Reading and Writing

The topic being discussed on the radio, as I listen to it commuting to work, is “Reading and Writing.” Specifically, it revolves around a scheme being launched today to encourage children to read more and to engage in and experiment with writing.

The discussion is following the usual format of a radio show. Lots of advice is being offered from expert, professional and interested parties regarding how best to go about the process of engaging young people in books.

It is being suggested that parents should actively enthuse their children through reading to them, buying them books to read and taking them to the library on a regular basis. It is also mentioned that contemporary culture, interests and habits war with the basic concept of concentrating for long periods of time on one particular item.

Time constraints have been referenced, along with the prevalent existence of modern technology, personal interests and indeed abilities. Undoubtedly, as with many issues, “Reading and Writing” is a worthy topic for discussion.

In my opinion, the burden of responsibility fundamentally falls on the parents, especially when considering children of a very young age.

As a child, I was certainly actively encouraged to read. My parents had masses of books on an array of subjects and I also received plenty of books myself as gifts for birthdays or as Christmas presents. I also went on to study languages and other areas of literature at an advanced level.

Over the years, I have certainly read an awful lot and in many languages. However, I hesitate to say whether I actually enjoy reading. I suppose I must do, as I have read things, such as the entire collection of Sherlock Holmes stories, from cover to cover on more than one occasion. I have even read stuff like Dante's - “Divina Comedia,” in the original Italian, although I have to admit that was a little beyond me.

"Beyond me..."

If asked what my favourite book is, I would struggle to answer, but then again, I would be the same if asked for a film or a song. I suppose, I know what I like and what I do not like, but I do not really have any desire to choose a favourite. I have read books covering a huge variety of genres, from Asterix to Shakespeare, but I actually prefer biographies.

To return to the point about today's discussion, despite all my reading over the years, I rarely read now. Well, that is to say that I rarely sit down and read a novel. Of course, I read the news and I look things up and read information so as to learn about different things, but I do not sit down and read purely for entertainment.

Neither do I really have any books in the house. I still have a load at my parents house but I do not possess my own collection. For one thing, I do not really like the clutter.

On the radio, they are making the link between reading and writing. It is argued that a good writer ought to improve his/her skills by reading and vice-versa. I also enjoy writing. I used to write a lot more than I do now, in a similar way to reading.

Equally, when it comes to writing, I have never viewed myself as imaginative or creative, not in terms of the subject matter. I have never tended to make up a story. I can be imaginative, creative and colourful with the language I use, or through observations, angles or perceptions, but all based on observations founded in fact.

I must use all the skills honed over the years through reading and writing. I assume I use them now in the way I learn and play music. I have reams of material that in a way map my technical progress and also my thought processes over various courses of time.

It is absolutely indisputable that reading and writing are vitally important for young people. They are not only necessary core academic skills, but they also serve a vital purpose when considering all round well-being and in particular, mental health.

Ultimately, I do find it strange how many people appear at their wit's end when contemplating how best to get a child to engage in reading and writing. What is the best book to read? How often should they read? When should they read?

From a personal perspective, it comes down to interest. Let them read what they like. I would ensure there are options aplenty and that literature is readily accessible, but it is futile to encourage to the point of pressure and exhaustion.

Encourage through example, good intentions and support. That is about all you can do really. Things have a funny way of working out, but when it comes down to it, people do what they want.

Friday

It is Friday today which is a welcome relief. It has been a relatively busy week in that I have worked five full-days since Monday, which is not something that has been that common for me for a while.

It is lunch-time now so I only have a short afternoon to go. It ought not to be a bad afternoon either. Then, it will be back home, get the heating on, sort out the “Friday Follows” and settle into a good Friday night

I am happy to admit that I have really taken to Twitter. It is somewhat bizarre, as I have never been into that sort of thing before but I really do have a great deal of fun with it.

Some of the aspects that I particularly enjoy include the fact that people within my circles are so encouraging and supportive. I genuinely gain a lot of inspiration from different characters, either through what they have been doing or something that they tweet.

Cheers Tweeps!

It is amazing but it does support all those theories and sayings that the little things really do count. The tiniest of compliments or mentions is very warmly received and appreciated.

I mention that it is bizarre and in essence, it is exactly that. Why on earth would I post messages, images, comments to people that I have only met via the internet, especially when considering it is viewable by anybody in the world? There are items that are posted that could be frowned upon, or worse, by a potential employer, but I do it anyway.

