordinary, stunning, astounding Prairie blogs. Just so you know, I borrowed those adjectives from my Thesaurus. 

I'm including a link to Emily's website. It's one of those sites,so cleverly designed, you go "wow!"  http://www.emilyloizeau.fr/

Emily is very, very, very jalouse (jealous) in this video.  JEALOUS !!

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Sunday in St. Ives

It's the changing of seasons here in St. Ives.  The horrific winds from last week have stripped the trees bare of their leafy colours and the conkers have also fell victim - scattered about on the paths and walkways. Winter is a strange and mysterious time. Mother earth sleeps, producing no colours nor signs of life and routines are ruled by ebb and flow of light. Darkness settles in on St. Ives by four p.m. these days. I wandered familiar paths last  Sunday - stopping by the quay to watch the bird life.

 

It's never quiet when the seagulls hang about. Greedy busters ! There have been reports of people being attacked by gulls.  One elderly lady was so startled as it swooped down, she fell and broke her wrist. They can be a bit cheeky. Wish I could post an audio of them screeching  "me, me me" and a video of how they fight and bicker over the snippets of bread - not unlike women at a 50% off sale event. Have you ever noticed how gulls always perch the same direction on a roof - like little soldiers ?

 

 

The Bridge Chapel had open doors this Sunday - they do this only a few times a year, December especially, being a month they like to ask for donations for this lovely old building. I discovered a fantastic website authored by Francis Firth - I will post a link at the end of this post - the site has oodles of black and white, vintage photos of St. Ives. This is what the Chapel looked like many, many years ago. Notice the difference in the bridge arches, some being round and some being pointed - evidence of the structure being re-built.

There's a placard on the quay that gives a concise history of the chapel. 

 

This, is what the chapel looks like today - it's missing the layer-cake, top story. I captured some great photos of those crazy birds from this balcony.  The seagulls swooped so close to me, I could feel the whoosh of air on my face as they flew by.

 

 

I love this little room. I wish though, that the Society would put more effort into decorating the inside. It has those lovely arched, lead glass windows that would be so pretty, embellished with holly and berries. Not all that inspiring. I'll probably get some raging emails for my comments.

 

 

See the dirt and cobwebs on the window ? It's leftover since Oliver Cromwell was alive ! Yep, that dirt and those cobwebs are 359 years old. The British take pride in protecting anything historical.

 

I've never been in the what I call the "basement" of the chapel. It was an absorbing moment,  to stand in that room and feel the energy - the ghosts of the past. If only stone and wood could speak. The women that were volunteering that day were so friendly and didn't mind me asking, if I could move some personal things out of the way for to take photos - like their lunch boxes, thermoses and shopping bags. No heat in the chapel either and they were bundled up - including mittens. Bless em.

 

After visiting the chapel, I meandered down to the churchyard. I love this churchyard. Oliver Cromwell attend church services here - when he found spare time from executing people. 

 

 

I saw this strange looking duck with a tuft of feathers on it's head.  It reminded me of the character in the little book I wrote a few years ago. I wrote this children's book called "Stuck As A Duck" which I sent out to 30 some publishers - it got favourable comments, but they said it was too long for the age group. I must fix it some day. I need an illustrator, know of anyone ? Anyway - the story is about the adventures of a little boy who turns into a duck and on top of his head is a tuft of hair, that never turned into feathers. Am I boring you - waffling on ? What sort of duck is this anyway ? He was an evil little thing, kept nipping at all the other birds. Very bossy.

 

Every once in a while, a hot air balloon magically appears over the skies of 

St. Ives.

 

I could watch the birds all day - makes me wish I could fly.

 

 

I think it fitting to close with words penned by the great Bard himself. My hero.

"That time of year thou mayest in me behold

  when yellow leaves, or none, or few, may hang

  Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

  Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang"

- William Shakespeare -

   Sonnet LXIII

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 http://www.francisfrith.com/st-ives,cambridgeshire/photos/

http://www.worldconkerchampionships.com/html/about_conkers.html

http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/cromwell_oliver.shtml

Emilie Simon

I love this video and just had to post it. Emilie Simon is exquisite in every way. 

Today was the coldest day on record in Cambridgeshire, so far this season. Not officially winter yet - but it feels like it, after all, it is December 1st today. I stopped by the Nut Shop to say hello to the ladies that work there. I wasn't wearing a hat which is unusual for me.  They chastised me for coming out in the cold without one. Those women are so sweet to say that. If I don't go into the shop, they always wave and smile at me through the window as I walk by. I hope where ever you live - you are keeping toasty warm.

Twelve more days to go until my Type Pad subscription is due. I'm thinking about whether I will continue with my quirky little blog or send it off into the ether of blogger history. Hang it up or go on ? 

Thanks for reading Prairie - share the love !

Four Days in Nice

I haven't posted lately because I've been away to France for four days and as soon as I returned, I had to cram for the UK Theory Test.  I'm happy to write that I've passed this first part of the test ! Next comes the Practical part, which is the driving test with the UK drive instructor sitting next to me in the car, barking out instructions like: "STAY ON THE LEFT SIDE OF THE ROAD YOU DAFT AMERICAN !" I'd better get practicing. 

I visited Nice with my mate Corinne, who had never been there before. I had great fun taking her to see all of the local sites, like the Old Town, the two old Cemeteries, the port and a few other towns in the area. I wanted to especially be in Nice for the Monday Antiques Market - which I absolutely love ! So the photos I'm posting today, are mostly of the same places I've posted all the other times I've been to Nice. I will, at the bottom of this post, include links to my previous visits to Nice - just in case you haven't seen them.

We stayed in a very charming, Nicoise style apartment.  The owners had this nature theme going on, discreet touches of little statutes of: Chickens, ducks, fish, etc. The sitting room curtains, on closer inspection, I noticed had tiny, black, embroidered bumble bees and in the bedroom where I slept, the curtains had COWS of every colour ! I never knew this until I got ready for bed that evening. All I knew is that I when we chose which bedrooms we wanted, I had a really good feeling when I walked in that room. Now I know why. I love my cows. The kitchen was attractive and well kitted out with every possible appliance. It also had a little balcony with table and chairs, which looked out onto the old, crumbling buildings of the alley. 

 

The apartment was huge, 1500 square feet. My mate Mia, was to come on this holiday also - but she came down with a terrible cold in her head and chest and had to back out. I really missed having her along.

 

The weather stayed near a beautiful 20 c. (68 f.) the entire time we were there. For me, the Antiques Market was the highlight of the trip.  Corinne discovered and fell in love with an old, weathered, leather chair with chunky rolled arms - she regretfully had to leave it behind. As for me, I was all over the jewelry stands and loving the vintage pieces of linen fabric. Next time, I plan to drive to Nice with a large lorrie so I can fill it up !

 

 

 

 

In the afternoon, Corinne and I walked up the hill to visit the old castle ruins, the waterfall, cemeteries and to take in the spectacular views over the city of Nice. I know I've taken this photo many times, but I never can resist a shot of the earthy coloured, tiled roofs of the city.

 

 

I have this weird fascination with cemetery art and Nice, by far, has one of the most interesting assortment of tombs, statutes and headstones I've ever seen in my life. If anyone reading this post knows of any other intriguing  cemeteries - please send me an email. Maybe I should start doing a cemetery blog which features nothing but memorial garden art. I have come across a few already. So if photos of graveyards makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip these next photos. I took this photo because I liked the hues and tones of stone - pinks and grays - and the simplistic form.

 

Do you see the two women in the photo below? With a bucket of water and a sponge, they were lovingly washing the dirt from several family tombstones. It reminded me of the movie Volver, where in the opening scene, the cemetery is heaving full of women, cleaning the family memorial monuments. This is the Jewish cemetery. Corinne and I noticed on many of the grave monuments, there were small piles of rocks. Is this done by family members I wonder ? Perhaps every time they visit, they add a little stone to the pebble tower in remembrance of their loved ones. I must look into the significance of this. I've seen this one other time, when I was in Nepal - in the quiet valley of the memorial cemetery. Atop the graves of those brave adventurers who had succumbed to the mighty Sagamartha mountain range, were little pebble towers, each rock placed there with respect, by visitors passing by this spiritual spot.

 

 

 

 

Many of the grave sites are lovingly adorned with flowers - it's very touching.

 

 

 

When Corinne and I came across these two in the photo below - we stopped in our tracks. I must admit they gave me a creepy feeling. The young girl's eyes followed me everywhere, like a haunted oil painting.

 

Okay - on to one of my favourite villages - the ancient St. Paul de Vence. Last time I visited, was in January and many of the art and jewelry shops were closed for the season. This time - about 80% were still trading and what a day - just snooping around, looking at works by talented artisans. Whilst walking towards the entrance of the village, I saw this quaint cafe. The architecture reminds me of the little chapels one might find in Mexico. So rustic and pretty !

 

This art statement, a dress of  paper and twigs - was hanging on the stone wall as we walked under an arch entrance to the shops of the village. The paper bits were more like celluloid film material.

 

A trip to France just wouldn't be complete without a photo of a Cat !

 

I love this sculpture !!

