Spreading the word, perhaps?

 And which word would that be, I wonder, among the ever decreasing number of bloggers who post something each day? Let me whisper it in your ear - security!

The prefix http:// instead of https:// before your blog name, indicates the blog is 'not secure'. A simple adjustment within one's blog settings, will rectify this security issue with a single click.

  No time to delay - do it today!

Golly Gosh!

Once again, Blogger plus Google have thrown a spanner in the works! Will it spell the end of us ancient Bloggers, as we are forced to keep up with the times? Hehehe - and what times they have been for us so far in 2020.

There is one consoling thought, though. Wandering the paths of Blogland to greet Old Blog Pals  by giving them a virtual hug or handshake, will not involve anybody in yet another Hand Wash or Sanitiser routine! Be grateful for these small mercies, and good luck with the new Blogger enforced re-vamp. Long may our brains remain un-addled enough to cope! ♥♥♥

 

It's a Bug's Life?

By bug, I mean virus, of course. Thanks to its potency, it has encircled the world more quickly than  any other illness in recorded history.

But amidst the increasingly dire news bulletins which besiege our ears multiple times a day, a new sense of community has began to emerge. It may be the one and only good thing to come out of this whole debacle...

And now...

A bit of silliness goes a long way.

This is a piece of popcorn that I couldn't bring myself to eat! Can you understand why?! Hehehe....

Another sunny day -

But fraught with IT hiccups. Goodness gracious me- where have we seen that happen with Blogland before?!
It seems I am unable to leave a comment on Napple Notes today, even though I am the original Napple. Whatever next? I suppose I must remain grateful that my self photo can again be left on any other blog on which I leave a comment. Two steps forward, one step back, eh?
Maybe I'll contemplate my navel for a while, and try again later...
TTFN, folks. ♥

Topsy Turvey World

Outside of these four walls, the sunlight is dancing around through the branches of my buddleia, highlighting some leaves in vivid lime green, while others remain in shadow-shaded tones of  a 'green with no name' - or at least, not one I can dredge up from my memory.
Small details such as these, must grow in importance over the next days, weeks, months, as I obey  the 'self isolating' command which has been issued to the seventy-plus Oldies such as myself.  My head fails to acknowledge the seventy nine year time line of my life, although my body has other ideas!
However, I consider myself fortunate that my brain continues to live in it own realm of 'Now' and 'Then', both intermingled in a tapestry which has no 'Time Frontier' of border guards to keep them apart.
In a world where boarders are becoming ever more critical, news items focus often on scenes of  people attempting to 'get back home' - wherever that may be.
As Covid-19 decimates populations around the globe, it is the one common aim which overrides all others.
The media dwells on stories of grounded aeroplanes  and cruise ships banned from docking; we see anxious families awaiting return of their loved ones...
But yesterday, TV showed trains in India overloaded, inside and out, with people who no longer had jobs, all desperately trying to get back to the villages where poverty forced them to seek city life in the first place.
No matter how many people strive to make the world a better place, there are still the 'Have's' and the 'Have not's' . The border between them is the hardest of all to cross...

Time Wasters

There are many kinds of people who might deserve this title, but this morning, I have one specific type in mind - the ones who persist in leaving indecipherable comments on older blog posts, in the hope that they will serve as 'undercover adverts.' At least, that's what they seem like to me.
As my settings have always allowed nefarious comments to appear immediately in my  email 'Inbox'  (from whence I take great delight in hastening to remove said comments from  whichever of my blogs has been invaded) I'd like to point  out to the intruders they are wasting their time, as well as mine. Harrumph! Here endeth the lesson for today...

Into The Void?

That's where it feels as though Blogger has sent Jinksy, for that was my bloggy identity right from day one. Penelope always struck me as too straight laced and toffee nosed, as well as a bit long a name to use amongst friends, although it was great for those in authority when they wanted to show their displeasure at something I'd done. Can you not hear them utter the 'PeNELope!' (centre syllable stressed) which was capable of stopping me in my tracks?

I'd like to thank Eddie Blue Lights for leaving a comment on my previous post. As I seem unable to get a normal 'Reply' option under his comment to work, I have resorted to posting one here.
Sorry, Eddie, but the thought of having to invent another Gmail address especially to accommodate the Jinksy signature on comments I try to make, fills me with trepidation. I shall remain in The Void which Blogger seems to have created, and continue scrabbling around for any helpful suggestions from other Bloggers who have been similarly afflicted.