I think that fundamentally, it comes down to both human nature and the current global situation. I believe a lot of people have reached the point whereby they could quite frankly not care less about what the supposed hierarchy may think, they are going to do it anyway.

From a personal perspective, as mentioned, I gain such a lot from using Twitter. I am reasonably careful with what I tweet or post online and my interests have led me to some truly inspirational, friendly and fascinating people. Others may not have had such luck because there are undoubtedly some imbeciles who tweet, in the same way as there are buffoons everywhere in society.

Contrastingly, the whole online social networking arena could be construed as fairly 'sad'. Would it not be better to go out in the local area and meet like-minded people with whom I could interact in a similar fashion to that done via Twitter?

The concept is an obvious one and undoubtedly attractive. However, the reality is again different. Once more, the global economy determines that a night in with a few home-prepared drinks and my Twitter community is significantly cheaper than a night out at the pub or in town.

Furthermore, were I to venture into town, would I find like-minded people? I very much doubt it. My interests are obvious if you view my Twitter companions and yet if I were to venture into town tonight, what would I encounter? It does not bare thinking about really, but suffice is to say that the majority of night-spots would be packed out with school kids, at best.

All in all, I am content with my plans for the evening. I will set myself up with my guitar, a few drinks. I will pop the TV on in the background and I will keep my Twitter Timeline in my eye-line. Hopefully, I will keep up with the “Friday Follows” and I will refrain from tweeting anything too daft as the night draws on.

Enjoy your Friday!

☺ Keep Smiling ☺

I Am Pumped

I really need to do something. I am bouncing as a result of some sort of energy waves at the moment. I am getting stimulation from all kinds of weird things. My mind is spinning with activity and I feel inspired by even the tiniest of incidents. I hardly eat, I rarely sleep, I still consume alcohol and yet, I am pumped!

Perhaps it is some strange high-octane combination of the truncated sleep patterns, dietary deficiency and ethanol, but if this keeps up, everyone should try it. At least it is a natural high.

I do not take drugs. I never have done. I have a huge aversion to chemicals and pills of any form. I do not even take paracetamol/aspirin. I have always believed if you start making use of medication to alter physical or mental ailments, you are taking away the natural role of the body.

Once you have done that, you lose the natural equilibrium, without which, you never know where you are. Eventually, you correct everything with something, which is fundamentally heading in the wrong direction. What you ought to do is get back to your inner core.

I must make it clear I have absolutely no authority, training, nor credentials to make these assertions, other than this is my blog, so I can write whatever I like. Furthermore, I am a physically fit, intelligent and seriously jacked up son of a bitch, who feels like he is going to shoot up into the stratosphere and save the universe. So, who doesn't want to feel like me?

I am going to do something. There is a high energy out there. If you look for it, you will find it. It might not be obvious. You might have to search through the gloomy crowds and into the darker corners. Maybe it is up in the air, high in the sky, or perhaps it is right in your lap.

That energy. That raw fuel. That unadulterated inspiration is lurking somewhere and it is a fire-fighting, pile-driving, baby-bouncing gift from God.

Maybe it is an over-hyped intelligence, an elevated IQ or a maniacal tendency that explains this unrelenting, incessant and insatiable brain train, or maybe I am just taking the piss.

I have to use this energy. I need to focus it to ensure it is appreciated to its full potential.

I am not being confrontational. I do not want to bang heads. I want to be useful, helpful and positively outstanding.

Now is the time. The time is right. It is time to do it. I am ready. I am pumped. I have got the energy. Is there anyone out there who wants a piece of this energy? Who wants to share this fuel? Who wants to partake in this phenomenon?

All you have to do is ask.

This is no rage against the machine. I AM the machine!!!

Bring it on!

☺ Keep Smiling ☺

Tagliatelle and Meatballs

I enjoy cooking. I learnt a lot from my parents as a child. The evening meal was always a family focal point and I spent hours over the years in the kitchen watching, helping and eventually, cooking by myself.

I have also studied languages and have studied abroad, albeit only in Europe. I have lived and worked in France and Italy so have picked up on a few things.

I particularly like Mediterranean cuisine – lots of tomatoes, peppers, olives etc. A dish like Paella is ideal.

I have also long had an affinity with Italy and for years as a kid, lasagna was my favourite dish. I used to do some mean desserts as well, such as Tiramisù (until I checked the nutritional values).

An Italian dish that is always a hit is meatballs. It can be served with anything you like really but spaghetti works well and I prefer tagliatelle.