 

I wanted to show you the beauty of the village, including what I walked on. Take a look at the incredible work put into the paths that meander through this historic place. Millions of  polished pebbles anchored in mortar. They were slippery little suckers - I kept sliding around because the soles of my shoes were smooth.

 

I discovered new pieces of art as we wandered about the village.

 

 

I've captured this little hidden-away square before - but this time I happened to catch this little buster playing in the water basin. She gives the image some life - innocent wonderment. 

 

As we walked down the hillside and exited the village of St. Paul de Vence, we came to the spot where the locals play their afternoon game of boules. Boules is a bit like bowling, sans the pins and with more flair and passion.  I've taken some striking images of the people on this graveled grounds. They take the game seriously and it's a wonderful tradition that strongly bonds the people together. I saw something I don't remember seeing the  last time I visited. This welded piece of  artwork - retired boules. I love it !

 

As we walked to the corner to catch the bus back to Nice, I came across a fruit and veg stand and happened to see this small bundle of radishes resting on a very old, water basin. It looked like a painting: shadowy in the background with light falling on the pungent root.

 

Day three - we took the 15 minute train ride to Antibe. So much better than the 60 minutes by bus.

 

Antibe harbor and in the background - a fortress.

 

We visited the Pablo Picasso Museum, a massive brick building, which housed not only Picasso's works but that of many other artists. I was impressed with the inside of the museum perhaps more than the artwork. The architecture, the floors, archways and stone walls were extraordinary. Corinne fell in love with the twisted, androgynous, bronze sculptures on the back-of- yard terrace of the museum. They stood stoically on the brick wall, their backs to the sea. 

 

Our last morning in Nice, we caught the bus to the sleepy village of Ville Franche Ser Mer. This is village of fishermen. Looking out over the harbor, we discovered a family run soap factory, which makes bespoke, organic soaps, lotions, perfumes and bath goodies: natural sponges, bath foam and skin brushes.  I love this market store front, displaying colourful fruit and vegetables. Shops like this one are common to the South of France. 

 

Okay - so the photo below is not very interesting, nor pretty - but I liked it - so I snapped it.

 

Inbetween our travels - we drank too much beer and ate too much cheese. It was wonderful. Now I'm back to England, where today, the wind is blowing a gale at 70 mph and it's pissing down with rain. Gotta love it !  Here are some links to my past visits to the South of France. 

http://prairie.typepad.com/my_weblog/2009/08/cimiteres-de-nice.html

http://prairie.typepad.com/my_weblog/2009/02/dogs-of-the-mediterranean.html

http://prairie.typepad.com/my_weblog/2009/01/boules.html

http://prairie.typepad.com/my_weblog/2009/01/images-of-nice-france.html

http://prairie.typepad.com/my_weblog/2009/01/en-france.html

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Everlasting Moments

Swedish director Jan Troell, directs this true-life-inspired account of Maria Larsson, and how her  life is transformed by a Contessa camera. The film, narrated by Maria's daughter Maja, unfolds beautifully in grainy, sepia tones, depicting the joys and tragedies of Swedish life in pre-war, 1900's. In spite of the fact her husband is an abusive, alcoholic laborer, womanizer - Maria stays in the relationship and has seven children with him. 

She forms a warm friendship with photographer and shop owner Mr. Pederson, when she visits his shop and attempts to sell a lottery-won camera for money. Instead of purchasing the Contessa, Pederson encourages her to try taking images. "Not everyone is endowed with the gift of seeing" he tells her. 

I was very much affected emotionally by this movie and can relate to Maria's evolving passion for photography.  In researching this movie, I found a You Tube video about the actual Larsson Family. Despite the fact it's in Swedish, sans subtitles, the gist of this mini-documentary is easy to follow. Here, you can see photos of Maria, her family and many of the images she captured during her lifetime. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFS1s26212U

"Thanks for reading Prairie - share the love !"

Glory Days

From 1993 to 2003, I was a competitive, natural body builder. I ate, slept and breathed the lifestyle. I know many of you will be saying "Egad, body building?!" Well - maybe you wouldn't say egad, but you might be quite put off by the idea - BB doesn't appeal to the majority of people. "Ewww, all those muscles!" That's another comment I hear even today, when I mention my past life of sweating and grunting in the gym. People tell me, that they like the way I look now.  Squashy around the edges ?

The small populace of people that admire and follow the circuit of competition BB are extremely faithful to the sport. Many have never competed themselves, rather they had a spouse, partner or a friend who appeared on stage for competition and they attended the event to  be supportive. Many get hooked this way and some, even take up the physical challenge themselves, in hopes of reaching their goal of performing on stage. How did I get drawn into a strange hobby you might ask - read on:

Twenty three years ago, immediately after having my second baby, I began to get painful, chronic migraines. I can't remember ever having a headache before this. The pain was so severe, it kept me in bed for a good four days out of every week. Cold sweats, chills, shaking limbs and nausea signaled the end of every spell - this was the routine. And because I was nursing my daughter, the doctor refused me any type of medication for pain.  Not only did I have a newborn, I had a three year old as well. After about eight months, the headaches eased to sporadic episodes, but when I did get one, it was the same experience - I'd be sidelined by debilitating pain. Two years on, I remember lying on the living room, suffering intense pain and wondering if I was to spend the rest of my life in neuralgia hell.  I had tried all variety of headache meds - they did little good. Okay - enough of the dramatics, you get the picture - it was bad. I decided that very moment, while lying on my carpet, that I would start walking for one hour everyday.  Maybe, the fresh air would clear the pain. After three weeks of long walks, not  one headache.  I had my life back ! I was determined now, to join a gym and get really healthy.  It was in the gym that I met my mentor, Greg Monical. Greg was a seasoned trainer with all sorts of degrees in exercise physiology pinned on his wall. He was constantly sought out by professional basketball athletes from the local university - they looked to Greg  for advanced training.  He'd been observing me for many weeks and always said hello in passing. One day, he said to me "your arms are looking good, have you ever thought about bodybuilding?"  That was the day that changed my life. 

I was a single  Mum  by this time, living on a budget, and could barely afford the gym membership much less pay for a personal trainer. Although I didn't hire him, Greg designed a work out for me, told me to follow it for six weeks, then come back to him for an evaluation and  he'd  change the work out accordingly. He gave me a short demonstration of every exercise and sent me  downstairs to the weight room, telling me to get started. It was an  intimidating experience, to walk into a room filled with grunting, sweaty, muscular guys. I soon found out, that under those big stony, lumps of muscle were  a great group of guys with huge, soft hearts. They took me under their wing, giving me an abundance of help and advice on proper form. They even did sets with me ! These scary looking guys turned out to be  my greatest supporters, encouraging me at every stage of my training. After only three months of training, I did my first competition. Little ol' shy and modest me, now up on a stage in front of hundreds of people with just two little pieces of fabric covering my body. How my legs were shaking ! I had trained hard and lost a lot of weight - not perfect in the derriere region - but what a change on my back and arms. I never did, in all the years of training, take any drugs or steroids to enhance my growth - it was all done with hard work and diet.

 

Anyone reading this blog, that has any knowledge about BB competition, will spot right away that I was crap at posing. I watched videos and practiced for hours, grimacing and posing in front of the mirror, not really sure what I was doing. I did get help for a short time from an older woman, who used to do competition but she was worse at posing than I was and so, I was on my own here - too shy to ask my gym posse  for advice. BB posing has a profound effect on the success of whether you place first,  third or even go home with home a title at all. You might have the best overall physique on stage, but if you don't pose correctly, accentuating  your best attributes, you will lose points to the person next to you who knows how to showcase his or her  muscularity. You have one shot to get it right - your performance on stage is only a few precious minutes and you must make every second count ! It's all about attitude and confidence.

 

My back was my best feature, but I never showed it well. Have you ever watched a nature show where the male bird species, when attempting to impress the female during courtship, will puff himself up and exaggerate his chest or feathers ? Whenever I watch a nature programme and see  critter strutting their attitude, it always reminds me of posing. This, is what a body builder should do, puff him/herself up giving the illusion through posing, that he or she, appears bigger than they really are. Not just bigger, but defined and hard. It's hard work, this posing - it can leave one feeling knackered out . Try it sometime. Hold a pose as hard as you possibly can, for ten seconds and then go on to several more poses in succession for two or three minutes.  You WILL need a beer after doing this ! 

 

Competing drained me of my physical and mental resources. Here I am looking like I haven't slept for a month. No make-up, big dark circles and a lovely cold sore on my lip from actual lack of sleep. It was a learning curve for me - I over trained and now I was feeling the effects. A BB's diet in my opinion, is not a healthy one. Any where from six to eight weeks out, depending on body fat percentage, the competitor starts eliminating many things from his/her diet. The higher the body fat, the stricter and more extreme the dieting.  In the off season, many BBs' try to maintain a low body fat percentage. This way, they can easily snap  back into competition form in the shortest time possible. This method is kinder on the body. Lack of discipline leads to eating like a glutton in the off season and then have to pound yourself into shape through overtraining and harsh diet methods. This yo-yo effect is really dangerous on the body's organs. A healthy, balanced approach is the best. When I ran into diet problems, I would do food combining and the weight dropped off easier. I felt better also.