Thanks also go to Smitonius And Sonata for their alerting me to the fact that I'm not alone in my frustration! I felt much better once I read other cries for help in the badly named 'HELP' section, which is proving to be of no help at all as far as I can see...

How to waste time without really trying?

I've managed to do that very successfully, this afternoon, much to my annoyance.
Although my regular Blog posting has faded to almost nil, I still get the occasional dreaded Spam Comment Alert...and two had popped up on a long gone Napple post.  I open the Spam tin ASAP, in such circumstances- if you get my drift- and can report the dubious words have been well and truly deleted.

But this sent me on a long and winding trail, attempting to discover why Google still refuses to publish my Jinksy name when I try to leave a comment - even on my own blog! After the best part of an hour and a half of trying every which way I could think of to get the Jinksy name to stick, I've resorted to writing a grumbly blogpost to no one in particular, just to register my displeasure.

Bother, blow and blooming heck, as a good friend of mine used to say.

A kind of time-warp?

After many moons, the sunshine and blue sky has beguiled me into a trip around my long deserted Blog. I see the space in the time-line between the previous post and this one, is like a great black hole.
Frustration hovers, as Blogger insists I sign in via my Google account. I'm not the greatest fan of Gmail in any of its many incarnations. I do have a Gmail address, but prefer to use my original BT one. Maybe that is where my problems arise? Blogger knows me as Jinksy, but Google can't get its head around the fact that is not a name derived from my BT account...
Hey ho. I shall simply rejoice in the fact that my fingers enjoy dancing over the keys, as I see the words translate to the blank page of a new post, which I'm ashamed to say, is the first of 2019.
Who knows when the next one will arrive? Hehehe - certainly not me, for I follow my nose, and that has no idea of time!

Thinking Thoughts

'In My Mind's Eye' is the title of the latest book by Jan Morris. I had pre-ordered it way in advance of a promised September delivery date, which I then promptly forgot.
So I was pleasantly surprised to find it ready to download to my PC's Kindle this morning, and I couldn't wait to start reading it. Literally... Now at almost two o'clock and fifty percent through said book, I've been stopped in my tracks. Here's why -

As I read the entry headed 'Day 87', I laughed out loud and long, and knew I had to share it with Napple Notes, immediately.

"That's odd. I don't seem to have thought anything today.

It does happen."

Surely all Bloggers and/or Aspiring Writers know how that feels?!
(Still chuckling, I head off to put together a very late lunch...

Not quite a thought for the day...

...But a bit of fun on a sunny afternoon.
Three local taxi firms have merged into one, recently, and  now use some kind of automatic ordering system. It may be more efficient for them, but not necessarily as seen from the 'customer service' side...hence the following ditty.

Taxi?

These days when I order a taxi.
there's an automated voice
that gives me several options -
some of which get offered twice...

It registers which phone is calling,
then asks 'Do you want a cab now?'
But should I be booking one well in advance,
the silly thing doesn't know how.

Another push button is needed
to request human contact, you see,
then eventually somebody picks up my call -
once they've finished drinking their tea...

N.B. I've now linked this to Poetry Pantry Go there to read a plethora of poets work.

Solstice with Toads

Not the hopping kind, but the ones who inhabit the Imaginary Garden ! With thanks to them for their prompt. :-)

Fact Or Fiction?

Summer solstice day…

what better time to share in

modern magic; sound

and vision from an unnatural source,

which seems to defy the laws of nature?

The bright hologram

must overcome reasoning

offered by the brain,

when song and dance achieve life

born from imagination.

Anyone for tennis?

With the matches at Queen's Club heralding the approach of Wimbledon again, tennis is in the spotlight, and set me contemplating another post on the subject.:-)

Why

do some

high scoring

tennis players,

serving aces in all the right places,

appear boring enough to make snoring

a secret sport

for those who

shun such

play?                            

In                 

sun-soaked

stands, fans watch

scheduled matches

while  television cameras capture

the audience - unconscious candid shots -

human sardines

packed in rows,

no tins

free.

By chance, I've just discovered that Poets United had the word 'human' as their stepping stone for a poem, which I happen to have included in the one I wrote this afternoon! Happenstance, or what?

Counting Syllables

1, 2, 3 ,4, 10 Tetractys – and variations.

Once

I knew

how to write

a short, witty

poem, using as few words as I could.