“Tagliatelle and meatballs” is the dish I am going to describe here. This dish is a guide, not an exact recipe. It is more the style, influence and flavour that I wish to convey.

Ingredients: (you choose the quantities) Mince (beef), onion, garlic, black pepper, herbs (basil and oregano), passata, tomato purée, red wine, mushrooms.

To make the meatballs:

Finely dice some of the onion (not too much), garlic, black pepper and herbs. Ensure the mince is chilled. Combine everything by hand. When done, separate into equal pieces. (Keep the meatballs fairly small).

Oil you hands (olive oil). Squeeze, roll and shape the pieces of mince mixture individually to form meatballs. The coldness of the mince will ensure the mixture holds together (no need for egg, breadcrumbs etc) and the oil on your hands will prevent the meat from sticking.

When all the meatballs are made, fry them in a pan and set aside.

For the sauce:

Use a good sized casserole dish and introduce the ingredients as you would for any normal tomato-based sauce – ie. onions, garlic, seasoning, tomatoes...

Then add the wine. Make sure to use plenty of tomato and initially, the consistency will be thin.

Leave to simmer extremely gently for as long as possible. The richness of the sauce will depend upon this. Even add water, to ensure it simmers for long enough before reaching the ideal consistency.

The sauce can be left and re-heated or used when ready.

At around 10–20 minutes before serving, add the meatballs and heat everything through. Correct the thickness with tomato purée as you wish.

Serve with tagliatelle and freshly grated parmesan (ideally, Parmigiano Reggiano).

You can vary this dish in all sorts of ways, depending on taste-buds, whims and budgets. Peppers and a bit of heat work well. Balsamic vinegar can replace wine and you can try different meats.

NB – Do not forget the oil on your hands and do not use egg, breadcrumb or flour.

Buon Appetito!

☺ Keep Smiling ☺

Plans

I have been blogging quite a lot recently. There are a number of reasons for that. Reasons, such as: a blog ought to be kept up to date; it does not take long if you are in the right frame of mind; and I enjoy writing (equally, when I am in the right frame of mind).

Furthermore, I never like to leave one of my 'inspirational moments' flagged up for too long at the top of the list as “latest blog.” Don't tell anyone, but I like to conceal them in the annals. My 'moments' are not hidden but while I am sharing and revealing pieces of me, I do not want people to make too many assumptions. I prefer a 'scattering.'

Today, I will reveal my plans. Nothing earth-shattering once more, just my plans for the day.

I did weights this morning – just free-weights at home. I tweaked my back a little, which was careless but it will pass. Obviously, I am now writing my blog and then I will have a quick scoot through the 'form' for the horse racing, which will be on the TV later. I will probably record that on the DVR.

I am not very good at the 'form' any more. I used to be but I do not spend enough time on it these days. I only put a couple of quid on, merely to maintain an interest. I am not a gambler. Gambling is a mug's game. I only bet what I am prepared to lose.

After that, I will have a bit of lunch. I am going to try to cut down on the portions a little bit. I am in decent shape but there is always room for improvement. Actually, I have always been pretty good with my diet, although I ought to drink a little less.

The weather is not bad today, so I will probably fit in a bit of golf, although it does get dark early. The membership fees are due at the end of the month. I am undecided as to whether I will renew. I enjoy my golf, but it is a lot of money and as always I still hope that I will have buggered off somewhere, sometime soon, so I would not be around here to use it.

The main focus of the day will be the guitar. I always play for a few hours and I go over and over the songs that I know. I do it while I have the TV on, or while I am having a snifter or following Twitter, but I would quite like to concentrate on something specific and new today – either a song or a solo. I learn them from Licklibrary DVD's and they do not take me long any more.

All that should take me into the evening, when I will be able to drift away into the night.

That should do it.

Those are my plans. Enjoy your day!

(Editorial note: By "snifter," I mean “drink” ☺)

☺ Keep Smiling ☺

LOVE

The creative juices are flowing now, so I am going to have a crack at a new genre. Forget the rest, I am going to share some feelings of LOVE.

The following is completely fictitious, therefore meaningless, untroublesome and unimportant. In which case, I shall name the lady, Gwendoline.

******************************

There is something about Gwendoline that entirely captivates me.   She is a girl of the night, a thinker and a dreamer. She has depths that I can only touch upon in my imagination.

I cannot seem to grasp what it is that obsesses me so. It is not her beauty, sheer as it may be.  I melt at the very sight of her and yet it is not the sexual attraction that manifests itself so intensely in my soul.