The science of bodybuilding is total body manipulation. It's deceiving the body into giving up it's layer of body fat and at the same time convincing it to hold on to and  build muscle. This is not natural to the body. When starved for fat, the body naturally wants to burn muscle for fuel. Supplying the body with small meals of protein throughout the day, constantly fuels and protects the body's stores of lean muscle mass. 

 

As I continued with my training, I was getting denser and more defined. I look so much improved from my first competition. I placed 1st here in the Middle Weight Class, but lost the Overall Title to some out-of-towner who wanted one more win, to qualify for the Pro Circuit.  Smart girl - she chose an insignificant contest in the middle of Montana, where she would not get any big girls to go up against. She was a huge black girl, who entered above me in the heavy weight slot, pumped up on steroids, big blocky jaw and looked like a bloke. I swear she had a package - if you get my drift.   I'm second from the left, in the magenta suit. The stunning girl with the dark hair, to my right - this was Connie. She was an aerobic teacher and had great stage presence. The girl in the middle, in the black suit, looked as if she never lifted a weight in her life. I think she decided to just walk in off the street and compete. She had a cutesy cowgirl routine (gag me out) but absolutely no muscle tone. The two girls on the end - great potential ! The one in the blue suit had the best legs, awesome hamstrings - I coveted those hamstrings. Both girls were very barrel-chested though and really full of themselves. There's a difference on stage, between confidence and conceit. The audience is intelligent and will pick up on this. 

 

I admired Connie for her grace on stage - she had a great smile that girl, and a pleasant personality. I think Connie and I presented better here than anyone else on stage. All the rest was sloppy posing. I was really trying hard with the posing this time as I was in my hometown and would be in front of all my friends. I was pleased with my stage routine as well. Still, those problem legs of mine needed more work. I used to ride my stationary bike twice a day to shape and define them. 

 

During a contest in California, I was approached by Paula Crane, photographer for Muscle Mag.  Paula invited me to Gold's Gym for a magazine photo shoot session. I was just a little excited. When I rang to tell my friends, my voice was squeaky - like I was trying to hold back a scream the entire time I was talking. I sounded really strange I think. So here I was at last, Gold's Gym in Venice Beach - home to the Royalty of body building. In this photo,  I am trying to look my most glamorous, with sunglasses, tight jeans and arching the chest out.  I was hoping to find a hot sports car to pose against but all I could find was this Nissan. What can I say - it kept me humble.

Here I am with Paula Crane. WOW - were those really my arms ??!

 

In the photo below, you can see how much my legs improved - the quads had more shape were more defined. I had a great time at Gold's - but never really relaxed during the shoot. Paula wanted me to wear a thong and while we were shooting, there were several people standing behind me, ogling my bum. A friend gave me a ride to the shoot and took a few pictures and sent these to me. Yes - he also took one from behind but I'm not posting it on the blog. 

 

As I was leaving Gold's - I walked smack into veteran body builder, Robbie Robinson. When I say walked into, I mean that in the most literal sense. I was not looking where I was going, gawking at the photos of legends, lining the walls of Gold's Gym, when BAM ! It was like walking into a brick wall. Robbie had just won the Master's Title - dressed in black leather jacket, black work out trousers, black shoes, black gym bag and a black beret perched on his head - he made a formidable personality. I looked up and saw this huge black guy staring down at me - I was gobsmacked !  I believe I apologized three times over. He smiled wide and said "that's okay" I think my jaw was on the floor. 

 

During my BB days, I met quite a few notable personalities. Lou Ferrigno for one and also Laura Creavelle. I trained at the same gym where JJ Marsh trained and was even a guest at his house for a few social occasions. Although I had a few trophies presented to me by famous personalities - I'm afraid I don't remember their names. How daft is that ?!  I trained and prepared for seven contests but because of my finances, only competed in three. Never the less, I dedicated myself for over twelve years to the strictest of training rituals with heart and soul.  After my contest in California, I had interest from a West Coast agent, he wanted to promote me for magazine ad and other promotional work. I decided that it was not what I wanted to do in life.  I liked keeping fit but found the bodybuilding lifestyle, especially the higher level of it, a bit pompous and artificial. I recall the California contest, I was handed my trophy by a very famous blond, body builder - a real pretty boy. I later looked at his photos in several different BB magazines and it impressed me that in every picture, he had the same plastic smile and an expression that reminded me of a deer when it's caught in the headlights of a car. Soon after the California contest, I backed off of the serious training. 

I think I looked my best in the photo below but what is up with the hands ? Bad posing habits die hard. I'm in my fifties now - trying to get comfortable with this evil aging process and the fact that gravity is now my worst enemy. I'll admit I've become very lazy and have sloughed off from exercise since moving to England. But one look at my bum in the mirror and the fact it resembles the backside of a sumo wrestler, is enough to scare me back to the workouts. Long gone are the days where my body fat registered 6%. 

 

I had to post a photo of my all time favourite BBs - Bill Pearl.  He first started competing in the 1950's. Not only is he an intelligent, articulate man - he's a true gentleman. He must be in his 70's now and still as dedicated as he ever was. I really respect and admire his philosophy on body building and am doubly impressed that he's eliminated virtually all meat from his diet. Even on a veggie diet, he has been able to maintain a solid amount of muscle mass to his frame. I'm also eating a more vegetarian diet these last three years - I was a vegetarian for many years before my body building adventures. I was told back in my competition days, that I needed to eat meat to build muscle. Not true ! No more battery raised chickens with hormone fillers for me.  I'm including a link to a wonderful interview with Bill Pearl - I hope you are as inspired by him as I am. Bill Pearl is one body building legend I always hoped to meet but never did. 

http://www.criticalbench.com/Bill-Pearl-Seminar.htm

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Bright Star

"Bright Star" is the story of 19th century poet John Keats, and his passionate love for Fanny Brawne. Although poverty kept Keats from marrying Fanny, their love endured for three years despite many tribulations. Sadly, John's literary fame came too late and he never did marry Fanny. For like his Mother and Brother before him, he succumbed to tuberculosis at the early age of 25. At the bottom of this post, I've included a beautiful love letter  that John penned to Fanny.  Jane Campion (The Piano) was responsible for direction and screen play and although it didn't win, "Bright Star"  was nominated for a "Golden Palm Award" at Cannes. It looks divine. 

My dearest Girl,

This moment I have set myself to copy some verses out fair.  I cannot proceed with any degree of content.  I must write you a line or two and see if that will assist in dismissing you from my Mind for ever so short a time.  Upon my Soul I can think of nothing else - The time is passed when I had power to advise and warn you again[s]t the unpromising morning of my Life - My love has made me selfish.  I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further.  You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving - I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you.  I should be afraid to separate myself far from you.  My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change?  My love, will it?  I have no limit now to my love - You note came in just here - I cannot be happier away from you - 'T is richer than an Argosy of Pearles.  Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shudder'd at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr'd for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that - I could die for you.  My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish'd me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often "to reason against the reasons of my Love."  I can do that no more - the pain would be too great - My Love is selfish - I cannot breathe without you.

Yours for ever

John Keats

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Two Days in Paris

I was in Paris last week.  The weather was hot, full sun and the streets crowded with tourists - lots of loud Americans especially.  The first thing I saw as I exited the tube station near Notre Dame, was this renovation screen.  I thought it was a clever, swaddling guise whilst the building was being reborn.  Much nicer than the usual steel skeleton of construction racks and planks.

 

I love this simple, functional bridge.  One thing I've noticed about my photo eye is: I love repetitive lines. Rows of windows, rebar, chairs, cows - if it goes on and on, I just have to shoot it, sometimes 50 times over. Am I a bit OCD ? Yes, I think I am. Excuse me - I need to go wash my hands now.

 

Here's more examples of my addiction of taking images that run in succession - I can't stop ! Look at the beautiful architecture of the Louvre - windows,windows and more windows windows,windows,windows.

 

Two rows of lovely trees, sporting their fall colours. 

 

Okay, enough of that !  I like him very much - did they really have men that looked like this back in the day I wonder ? Without fail, the models always had these nice abdominal bellies and muscular arms.

 

Let's move on now to Les Jardin des Tuileries. This lovely garden runs along the Seine from the Louvre all the way to the Place de la Concorde.  These ornamental grounds were originally designed in 1664 by Le Notre, the famous French park designer. I've read recently, that a complete renovation is being planned for this popular site. 

 

 

 

 

This is a lovely place to just sit and people watch, drink in the sunshine and take a nap even. I brought my lunch with me - cheese, bread and an orange.  I sat in one of these green chairs, put my feet up and read my book for over an hour.  And then - I sat some more and simply watched the world go by. 

 

There were a steady stream of athletic runners up and down this tree lined lane. This is the first time in Paris that I've stayed away from the museums - no agenda, no planned itinerary. I just wanted to be.

 

On my second day in Paris, I visited the Basilica du Sacre-Coeur (Basilica of the Sacred Heart) in the Montmartre district.  The Basilica is built on one of the highest points of the city.  For centuries, this sacred place of worship has drawn the Druids, the Gauls and various Saints, all making the pilgrimage to cleanse their souls. The list of Saints reads like who's who: Saint Germain, Saint Clotilde, Saint Vincent de Paul, Saint Bernard and Joan of Arc even. 