Now I am often tempted to write more,

in an effort

to explain

some odd

thought,

one

which comes

unbidden,

but must be caught

before it fades into oblivion.

It struck me that writing to a syllable count, as instructed on Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, is simply another way of using Blank Verse, where lines of ten syllables are de rigueur... The above might be laid out thus:-

Once, I knew how to write a short, witty

poem, using as few words as I could.

Now I am often tempted to write more,

in a effort to explain some odd thought,

one which comes unbidden, but must be caught

before it fades into oblivion.

This does nothing to interrupt the rhythm of the words, but makes a great difference to the layout on the page. I wonder which your eyes find most pleasing?

Alias Jinksy

Yes, that's the name of my other blog, where I posted this morning by way of a variation. It's quite easy to find, if you click on its name square at the side of Napple Notes...
I don't normally use it to witter the way I do here. I tend to post a poetic offering and leave it as that, but not so today. I began familiarising myself with some of the latest gadgetry which has appeared since I last posted regularly, and got over enthusiast! Hehehe.  Perhaps the Blogging Bug has not entirely worked itself out of my system...

Brain teaser?

I have wasted the better part of an afternoon, thanks to Google's latest hang up about 'improving security'. When it gets to the point where one's own blog is SO secure, it stops the rightful owner in his or her tracks, surely, that way madness lies...
I am indebted to an Olde Bloggy pal for calling up memories from the past, when Blogland was alive and well, as opposed to being locked behind security fences that would baffle MI5 - or do I mean MI6 ?
In desperation, I am opting to attempt a new post, even though it be nought but a last gasp from a frustrated blogger...

Hoarding, Plus Lateral Thinking?!

What a marvelous combination they make... This morning, I was determined to repair (somehow) the broken plastic fittings on three of my vertical blind's strips. They'd taken a bashing whenever the patio door was opened on a windy day, not to mention when visitors crashed into them when their nearby chair collided, thanks to it's five wheeled base and a less than gentle sitter-downer-person.

I knew I had a some wire left over from the days when I made mobiles, and I even remembered where to look for it...

But after experimenting, the wires turned out to be too hefty for the delicate twiddling I was attempting to perform...

So, back to the Thinking Cap. Instead of 'mobiles', I substituted the idea 'silk flower making'. This delightful craft I  dabbled with for quite some time, and it's left me with multifarious 'come in handy' bits and bobs.

One such was a pack of fifteen inch, delicate wires, which had been too fine for most flower stems, but I realised, a little late, would be perfect for the job I had in mind... and I had only to reach across my desk for them. They were right in front of me, tucked into a bamboo pen-pot currently in use for anything but pens!
In next to no time,  the 'chain-link' plastic loops were scooped up from their recumbent position on the carpet and reinstated to restore the blind to full working order.

When I tell you the price tag on the label of the packet announced 'Streets, 91p', if you happened to live in Havant, you'd realise I'd been hoarding them for at least six years, for Streets Ironmongers had closed its doors for good by 2011.

What? Me? A hoarder? Get along with you... Hahaha

Eggs, anyone?

Here is KP 'hatching' a few Easter Treats... but as that happened in New Zealand, I don't expect many Bloggers will get a taste of one!

All's well that ends well...

...that's the kind of day it's been here. At the start, I discovered that several of my posts from way back in 2010, had been targeted by an 'alien invader' who left a multitude of annoying, unreadable comments. Presumably, he was hoping I'd not notice him - but I did, and consigned him to the black hole of Blogger's "Delete-void-button", as he deserved.

But enough of that. Let's get back to Piglet, or rather, another piglet. This one belongs to Dr Ftse, and he likes to show off his culinary skills. So with no further ado, I present MacP helping the good Doctor to make an apple crumble...

I hear the finished dish was well received by all...
But Mac P decided to go for the healthier option of a grape or two, more in keeping with his svelte form.

History in the making...

Dr Ftse and British Piglet (BritPig for short) have been getting aquainted! And thanks to the wizardry of mobile phones, I've managed to catch the moment for posterity. The fact that it took an inordinate amount of time for me to work out how to get the image from my iPhone to this page of Napple Notes, is quite another story...

My recent acquisition of No:1 daughter's old iPhone4, has propelled me into the world of Whatsapp, and is forcing my brain into top gear as I struggle to understand its quirks, whilst appreciating its potential.