I linger on her every word.  I spend hours waiting and when those words arrive, I study them and analyse them as though they were a precious diamond.  I seek hidden messages or intentions.  I strive helplessly to discover an inkling more about the woman that addles me so.

My whole being has changed overnight. She is my first thought when I wake in the morning and my final thought before I go to sleep at night, She possesses me all through the day. I have changed how I eat and how I drink. My sleep revolves around her waking hours.

There are times when I physically shake – not tremble, nor tingle but vigorously shake - when in actuality, she has done nothing to cause such a reaction.

It is simply her very being. There is no real justification, nor rhyme, nor reason.

LOVE can be the only justification. Pure, complete and inexplicable LOVE.

I LOVE her mind, her body and her soul. Even the sin and danger in her, that should ward me off, do not quell my passion. I know that she will posses me. She will own me, rule me and preside over me and yet, I feel helpless in face of my unrelenting emotions.

It is inexplicable and yet real and I could never bare to lose it.

Gwendoline, my darling, you complete me.

**********************************

My Own Comment:

“Oh my Gawd!!! Lawdy, Lawdy, Lawdy!!!” (Amusing, though!!!)

☺ Keep Smiling ☺

Please feel free to comment for yourself :)

Patience is a Virtue

It is often said that patience is a virtue. Well, I certainly hope so. I have always trusted that time takes care of itself and that eventually you will reach your destiny. I suppose it is essentially believing in fate.

However, I do have major reservations about a blind trust in fate, as that does harbour the suggestion that there is no point in doing anything because it is all mapped out anyway. That is not really what I mean.

I am nowhere near reaching my destiny yet but it honestly does not worry me. I am not married, I do not have a career and I am in a job that bores me. I live in a place, where I do not want to live and at face value, I appear to be surrounded by very few prospects.

Depressing?  No. Worrying  No. Surprising?  Yes. I was a bright kid in school and very successful academically. I very nearly went to Oxford, but I bungled the interview. I think there was pretty much a universal assumption that I was set to be a high-flyer.

Liam "The Scholar"

A high-flyer, I am not, but I cannot complain, as I have never been driven by the desire for money. Fundamentally, I think it is the cause of so many ills. We would be better off without it.

I have also been a talented sportsman and athlete. I never made the big-time in sports but I have done what I wanted. I have competed at a high level in a variety of disciplines and I have indulged myself in them at the time I believed I should. I always wanted to do sport as much as I could while I was young.

Liam "The Athlete"

I am thirty-two years old but I am the youngest thirty-two year old I know. I have an active mind and an active body. There are so many people I see who are successful in certain areas but I would not trade places with them. Some are dull, others angry. I see sad people, mad people and bad people. There are also unhealthy people, stupid people and dishonest people. They all have their own destiny. It is not mine.

Something that I have always hated in society is how people seem to live in boxes. So many live in boxes both literally, in terms of modern housing developments and metaphorically, as in “this is my life, I must just accept it.” That is insanity. You have no idea what your life has in store for you.

A few years ago, after an evening out, a colleague asked me if I liked living where I do. I could not help laughing as I replied in the negative and explained I would rather live on my own on the top of a mountain. He appeared shocked.

Ambition ought to be limitless. I suppose what is really at the core of my aspirations is that I will not allow anyone to categorise me. There is no single box in which you can place me – not professionally, socially, spiritually, or any other way.

Liam "The Rebel"

A lot of people worry about the future. In my mind, as long as I keep myself healthy, I can do whatever I like, whatever age I am. If on the other hand I am not healthy, well then I might just as likely be dead, so again it does not really matter.

I do not like to map things out but that is not to say that I do not think about the future. There are little pictures that pop into my head of what life might be like years from now. They are all pretty tranquil. I am not going to describe them here, but rest assured, they are good pictures, happy pictures and joyful pictures.

Patience is a virtue and I will be alright.

☺ Keep Smiling ☺

Writer's Block

I have got writer's block today. “Thank God for that!” I imagine you are all saying. Well, bad news I am afraid, as I am going to ramble on anyway.

There are a few topics I have considered writing about and I have started upon them, but on each occasion, I have given up, as they are essentially boring, aimless and uninteresting.

The trouble with a blog is that you have to be positive, interesting and brief. People get bored after a couple of paragraphs – me included. It is not a novel, nor an article, more a musing.

I am bored of sport, I do not know enough about music and I cannot stand politics. I could probably philosophise for eternity, but people like to do that for themselves. Technology baffles me, religion is beyond me and love eludes me. What is there left?