 

A ghostly mime on the Cathedral steps, taking a well-earned break.

I found the Basilica to be an impressive building. The stones of this monument stay white because of the calcite content. When it rains, the calcite (re)acts as a natural cleaner. The steps were heaving with tourists, peddlers selling cheap collectables and mimes earning a day's wage. To be honest, the steps leading up to the mount smelled - well - like urine and there was rubbish everywhere.  At least I had the view over Paris, and what a view it was !

 

I wandered a bit farther up the hill to the Artist's Market and watched the talent at work.

 

I love this charming restaurant. I'm certain that all of the wood facade, is original to the building.

 

 

I love Paris - especially in sepia !

 

"If you are lucky to have lived in Paris as a young man, then where ever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you. For Paris is a movable feast."

- Ernest Hemingway -

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Make The Girl Dance

In June of this year, the electro-techno rock duo consisting of  Greg Kozo & Pierre Mathieu launched this catchy little song called "Baby, Baby, Baby."  Yes, yes, I know - the lyrics are rubbish and mildly offensive but I found the beat wonderful and  video is really fun and cheeky !  I loved it !!   It was filmed in the trendy Châtelet-Les-Halles District - 2nd Arrondisement of Paris, an area I've explored several times while visiting the city.  The song features the French singing artist "Musubi."  I noticed two things on this video, firstly - all of the store and shop signs are flipped, as if you're seeing them in a mirror. Secondly, I noticed the girls in this video always reach to the back and front - down below - like they are adjusting something. I wondered if the video was shot illegally  or perhaps, the women had to wear something on the naughty parts in order to legally strut through the streets naked. Oh who cares - it is what it is - an electro rock video meant to shock and amuse. Just so you know, the naked bits are covered by black censor boxes. 

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Fun With Photography

I discovered some vintage photos on the web today and just had to post and share with you. Hope you find them as interesting as I do. I get lost in looking at images from the past - the clothing and automobiles especially. These were all taken around 1900 to 1960.  These women are very posh - love the leopard print coat.  Although times were dire during the Second World War, men and women had a sense of fashion. Women sewed new out of old, embellished, invented  and created and nothing was wasted. Remember how the movies of that era had such glam. So next time you see me on the streets of St. Ives in my old jeans that are missing buttons and that crappy old tee shirt, no make-up and one of my dorky hats - do the shame thing with your fingers and say in a really serious voice just like what my Mum always said to me to make me feel guilty: "Ah-ver"  Some Russian, Mother guilt thing.  It always works on me. Sad.

I have to make up stories when I look at a photo. You can let your imagination go wild. For instance, I can tell that these people love chickens. People from this era typically had more children than chickens, but not these people. More chickens than children. Smart people - children cannot lay eggs !

Do you see the little boy on the bottom, right ? I feel so sorry for him. Imagine spending the day with this lot.  Love the hats - which reminds me, I have a red cloche that I am so excited to wear this winter. This photo really cracked me up. The women look like caricatures. The man at the far left, looks as if he does not even belong in the photo. He should be cropped out I think.

This photo is French. What a darling little boy - I just want to smooch his fat cheeks !

If this little girl were to run away - I'll bet the woman could never catch her.

The man resembles Hitler a little - yes ? That was creepy.

I love this Victorian house and the people on the porch, from "Deliverance"  - are a nice touch. 

Let me make up a story for this one. Their car just broke down in the middle of no where, somewhere in North Dakota. They have no food, water or beer even. He is trying to persuade her to push the car but she has to pee and is being difficult. Anyone else want to try to make up a story - please do so.

 

Poor girl - only one leg.

 

Either it's a parade or someone lost their chow mien all over this car.

Does anyone else think what I'm thinking - that this is a man in drag ?

This is exactly like me and my girlfriends, when we go out to the Ollie for pub quiz night together. 

Very good image of vintage San Francisco.

The one on the left looks like "Grannie" from the Beverly Hillbillies and if you were to slap a mustache on the woman on the right, she would look exactly like Teddy Roosevelt.  I simply call it as I see it. 

Okay - someone just told these two ladies a joke and they are beside themselves with laughter. I'm a bit embarrassed by their lack of decorum. I don't know about you, but I would love to party with these two. They need a Saturday night out, because being a matron at the asylum is a very stressful job.

I sincerely love this image. Oh how I miss the Sixties ! Look at her beautiful smile. She's young, full of hope and no doubt,  going to marry the High School football champion. Her husband will work for his Father in the family run appliance business and during her lifetime, she will have a dozen ankle biters, wear gingham and rick rack aprons , make tons of jello in those aluminum molds, bake sugar cookies, fish sticks, smore's and ply the kids with red kool-aid. And all through this - her hair  and make-up will always look perfect and she'll do the house work in heels and red lipstick. She won't know any better because   Oprah was not yet invented in the Sixties.

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Rupa & The April Fishes

Rupa: "practicing doctor by day and a professional musician by night, she's regularly exposed to life's fragility, resilience and randomness"  

I'm crazy about this band - have a listen and check out their video !

http://www.cumbancha.com/albums/extraordinaryrendition/

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Jackson

This is Jackson and he loves to have his photo taken. His routine is to jump up and down and run in little circles at the sight of my camera. His favourite places to pose, are the sofa arm, chairs or the bed even. He will jump up on anything to get my attention - almost like he's saying "pick me, pick me!"

Jackson is a wire hair fox terrier and interestingly enough, his lineage goes all the way back to England where his Grandfather was champion winner at Crufts. I was Jackson's mistress when I lived in Arizona, many years ago. When I relocated - I found it impossible to find a landlord that accepted canines and so trusted his care to someone I knew. When I was finally in a position to take him - they refused to give him back.  

I was heartbroken and it took me a really long time to get over losing him. Even now, when I look at these photos, I can feel the tears start to well up.  I think when a person bonds with an animal - it's forever.

Maybe this is why I like cows so much - no expectations there. I know, that I will never bring a cow home to sleep at the foot of my bed, nor would I care to give him a rub on the tummy and kiss his nose. And how would that be - for a cow to jump up and down and run in circles and pose on the arm of my sofa when I get out the camera ?!   So I'm safe there - with my naughty cows - snapping photos in the fields, where they can poop and chew and queue for the scratching post.  A cow in the house isn't quite the same as having a dog. I can't tell where the carpet ends and Jackson begins in the photo below.  I think we should all take lessons from a dog - on how to relax. They're experts.

 

A few months into his life, Jackson's left ear started to stick straight up.  The cartilage never quite broke like it was suppose to.  It always gave him this expression of "surprise"  or maybe like he was listening to everything you were saying.  He was a lovely little guy - so affectionate and loving.

It's a yawn - not a snarl.

My youngest daughter thought Jackson needed little jacket to wear in the winter months.  OMG - did we ever laugh !  Might as well have dressed him up in a jacket and ascot and stuck a pipe in his mouth.

Like the brother they never had.

Jackson sired one litter of pups in his lifetime. Here is one of his offspring. Handsome like his Daddy !

I use to dream about Jackson all the time, but not so much anymore. 

There will never be another one like you Jackson !

Thanks for reading Prairie !

Oldelaf and Monsieur D

I must warn you - this is a tune that will stick in your mind like one of those unforgettable jingles.  Before you know it, you're humming it out loud over and over again and tapping your shoe on the floor.  I've heard that Oldelaf and Monsieur D  are performing a "farewell tour" - the last concert date being January 30th, 2010 in Paris. Their stage performance is quite lively - for example: animal costumes, super hero songs with googles and capes and instruments including guitars, ukulele and a dust bin-tub.  So the question is: how much coffee is too much ?  Watch the video. Be sure to check out their website - fun !

Gargoyles of Ely Cathedral

Although I've made several visits to  Ely Cathedral  this year, I would always take this shot - framing the entire church in the camera lens.  Thinking I had taken a nice photo, I then walked to the right of the building and followed the path into the High Street.  I had quite a small shock this time, when I wandered to the left path and discovered all of the gargoyles and chimeras, perched high on the ledges and windows. The very long, detailed history of this medieval building can be found on the link above.  Hundred of years ago, this area of England (flatland) was under water - Ely Cathedral was on a virtual island which could only be accessed by boat.  If I'm wrong about this (don't think I am though) - please correct me.  The land was drained and the city sprang up around this ancient structure.

These are not gargoyles - they are two lovely English ladies in their Sunday hats, enjoying the beautiful summer day.  They'd just ordered tea and scones and were waiting to be served. So English - this scene !

This cafe used to function as a rectory and the interior architecture is quite lovely.  I don't have a photo of it but will take one next time I have one of their delicious sandwiches.  We're having a bad year for wasps in this area of England and they were quite the little pests this day, wanting to sample everything on my plate.

 

The word "gargoyle" is derived from Old French: gargouille "throat" and also a latin word , meaning "to gargle."  The gargoyle's purpose, in addition to ornamentation, was to chiefly serve as a rain spout. Thus associating the name to the passing of water through the throat and mouth of the gargoyle/gargle.  

Not all of these ornaments are gargoyles - only the ones that are water spouts.  Otherwise, they're called "chimeras" - a mythical Greek monster made up of all different sorts of creatures.  The chimeras and gargoyles have roots as far back as Greece, Egypt, India and finally in France, where the demonic looking things then spread to the rest of Europe. 