With a growing clan of Jinksy relatives in New Zealand, Whatsapp is an ideal link-line. But within the past week or so BritPig had the temerity to ask whether he could join the party which the Jinksy Clans were holding, and he sent them this Picture of Introduction...

As you can see, BritPig has an inquiring mind and a penchant for unusual friends, like this recently hatched dragon's egg youngling. While Dr Ftse is in no way a recently hatched anything, BritPig felt the need to get a better view of his whiskers and was even brave enough to hold out the hand of friendship, once he realised that a Ftse is not as scary as a Heffalump...

New thoughts on old subjects, perhaps....

Yes, I know there has been a gap of monumental proportions, while the World of Jinksy spun on in its accustomed, every decreasing circles, but here I am, pounding the keys again. I've spent the afternoon scribbling away, thanks to something that caught my eye as I watched an episode of an Australian drama - 'A Place To Call Home'...
Sometimes the tiniest thing can spur one into action. Maybe 2017 will be a year when I get spurred more often, who knows?! Anyhow, may all my Blogpals have a good year ahead of them :-) ♥


Mimosa

Flowers in a vase, briefly shown on screen
during some old television drama,
catapult  Gran's image into focus...
She once told me they were her favourites.

I see again her thin, grey hair, drawn back
in a tight knot, pinned with difficulty
by arthritic fingers shaped by hard work,
her left, ring-finger permanently bent.

I experience a tight knot of loss
as present tears blur my vision of then,
while the warm, dusky scent of mimosa
spirals its fragrant ghosts in my nostrils.

What wiped out the Dinosaurs?

That's a question that has long been asked, with answers being as many and varied as the number of people searching for them. The answers, I mean, not the dinosaurs. They, or their remains, still turn up occasionally to add to our amazement at the window on the past which science and technology open wide.
But I've discovered an equally tantalizing question with no immediate answer. What happened two or three years ago in Blogland? Did a flaring sun spot contribute to the mass black out of Blogger's computer networks? Did a host of typing fingers get RSI in one fell swoop, enough to make their owners quit posting? Or did the ever expanding Twitter and Facebook consume Bloggers whole, swallowing them up in shoals like basking sharks swallowing plankton?

Alas, alack!
Oh, please come back
my former Bloggy friends.
Re-crank your brains and start again -
"Keep blogging to the end!"

I urge you troopers one and all.
Don't let your Muses stifle.
Set to at once, create a post,
though it be but a trifle,
and keep alive creative flames
as through ideas you rifle!!!

And just to add a bit of colour, here's a fancy crochet corner on one of the cushions which kept my fingers away from my keyboard for months.
Thanks go to Dedri Uys for the inspiration which consumed my every waking hour until I'd followed her Sophie's Garden to the centre of her Universe!
Click the links, if you have no idea what I'm talking about. :-)

Ties that bind?

If you listen carefully to the words in the following ditty you can find the clue as to why I chose such a title for this long overdue post, which will inevitably be a true, napple-rambling note...



I have no idea when early cave men's descendants decided shirts and ties would be worn in favour of pelts, furs or plain old bare skin (!), but somewhere along the way, decide it they did. And ties, plain or bow, have caused many a wrinkled brow ever since.
I once had to give a fifteen minute lecture to a class of fellow teachers, on the intricacies of tying both kinds. Maybe that accounts for the secret wish I've harboured ever since... to grab the tie of an unsuspecting male, and slice it in two with a snip from some sharp shears. Not quite on a par with Tome Lehrer's cruel cut, as no bloodstains would result, but equally final.
I have yet to realise this ambition, so beware...

But on a more serious note, during my long absence from blog world, I have created a few ties, amongst them this colourful version for a birthday gift - hence the candle!

I tried both crochet and knitting, but I think the knitted one shown here worked best, although the boredom quotient is equally high for either method, due to the long length and narrow width. I think a mesmerised state ensues after the first twelve inches or so...

However, the third and anything but serious reference comes in honour of the great Victoria Wood whose recent death has left the world saddened, even while laughter continues in the wake of such a genius. If you've never heard her rendition of "The Ballad Of Barry And Freda", I urge you to seek it out.


Freda and Barry sat one night.
The sky was clear the stars were bright.
The wind was soft. The moon was up.
Freda drained her cocoa cup

She licked her lips. She felt sublime.
She switched off Gardener's Question Time.
Barry cringed in fear and dread
as Freda grabbed his tie and said:

To whet your appetite, these are the first two stanzas, with their reference in the last line which brings my subject full circle. :-)

Alma Deutscher, composer - Violinist and Pianist - The World Around Us

Long time since I was here - but this post needs to be shared as far and wide as possible! Treat yourself to twenty five or so minutes of sheer genius in the person of this little girl.