Notice the sculpture on the left - how the elements and centuries have eroded it's surface.

Some of the sculptures are modern - replaced by contemporary artists. I guessed this to be one of them. Wonder what the significance would be - picking his nose ? 

 

The image below - these two also look contemporary to me.

This chimera below - reminds me of an illustration from the children's book: "Where the wild things are"

The headless water spout !

Do you see the little flecks on the image above ? A family of wasps have built a nest in the mouth of this sculpture. I found this one and the image below to be the most disturbing of all of them.  The demonic looking creatures are holding on to humans - is this to protect them ?  All of the research I did on gargoyles and chimeras were the opposite of what I believed.  I always thought they were put up to intimidate the uneducated populace - an image insinuating a torturous demise if they do not come to worship. Instead, they are meant to be signs of luck and protection. To the peasants, it planted the belief that buildings with gargoyles and chimeras were a safe haven, one where the sculptures warded off evil spirits. Very bizarre !

This posting was a bit disturbing and heavy - even for me ! Imagine that,  coming from someone who loves cemeteries and even has a book called from  "From Death To Dust" in her bookcase.  Whew ! Let's lighten this up and look at some lovely flowers from cathedral's gardens. 

The field next to the church had several small horses and this gigantic old tree.  The branches were so wide and long that they had wired the heavy limbs to keep them from breaking off.  It must have been several hundred years old.  The horses loved it's shade !

Thanks for reading Prairie !

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It's Complicated

I love the cinema !  I love great Academy Award productions as well as the rotten apples - like Mall Cop.  I can laugh at the lamest humor. I'm sick that way.  Most American productions never make it across the pond to UK theaters and so, I always make a list of what I want to watch and then get it when it's released on dvd.  I'm a list maker - I'm sick that way. 

"It's Complicated" -  is an uncomplicated, light-hearted comedy which premiers  in America in December. It stars three extremely good actors - Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin. Cute Trailer. 

Cimiteres de Nice

Whenever I'm in Nice, I love to spend a morning climbing the 92 metre high hilltop that leads to the lovely landscaped park of the Colline du Chateau. It's not the Chateau that brings tourists up the mountain, rather it's the spectacular, panoramic views of the ochre roof-tops of Nice, the endless sweep of the Promenade des Anglais and sparkling, azure waters of the Mediterranean. A remnant stone wall is all that's left of the antique Chateau now.  

Nearby on on one of the many paths are a dramatic, man-made waterfall and two of the most beautiful cemeteries I've ever seen. The Cimitière du Chateau, a Jewish cemetery, is regarded as one of the most beautiful resting grounds in the world.

Next to the Jewish Cemetery is another memorial park - burial home to other faiths as well.  I love the extraordinary, vibrant colours of this bell tower.   Since Nice is so close to Italy - I think there is Italian influence in the artisan's work.

When I walked through the gates of the next cemetery, I was awed by these beautiful angels rising up into the ether.

 

The Tombeau de Famille Francois Grasso - Monsieur  Grasso was a prominent civic leader in Nice and has a boulevard named in honour of him. The tomb shows the likeness of his two small children who died at a very young age.  I found this tomb to be most touching - the angel touching a finger to his lips, as if to say quiet.  Circa 1894

The artist painters, Raoul Duffy and Henri Matisse ended their days in Nice and are buried here. Another notable, sleeping resident is Roger Martin du Gard - winner of the 1937 Nobel Prize for Literature. I'm sure there are many other famous persons who lay sleeping in this memorial grounds - I welcome any comments from readers, if you might know of any other prominent souls. 

Whilst doing some research about these burial grounds, I came me across three wonderful blogs which are authored by Jilly Bennet. She's an incredible woman !

Riviera Dogs, Menton Daily Photo , Monte Carlo Daily Photo 

Thank you for reading Prairie !

Taproom Canvas Project

I have some exciting news to share with all of you. A while back,  I was commissioned to do a canvas for the local wine bar here in St. Ives. The Taproom on Bridge Street,  now features one of my images of Monte Carlo on their wall. If you happen to be in the area, please stop by, have a glass of wine and stare at it a bit !!

Hopefully - there will be a few more commissions for this local hotspot.

http://www.thetaproom.co.uk/home.html

Thanks for reading Prairie !

Bits and Pieces

I did it !  I've passed my "Life in the UK Test."  Can't tell you what a relief it is to have it out of the way and to be able to stop this incessant studying. I hated memorisation of statistics the most.  It drove me me to a coffee and muffin addiction. I'm sure my little face will be be sorely missed at Costa, now that I'm graduated and have my "pass" document.  

I had three statistical questions on the test.  One was this: In 1971, what was the population growth of England ? I knew the answer -  it's 7.7%  But how does knowing this,  teach me anything about England or acclimate me into my new life here ?  Will the fact that 65% of all children in the UK, live with both parents, ever factor into a daily conversation ?  I would have rather learned more about location of regions, cities, climate and geography of smaller islands that lie on the outer perimeters of UK.  And although it touched on government - I wanted more details on how parliament actually functions.  The fact that England has an "unwritten constitution"  is a very bizarre concept to me - why even mention it if it doesn't exist ?  By the time it was over, I looked a bit like I did in this photo below. Like I really did need to be medicated. 

The test was administered by two men, one very tall - like 6 foot 2 inches, whilst the other chap was 5 foot 4 inches, eyeball level to me. Both were wearing checked, short sleeve shirts, tucked in and belted up to their nipple line - just like Pee Wee Herman. And both wore glasses, like the type engineers wore in the 1950's.  I think they were engineers. Identical haircuts - flattop, jarhead style.  I could tell they loved their job. While explaining how to take the test on the computer, they would attempt to make jokey comments - which were not funny. After the test, the shorter man called me into the room to inform me,  I had passed. I was so surprised I blurted out "I could kiss you!" He took a step back, a look of horror on his face.  Next on my list: the UK driving exam. I see it's back to Costa for me.  

Now on to other things...

Fashionistas Rejoice ! This month sees the release of "Coco Avant Chanel" a film about the life of Coco Chanel.  It documents the rags to impeccably clad life of this fashion icon. The film stars  Audrey Tatou as Coco. Ms. Tatou happens to be  the new face promoting the Chanel line -  replacing Nicole Kidman. I love her look - mens' trousers, tie and waistcoat. The cinematography looks stunning. Can't wait!

Thanks for reading Prairie !

Eisbaer

What happened there ? In addition to a movie video, I used to post a music video at least once a week - just for fun.  I love, love, love this video ! She's just a girl, a gorgeous French girl, with a lovely voice, singing a song in German, about what else ? Her Polar Bear.   The imagery is very pretty , very Mediterranean. There's a dash of either Michelle Pfieffer or Deborah Harry in her appearance don't you think ? It's a bit 1960's - I like that. I hope you enjoy this ! 

Riverside Gala

Many years ago when I lived in America, I used to watch news stories filmed in some rural  UK village or town and it was usually coverage of some quirky event where the news commentator would say in a patronizing voice "Ah those crazy Brits, they're at it again!"  The camera crew would then show film bits, of Brits log rolling on the river or scuba diving down a murky stream or happy people with painted faces, dressed up in strange costumes whooping it up with exuberance. The weather always looked so freezing cold, but there they were, these tough and enduring British blokes, shirtless and in shorts, having the time of their lives. Being American, I thought it all very amusing. Ironically,  I was at one such event on Saturday, a very British occasion called "The Riverside Gala"  Although American news commentators do an excellent job of portraying the British to look barking mad  - which they are - let me tell you this: British people have the greatest community spirit I've ever experienced.  The longer I live in this lovely country, the stronger my affections grow.  Brits have a unique camaraderie, one such that I've never witnessed in the States. I've been called barking mad by many British persons and let me just say; "to be barking mad, can be a good thing"

The day  of the event was a "PIG" - bold, gusty winds and spitting down rain which would suddenly turned into proper downpours, sending people running for shelter. "A typical English summer" as the Brits would say. Did that stop them from showing up?  NEVER !  The Gala took place in Noble's Field which is down Thicket Path and such a lovely path it is.

Noble's Field had these three trademark trees that I love to gaze upon.

Although the main event of the Gala is the Dragon Boat Racing, the focus was on providing a  fun day of family entertainment including:  27 foot high climbing wall, magic shows, circus workshop and balloon modeling, pirated- themed river taxi, food stalls, hog roast, beer tent (hiccup) and craft stalls.

Look at these brave, little busters !

Did I mention Super Heroes (?) - they were everywhere !!

Great Riverside Gala, Batman !! Pow! Zap! 

Even Supergirl and Superman flew in for the day.

Ummmmm - I do not know who this caped avenger might be. He's a bit tangled in his own cape at the moment.  One of the Three Musketeers also made an appearance or  was she simply a dominatrix ?

It was a gaggle of feisty Super Heroes !

The competitors getting one last bit of pep talk and strategic planning.

 

And here come some of the Dragon Boats !

Just look at the determination in their faces - incredible !

And the winners were these lovely young ladies ! Way to go girls !

The team was chuffed ! I have a blue dress just like that. Good thing I didn't wear it.

Throughout the day, the rain would pour down, which sent people, young and old, running for cover.

Above the big tent, the sky would rumble and blow the clouds about - it's just beginning to clear now.When it did this, I felt like dancing and skipping like this little angel !

Or maybe it was the sight of the ice cream truck that made me want to skip and dance.

The English countryside was getting it's thirst quenched - maintaining it's glorious green veneer.

The day was freezing cold, nevertheless,  I had a great time, met some interesting people and am constantly learning so much about this little community I live in. One thing I have learned, is that British people are tough and should be admired for their unwavering spirit. This day was dang cold and damp - I about froze ! 

Oh good golly !  they were just so funny, I had to put them on here one more time.

Until next time - thank you for reading Prairie ! 

http://www.stives-town.info/

If The Photograph Is Good

This is Barbara.  I love the song she's singing - but she scares me.  Not only is she scary, she's bouncy. She sort of reminds me of one of my villianous teachers from Junior High or one of those shush-ing librarian types. If you watch this video a few times over, you may start to feel like you should go sit in the corner. Naughty, naughty, naughty !  I adore French music.  It makes me feel happy. And bouncy.

I've not been posting much lately because I've been studying like a maniac for my "Life in the UK Test" I've put in anywhere from two to six hours a day.  It's a mandatory requirement if one is working towards UK Citizenship. There are 17 chapters in my study guide, each chapter has 24 questions - so memorization of 408 questions.  The test will consist of 24 questions and in order to pass, one needs to get 75% correct.  I now have a head crammed full of mundane statistics - most of which I will never use in my lifetime. I'm posting a link to a website where you might try your mighty wit and wisdom of Life in The UK.  I wonder how many of you British persons will actually know the answers. Let me know how you do.  

http://www.hiren.info/life-in-the-uk-test/17

Now go sit in your corner and watch Barbara and be very afraid whilst you bounce along with her.  Enjoy !

Celebrating Mia

I attended a very special party this weekend - complete with champagne, jazz singer, canapes, lots of friends and laughter ! It was in celebration of one of my good friend's birthday - Mia's birthday.  

This is Mia - she's ever so posh !  She wears a lot of Vivienne Westwood designs.

She's also one of the nicest women I've ever been blessed to meet.

She has a cute habit, of expressing herself with her hands. 

Mia loves jewelry and has really good taste.  Hopefully some of it (good taste) will rub off on me soon.

This jazz band, was quite good and I discovered when visiting with the songstress, that she was American. She convinced me that I needed to purchase on of the band's CD's for £10.  And because I loved their opening song - "all that jazz" - so much, I said YES !!  I listened to the CD today.  I think it sounds much better after about six glasses of champagne.  What was I thinking ?!

Mia's sister - Julia Francis - and friend Sally.  Two more posh birds.

Sally has a great face - so expressive.

A lovely, warm, sunshine filled day, shared with good friends.

Corinne and Mia - looks like trouble to me.

Neil and Sally.

Vivienne came all the way from Bordeaux, France - just to point a finger at me !

Actually, I think she likes to point at people and things - she's so cute !

Yummy !  Cake.

Okay - I got a bit distracted.

I happened to see this little buster - he busy working out how to use a racket and a ball. 

And distracted again by the Pub's Mascot Puppy Dog - another cute little buster. 

Mia hugging daughters - Amy and Emma.

No more champagne for you - young lady !!

I think Mia had a great time - what do you think ?

Blurry is as blurry does - you think as the daughter of a Publican, I could handle more than two glasses of champagne.  Anyway, Mia was a delight to follow with the camera. If only I was seeing straight.

The setting was so pretty.

Happy Birthday Mia !!  Thank you for being such a great friend.  

And she's off ......

 

Tapped

A few days ago, I received an email from my friend Peggy, who lives in Montana. 

She recommended  a link to a TV documentary on bottled water. I felt pangs of guilt while watching it. I drink the stuff and although I recycle the plastic containers, I've always wondered if those petroleum based bottles genuinely do get re-incarnated.  The Telegraph, printed an article about plastic - exposing  facts that these containers are worth practically nothing and that England struggles to find a company that will buy them. In the end, they get shipped off the Isle (which costs a fortune) and then some other poor country gets to admire them in "their" landfill. WE pay THEM to haul IT away. How crazy is that ?!

This is a disturbing video, a real eye opener. After watching it, I'm seriously wanting to get a water filter on the kitchen tap. If that's not enough, more on plastic: The U.S. Mayo Clinic advises strongly drinking from plastic water bottles, especially those that are left in the heat. And also, cooking in plastic containers or with plastic wrap as it's  extremely toxic. The heat leaches all sorts of toxins and hormone type substances from the plastic and this is absorbed directly into body tissue.  This is more so a problem for women as it's been positively linked to breast cancer. Remember when the medical experts said that coffee was bad for you ? Now they say a little caffeine is good.  Sometimes these people make my head spin.  But I do believe this Tapped Trailer is worthy of a watch.  

Here's a link to their official website, which has a plethora of information.

http://www.tappedthemovie.com/

Food Inc.

I saw this trailer on my Apple Mac recently and really hope that it will make it to the cinemas here in England.  I love food, good food - and I have the womanly curves to prove it.  For a long time during my fitness and body building craze, "fast food" was like a dirty word to me.  But if I were to make those foods at home, from scratch, I think I would enjoy eating a few french fries and a burger. Maybe a baked potato instead as I was never too keen on french fries. Fries (just my opinion) have the consistency of chewing a candle - waxy and greasy. Oh - and let's not forget a nice German beer to have along with that burger and fries !!  You know me and my beer obsession.

I was very blessed during my childhood to have a Mum who had time to make everything from scratch.  My family owned and operated restaurant(s) for close to thirty years, offering fresh, homemade soups, breads, stews, beef roasts, coleslaw and salads, potato  and a variety of ethnic foods - Norwegian, German, Polish and Russian recipes that were handed down for generations. These were the people that migrated and settled on the plains of North Dakota.  And because I grew up around food-gurus and pastry artisans - I make an awesome apple pie ! Now-a-days, many children are not as fortunate to have their Mum stay home and nurture them with wholesome, homemade meals. The old fashioned Mum role has had to take a back seat to financial demands for the survival of the family. So pizza, has become the staple meal on many tables. 

I hope you find this trailer interesting - it really made me  pause and think a bit more more about what it is, that we actually shove into our gobs everyday.  Food is a blessing. 

Birthday In The Meadow

Sunday last, I spent the afternoon taking photos of a celebration.  It was Raff's 21st birthday. Raff's Mum, my good mate - Corinne - organised this lovely get together in picturesque, Grantchester Meadows.  I could say that this meadow and the surrounding area is steeped in history, but what inch of England isn't ?! 

I lunched and drank champagne and very possibly walked on the very same bit of earth that was trod on by Virginia Woolf, Rupert Brooke, Sylvia Plath, Lytton Strachey and E M Forester and so many other notables. I love the Bloomsbury group and have devoured many a book about their lives, loves and indiscretions. They were, quite the people in their day.

This is the path that leads down to the meadow.  

Right next to where we planned to set up the buffet table, I noticed this beautiful old tree full of character and sprouting this splendid growth of bright, yellow fungi - high up on the trunk. It looked grand indeed with all the bikes parked against it.

Sadly, it was a victim of someone's heinous act - they had sliced one of the fungi growth clean off the trunk.

I think if this tree could talk - it would say "I'm never lonely!"

I should tell you, that two summers ago I was served a glass of Pimm's over ice. Sickly sweet - I hated it ! But this Sunday, I was in for a totally new way of drinking Pimm's.  I thought it was just a sissy's drink.  I was about to learn the power of Pimm's. I had just three little servings and it about laid me out under that fungi tree.

The secret ingredients: orange, strawberry, blueberry, lemon, cucumber and the secret weapon - mint leaf.

Mix with fizzy lemonade and viola' - I wonder if the Bloomsbury crowd imbibed on this cocktail ? Could this be the reason why they were always skinny dipping in the River Cam ?

I spied these little two little madams in their Sunday go-a-walking frocks. I was a bit cross-eyed by now.

Because I had some liquid courage by now, I sauntered on over the meadow to investigate what this man was painting.  He agreed to letting me take his photo - under conditions that I not show his face. Don't worry Michael, your identity is safe with me.

I love the ancient trees that grow in England. When I first lived on this island, I dreamt of the legendary Tree Man. A mystical, magical dream of a man whose arms morph into branches and whose feet petrify into a tree trunk. He looked like a wild man, with long, thick, black, uncombed hair and fierce eyes. He was surrounded by mist and creatures of the forest. When he spoke it was thunderous and made my heart beat like crazy. It was a powerful dream and now, whenever I look at a tree, I think of him. I wonder if I were to put my ear to the trunk - would he speak to me ? 

The guests were arriving now - young, beautiful and spirited - twenty strong.

He's like a young Fabio !  Yummy !!  They never made them like this when I was in school.

I ate almost an entire serving of this desert and then found out there was cream in it. I'm allergic to dairy.

I was having a great time and then THEY showed up !  A clump of cloned cows.

He's licking his lips - I think he wanted some birthday cake.  

And what a cake it was ! Just so you know - I did not model for the frosting decorations.