Hair Raising?!

A good question raised the other day by my Bloggypal Pearl, started me thinking. I suggest you hop across to read her entertaining take on the subject of her hair in its many ' incarnations', as you might say.
I was tempted into sharing the following personal information:-

I have little choice in the matter of hair. It grows in a certain way, and a wash and a shake of the head is its usual routine. So although it has gone up and down like a Venetian blind over the years, and I have streaked or straightened it in the rash days of my youth, now I'm only too glad that a fair number of hairs have opted to stay in the same place. Many others decided to take residence in my plughole or hairbrush...

And I realised, that no matter what I've done with mine, it grows in a certain pattern that has remained the same since this photo was taken. There is no point my denying it.

I wonder how many other lady Bloggers have discovered, as they age, that their attitude to hair has altered.? After passing through a multitude of experimental alterations inflicted on their 'crowning glory', do they finally stop fighting nature and opt for an 'au naturel' look as regards colour and style?

I can't wait to read your thoughts on the subject!

Named & Shamed?

In my early morning Blogland wanderings, I happened upon a fellow Blogger - Bjorn. He was issuing a challenge over at The Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, and I couldn't resist a little ditty to capture his given idea. What's in a name? At least, as far as the meaning thereof relates to the person who bears it.

And as ever, my thoughts landed on the lighter side of life. So with no more ado, here is my take on the matter. It's no secret, my name at birth...nor is this hideous photo, taken some time after...

Penelope was a weaver,
according to the myth...
I could have been a weaver
if I'd studied, and then with
Dame Fortune standing by my side
I might have made a mint.
But I weave dreams, not threads of yarn
and thus I am quite skint!

My second name at birth was Jinks,
and Hi(gh) Jinks dogged my path.
I'd be the first one to admit -
I do like folks to laugh.
I don't mind being dubbed a nit,
if it is kindly done,
and hopefully this little rhyme
will disappoint no one.

With Anne, my humble middle name,
comes the meaning 'full of grace'.
Without that, I'd perhaps be sad.
But a smile comes to my face.
I cannot help but realise,
thanks to its neat addition,
that it leaves me with abiding hope -
it might save me from perdition!

Thanks to Bjorn and his IGWRT's post this fine Monday.

Flown Time

From the back end of last year until Mother's Day 2015, time zoomed...in the sense of speeding along, not magnifying to 150% of the norm. THAT might have been useful, eh?  Imagine...each day could have been thirty six hours, which would have allowed us six hours to fit in all the things we know we should have done, in hindsight, but didn't.

My computer, which No.1 Son dubbed 'Sparkle' when he first gave me the Magic Box (you can tell, I'm no Technophobe!), took it into its head to Sparkle less. This resulted in many hours of frustration on my part, as the screen took longer and longer to live up to its name.

Blogging became more of a hassle than a fun playtime, so I switched my creative urges to the world of wool and whimsy, and knitted, crocheted and sewed  to my hearts content.

But now I've invested in a new, super slim, all singing, all dancing hp screen which Sparkle rejoices in as much as I, and the call of Blogger has been heard loud and clear. "Jinksy! Come back, all is forgiven!" So here I am. Older, little wiser, but in the mood to carry on waffling again.

Must have been the delicious perfume of those white hyacinths that's gone to my head, or perhaps it's simply that Spring is in the air, and the sap is rising...

Second Childhood?!

I was delighted today to discover this gem, which I remember having first heard as a child. The reader, David Davies, was a relatively young man then, but it wasn't until technology had grown to include tape recorders, that the BBC issued a recording for sale, by which time, it's clear, that Mr Davies had aged- as had we all! But the recording still holds magic of a very special kind, which I hope you will appreciate... *smiles*

My Sibling

Who plays with pictures the same way I do, will celebrate his 70th birthday this month, so his latest creation is especially appropriate, and deserves sharing.

I'm not sure which member of his family should have the credit for the original photo, but I love this variation on a theme. I hope the layers of loveliness in that tall glass will have given him enough strength to huff, puff, and blow out all his candles in one go, when the day arrives! Have a good one, Bro, and here's to many more. :-)