The Birthday Girl.

 

I'm closing with a stanza by Rupert Brooke, because he said it so beautifully -

"Ah God ! To see the branches stir

Across the moon at Grantchester !

To smell the thrilling-sweet and rotten

Unforgettable, unforgotten

River-smell, and hear the breeze

Sobbing in the little trees.

Say, do the elm-clumps greatly stand

Still guardians of that holy land ?"

Thanks for reading Prairie !

Numbers

Life is frantic - a whirlwind of priorities, responsibilities and expectations, coming at us from all sides. Pulled from post to pillar, we forget birthdays, anniversaries, lose contact with best friends and favourite blood kin. We watch our children grow ( too fast ) - That advice my Mum gave me, about putting a brick on the head of my daughters to keep them from growing - does not work.

And adding to this frenzied pace of life - we have all these numbers we're expected  to remember. Reduced to a number - do you ever feel that way ?  I have a home phone number, a mobile number, a library number, a British NHS number, an American  Social Security Number, a passport number, a multitude of pin numbers I must recall for computer web-site's such as, my Ebay account and a vast selection of websites I shop from.  Let's not forget - two bank account numbers, pin numbers for credit cards, my bra size, ring size, shoe and dress size and darn it anyway -  my age !!  That, is one number I'd like to forget. But life and numbers are intertwined. Life really is reduced to, the science of numbers. I think if I were labeled a number - I would be a "Three." I think it's a quirky little number. How about you - what number would you be and why ?  

I listened to radio programme just this week, where the guest speaker was saying, that in the near future every person on earth will be required to get a chip under their skin - similar to how they chip cats and dogs. No more remembering all those numbers, only the chip number. Creepy. 

So because I understand how much of your time is taken up trying to recall all of these personal numbers, I've reduced the photos, so as to not waste too much of your time today.  Little photos - quick glances - more time to think about those numbers.

 

Regarding the little contest and free card give-away (see my previous post: I Dreamt Of Paris) I've just sent a beautiful, La Pêche photo card, to Nadine Laman, a brilliant author who lives in Phoenix, Arizona.  She gave the correct answer to why a particular painting was my favourite.   I had quite a few answers of: "because her butt makes your butt look smaller."  This answer, technically speaking, was also correct.  But the real reason I liked that painting - was the hat. She's wearing a beautiful straw hat !  In the future, I ask that you please refrain from mentioning my butt in any responses. Ouch ! Thanks to everyone who voted. 

Here's the link to Nadine's website.  She is truly dedicated and passionate about writing. 

http://www.nadinelamanbooks.com/

Well - my number's up. Until next time - thanks for reading Prairie.

The Longest Way

In 2003, whilst still a student at university, Christoph Rehage had the gumption to walk from Paris, to his home in Hanover, Germany.  In November of 2007 - on his 26th birthday - he set off on a another journey. This time, he intended to walk from Beijing, China to Hanover, Germany.  An admirable goal of 4000 kilometers (2485 miles) He never made it to his destination - but did, while away an entire year trekking the panoramic vistas of China - journaling his adventure in a five minute cascade of facial flickers on You Tube. The video has become a smash hit amongst *Tube-ies (*my nickname for Tubelophiles) 

In 2003, this Prairie Person, spent little more than a month in Nepal - endured arduous climbing, showered maybe four times total, ate food that I didn't recognize (was it really yak meat?) and if I wasn't constipated, I was dashing behind any tree or rock I could find - with a serious case of the troubles. My nomadic trip up the Everest Trail, was one of the most challenging things I've ever done, and like Christoph Rehage, it enlightened me - spiritually. I witnessed the vastness of this planet and the diversity of other cultures, I saw indescribable suffering, inspiring horizons and fierce forces of nature. Whilst Christoph grew a straggled beard - by the time I reached home, I had some exceptionally hairy legs. 

Most people are satisfied to stay safely tucked in - in their carefully constructed routines and that's okay - not criticizing anyone here for it.  Walking across a country carrying your world in a rucksack on your back, is not for everyone. But for those of you who have always dreamt of doing it - stop dreaming and go out and do it - eat weird and wonderful things, yodel from a mountaintop, pray with a holy man, squat behind big boulders if you can find them , celebrate life ! Then send me an email and some photos - I'd love to hear about it !  

Here's a link to Christoph's blog:

http://www.thelongestway.com/20080618/谢老师-teacher-xie.html

I Dreamt Of Paris

I had an unnerving dream last night - to be honest, it was a nightmare. I won't tell you what it was about so as to protect the innocent. But I think there should be a law about ex-husbands being allowed to romp through your dream-scape. So let's pretend that I dreamt of Paris instead. I love Paris !  It is, one of the most beautiful cities on the planet Earth.  Although I visit several times a year, I frequently take the wrong train or get off too early and then have to walk.  But if you must walk - I can't think of a more glorious place to mosey.  So what would a Paris dream look like in my strange and wondrous little noggin ?  Well .....

I think I could live in the Louvre - after all, there's plenty of room - I'm just an itty-bitty thing and wouldn't take up much space.  I tour the Louvre, every time I visit Paris - also the Musee D'Orsay, a lovely old train station which houses beautiful classics of art.  I wish I know more about art. 

For instance, I can tell you only one true fact about this painting: The lady is NOT directing traffic.  I think it has something to do with a genocide of infants.  The vogue in art it seems - back in the day - was to dangle the breasts for everyone to see.  I do think we women are beautiful - with our curves and bumps. 

But always, the puppies are roaming free.  Sculptures mesmerize me. I could sit and look at a statue for a very long time.  Now this is the highest quality of genuine art.  Truly representative of the Masters. 

Last time to the Louvre, this exhibition was no longer on display. I think I first saw it back in 2007.  The significance of these men holding clocks, has to be something very deep, cosmic and symbolic - Freudian even. If you were to explain it to me - my pea brain would not get it. I like it simply because it's quirky. (smiley face here)

Now I relate to this lady.  I sleep exactly like this and look just as angelic and beautiful (including the halo) but I prefer sleeping in a bed. I think perhaps - she's been very naughty - because someone has tied her up and left her in this puddle.

The dream continues and I'm in the heart of it now - everyone's a blur.

For a second there, I thought I knew him.

This photo above, is my favourite. Can you guess why ? If you can guess correctly, I will send you one of my photo cards to where ever you live.  In case there are multiple correct answers, I will let my hair stylist, Darren,  draw the winner. Good luck !

The first time I saw Winged Victory, I got all choked up and the tears flowed. It was so damned beautiful. Displayed at the top of a very tall stairwell and set atop a majestic plinth - the sight of her caused me to reel and bend with every emotion in my body.  I need to take one more look. Breathtaking !

I'm flying back and forth between museums now. But it's my dream so I'm allowed to do that. And we're back to the breasts again !!  They are exquisite aren't they ?  I meant the "painting" as a whole. Today, some might regard all this nudity as porn. Where are artists that can paint like this, where have they gone to ? Go away Damien Hirst, with your so called art of dead, dissected and stuffed, formaldehyde soaked sharks,sheeps and cows ! You can go stuff yourself and you can keep your  rubbish art.  What goes around comes around - remember the Blood Heads ? They called that art too.  It's all subjective.

Okay - she does not look happy at all.  Another one who must've been naughty - hence the hand cuffs. Good golly and tsk, tsk. Looking at her is just like when I watch East Enders - life is good in comparison.

These two look like single parents - maybe we should introduce them.  I hope I've not offended any serious art lover(s), reading this posting of Prairie. My attitude is a bit silly tonight.   I worship art, as much as I worship "my" cows. I really do love it. In my dream, I'm leaving Paris now and this is what I see as I melt away from my hallucination. I'm lifting away from the Louvre and out to the sidewalks of Paris. Oh la la !

I so want to live in this house !!

Thank you for reading Prairie - if you enjoyed my little blog, please share the love !  Au revoir !

Holywell

Happy June 1st everyone ! It's good to be home to St. Ives after a three week holiday in America. I'm back just in time to bathe in the lovely temperate, summer sunshine - let's hope we get more of the yellow rays this year as the last two summers have not felt like the season should be. I happened to experience a wicked 106 degree -41 Celsius whilst in Phoenix, Arizona - Lordy Mama !!  And that's nothing - Phoenix can see temps well into 46 Celsius and beyond. I know I complain about the cold, damp weather of England, but 106 and above is too much for me !  Yes - a walk along the green, wooded countryside is just what this Prairie needed.  And so "over the river and through the woods" to Holywell we will go !! There and back - Holywell, is about a five mile walk from St. Ives.  Along the way, I passed by the Ivo Lakes - is this not the most gorgeous lake ?

Now I know that all villages and towns have the old historic church, but Holywell, has one of the most serene and dearest churches I've ever come across.  It is a church with special character about it. Plant me there please - under one of those tall, shading trees ! Right next to that fat cow in the meadow.

The road that follows the river has some very pretty cottages and flower gardens !

I saw this purple house - not so pretty or amusing - just a bit of a surprise really. Wonder if there was a special sale on purple paint that week. Don't they have laws against this in England ?  Everyone who likes this purple house, please send me an email telling me why. Right outside the purple house was a post box in dire need of paint restoration - see it there mounted on the green post ?

Here are some of the houses I saw along the way to the pub.  I'm so ready for that beer now !

I love how this house seems to peek out over the hedge line.

Not sure if this is the age of the house or the simply the house number. Notice the teeny, tiny window ?! 

First a purple house then this pink one !  Adorable.  

At last !! The Ferry Boat Inn is said to be one of England's most haunted pubs and also listed in the Domesday Book.  Supposedly the pub is haunted by the spirit of a broken-hearted young girl.  Beer please !

Walking towards the fields that lead back to St.Ives, I had to glance back and take one last look back at that little stone church.  The fat cow I like so much is in the grassy area right behind that majestic willow tree. 

What is a perfect day ? My definition would be: walking the pastoral meadows of England, sunshine smiling down on your face and a very cold beer ! Does not get much better than this. 

Thanks for reading Prairie !

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Holywell,_Cambridgeshire

http://www.pub-explorer.com/cambs/pub/oldferryboatholywell.htm

Graduation Day In The Desert

Today, my lovely daughter Christina, graduated from Arizona State University - and I was there to see it ! The Convocation started at eight a.m. at Wells Fargo Arena, with several hundred young adults, now with super fortified brains, taking the walk to the stage for a hand shake, announcement of notable achievement and a folder that says "your diploma will be mailed to you."  At 10:30, we exited to a scorching blast of 90 degree heat - and we were so ready for a cold drink and nice bit of breakfast.  I'm posting a few photos of the day's event, and my two daughters, Julia and Christina.  

Just so you know - that splotch on the ground is not "sick." It's merely a splotch of some foreign matter.  It looks very deceiving doesn't it; Christina and the daub of white on the ground. Although extremely nervous and excited, she was simply bending over to zip up her gown. I think I over scrutinize my photos. By now, you know how weird I am. 

And they're off !  Mum following with the camera.

A few photos before we go inside.

We arrived early so as to get good seats.

She's slightly excited - she found her sister's name in the ASU Program. 

I was pleased to find out, the guest speaker was Hugh Downs.  For those of you in the UK that have never heard of him - Hugh has been a journalist, author, American TV personality and all around public face for over three decades. Intelligent, a wonderful persona, inspirational and adventurous - just a few words to describe him. I've enjoyed watching Hugh report news and present documentaries since I've been just a little ankle-biter. I have a great deal of respect for this man.  He kept the speech short - I liked that.  

Just look at the brainpower amassed in this stadium.  I wish I had a small fraction of their youthful smarts and recall ability.  I would like that - for balancing my checkbook and finding my car keys.

There's my baby - getting ready to walk to take the glory walk to the stage - you go Christina !! Did I mention she graduated with highest honours and wore TWO cords ?!  Proud mum.

Anyone got a tissue ?  Sniff, sniff - blub, blub.

I so like the communication of love , showing appreciation to Mum and Dad - upside down even ?

Ready to conquer the world. I love this girl !

Showing some sisterly love - ahhhh !

Waiting for our table, I snapped these photos of the graduate - lovely !  I'm so proud of you Christina.

Catching Up From America !

I've taken a short break from blogging as I thought my posts were a bit blah.Lucky you - I'm back now !! I'm visiting family in the Valley of the Sun - Phoenix, Arizona. My youngest daughter graduates from Arizona State University with double honours - very proud Mum here !  I was really excited to visit family and was gagging to get out in the desert amongst the orange and purple sunsets and cacti and snap lots and lots of photos.  Instead, I'm staying inside, trying to escape the 100 degrees F. temperature. Tomorrow, and into next week, it's to get to 104 degrees - yikes !!  To be honest, this heat is kicking my butt.  I'm so knackered most nights, I'm ready for bed by nine p.m. To think I lived here for over twelve years in this climate. As I have no photos of the desert - have only taken photos of my daughter's silly cats - will post some cool, green photos of Cambridge that I took right before leaving England.  I know I moan a lot about the weather in England, but I'm a bit homesick for rain right now.  Really missing my cows. Can you just smell the fresh air and even smell the colour of green when you look at these photos ? Is is possible to smell the scent of a colour - I wonder ?!

Okay, so I've played with the colours a bit.  Can you smell monochrome and sepia? I even miss the funny little balloon fella, who when he speaks, sounds like an animated, bass robot with a gurgling in his voice.  I find the big red ballon somewhat repulsive - will leave it to your imagination. So if you need to write me - I'm here, hanging out with two house cats in the desert - in an air conditioned house with all the fans going at high speed - ahhhh !!  It's almost noon - time for an ice cold Becks.

Music For The Soul

One of my greatest loves other than photography, is music.  So when I received this music video from my chum ~ Howard ~ I just knew I had to post it to Prairie. It's one of my all time favourite songs done up perfect in a blues-reggae style.  It brought tears to my eyes - the people performing the song really, really get it. So sit back and give it a listen - it's very impressive - it's a collage of artists from all over the globe. Thanks a bunch for sharing ~ Howard !!

*Note*  This is a previous post which I'm doing again.  The first one I posted was removed from the source website.  Click on the words "Playing For Change"  to be directed to the Playing For Change website where you can watch this brilliant clip and several other songs by Mark Johnson. 

Splendor In The Grass

Today, I'm posting another classic movie I really love.  Splendor In The Grass - starring Natalie Wood and Warren Beatty. Set in the 1920's, it's a tragic, coming of age, teenage sexually repressed, quasi Romeo & Juliet, heartbreak -  love story.  Oh my !  Sounds exactly like a biography of my teenage years.  Natalie Wood was such a fine actress and had the most beautiful expressive eyes. Made in 1961, Splendor In The Grass, shocked audiences with the first ever - French kiss !  Worth watching.  

Teun Hocks

There are a great many photographers that I admire and appreciate and each month, my favourites list seems to get longer and longer.  One artist who is at the top of my list, is Dutch photographer, Tuen Hocks. Similar to photographer Cindy Sherman, Hocks uses "himself" as the subject matter for his photography - portraying himself as a middle-aged man in the most absurd circumstances.  I love the satire and quirkiness of his style and the fact that he leaves it up to the viewer to decide whether to regard his art as irony or something more serious. 

Tuen first sketches his ideas to paper, as this helps with the creation of the concept. He builds and paints all of the backdrops - then takes his own photo, enlarges it, tones it sepia and then adds oil paint to the image.  He does all of this without the help of assistants - he presses the remote shutter and tosses it to the side, out of the way of the camera.  

I love powerful, dramatically staged landscape images and drool over lovely fashion photography - but Tuen Hocks makes me smile and draws me into his world and imagination.  Part irony, whimsy and maybe truth even.

http://www.teunhocks.nl/Teun_Hocks/TEUN_HOCKS.html

Lakes of St. Ives

I've spent many a day at the Lakes of St. Ives - just a short walk from where I live - this is where I discovered the beautifully hued - caramel browns and peach white - French Breed cows that looked after my Little Sheep. Sadly, after the recent floods, all of the cows, the herd that grazed across the river from my flat, including the French cows and Little Sheep were all removed by the farmers - for their safety of course. The French cows have been returned - but only half strong - maybe ten in all. Alas, no Little Sheep.  I really miss that little guy. It's just not the same. Today, I'm posting quite a few photos of the Lakes in all seasons.   

The richness of textures and layers of colours that one can capture with a camera look more like a painting instead of a photograph.  Every earth colour imaginable is on display at this group of lovely lakes.

I think to catch a serene moment - a misty morning such as this one - with the sun trying to burn through to greet the day, is magical.  I keep looking around for those little woodland fairies to appear !

It's very healing to walk around these lakes - a place where one can meditate, smell the musty scents of earth, grass and water.  Every season dresses this enchanting area with a new set of varied and brilliant coloured clothing.  Spring time is when the birds are most active, geared for courting and finding a mate. I have seen the most interesting squabbles between breeds - grey geese chasing ducks, swans chasing grey geese, Canada geese chasing all of them - these being the monarchs of the lakes.  I love spying the shy and fuzzy newborns, swimming in little grouped flotillas - following the ever cautious Mum.

The photograph above -is looking down the path to the Lakes - I was amazed at the consistency of textures. I didn't manipulate the photo in any way - it looks almost like it's been painted.

This year, I hope to capture in photos, more variety of sweet singing birds that inhabit the Lakes. Although I don't know the names of all the birds I see, I'm getting really good at identifying them by the songs they sing.  I will keep you posted if Little Sheep ever comes back to the Lakes.  Goodness golly - I miss him !! You might enjoy going back to the very beginning of Prairie and having a read of the first three posts. There, you will see the history and first photos of Little Sheep and French cow giving him some sugar {aka} LOVE.  Have a wonderful day !!

Rear Window

Rear Window is absolutely one of my favourite Alfred Hitchcock movies of all time. The lovely Grace Kelly and cuddly Jimmy Stewart are the perfect pick for the roles.  They say that Hitchcock had a cameo in every movie he made.  I have spotted him in this one - obscured - walking along the sidewalk in a street scene. You have to be quick to spot him between the buildings.  Grace Kelly's outfits are ever so posh and I think she's exquisite ! If this clip peaks your interest - you might like to know that cult following says; it has one of the best "kissing" scenes ever made.