Ah, humour! I could write comically and I could tell a few jokes. I am a funny man. At least, I do amuse myself. I see humour in everything. Moreover, I have the looks for it and I am constantly smiling and chuckling to myself. Hang on a minute, is that humour or madness?

That could spark a mass debate.

Too late, time is up, blog done!

☺ Keep Smiling ☺

Sleep Deprivation is Kinda Cool

I am sitting here feeling a little sleep-deprived, which is not a bad thing. I am actually getting a bit of a kick out of it. It is not unlike being a little tipsy through alcohol. Everything is softened, I am in a bit of a haze and lost in my own thoughts. It is quite tranquil really.

It reminds me of a time when at the age of twelve or thirteen, I was on a school trip to France. We were staying in small chalets on a holiday complex for a week. At night-time, being somewhat mischievous, amorous and cheeky, I and a few others would sneak into other chalets, occupied by girls.

Nothing untoward happened and we had a happy little arrangement under the guise that our shower did not work. At least, it was a happy arrangement until we got caught, but that is a story for another day. Essentially, it was all very playful and suggestive, but innocent enough.

Anyway, one night in particular sticks in the mind because we did an “all-nighter.” It was only two or three of us that took on the challenge of going through the whole night without a minute of sleep and it was quite an achievement for twelve-year old kids. It also led to the most surreal experience the next day.

The best way I can really describe it is that I 'woke up' in the middle of an outdoor market, in a French town. I had no idea where I was or how I had got there. I certainly had no recollection of a coach journey, nor of any walking, nor of how I happened to have possession of a rucksack, notepad and clipboard.

As far as I can recall, I spent the next little while trying to 'come to' and tentatively following people in order to gauge my whereabouts. Presumably, I had been in some sort of blackout and had sleep-walked through various stages of our educational excursion.

Amazingly, no supervising adults appeared to have noticed. In hindsight, they were probably in their own alcohol-induced haze.

To return to the present, I have not embarked on any all-nighters recently, but it is true that I have not had much sleep over the past few days. It is not insomnia either, as I have been consciously staying up late and getting up early. I have mentioned that I am getting a bit of a kick out of the haze, so maybe it is my mischievous and cheeky nature returning. Maybe it never left. Nevertheless, I suppose I had better be on the watch for any blackouts. In the meantime, it is kinda cool!

The Cherry Tree

I was wondering what I could write for my blog today. To describe my day would probably spiral into boredom and negativity, which I try to avoid and to describe my current feelings might get me into trouble. Instead, I'll briefly recount my tree-felling tale.

I live alone in a house bought by my mother for her parents (ie. my grandparents). My grandmother planted a cherry blossom tree in the corner of the garden about forty-years ago. It was a waif of a tree and I presume pretty in the spring.

Forty-years later it had become a monstrosity; it towered over the house, blocked out the sun and was basically an eyesore.

I obtained a quote to have it trimmed and brought under some sort of control. The “experts” wanted a little too much for their services, so I set about the task myself.

First, I climbed to the top of the tree and sawed. I continued to saw during every spare minute of daylight for a week. During that week, lots of people passed by, presumably thinking, “Why is this lunatic risking his neck up a tree?” One person even stopped to take a picture, but not one person offered to help.

After a week, the size of the tree had been vastly reduced. I now had a garden full of debris, which I set about clearing. At this point, a neighbour offered me a bow saw, as mine appeared blunt. He was right and the new saw was a lot more efficient.

Now I was happy. The tree was down to the main limbs, so job done. Then a stranger stopped by and enquired about the tree. He owned a farm , did some logging himself and was fascinated at what I had been doing. He offered to take down the main limbs.

Next morning he turned up with a side-kick and two chainsaws and we proceeded to fell the remaining trunk and limbs and sliced up the wood ready for splitting. I was hugely grateful and thanked them accordingly.

Over the course of the next week, I chopped, sawed, split and carried until finally I had amassed an impressive woodpile and I had a clear garden.

It was at this point that I became popular. Neighbours, who previously have never uttered a word, greeting or wave suddenly stopped by in their cars, walked up to me in the drive and knocked on the door – all enquiring about the wood. What was I going to do with the wood?

It's my bleepin' wood!

I still have the wood. I might sell it when it is well-seasoned, I might find a way to use it myself, I might even give it away, but I do not appreciate being treated as the village idiot for two weeks in order to become a cheap source of fuel.

I can be a pig-headed so-and-so at times! It also makes me smile that I am still climbing trees at the age of thirty-two.

☺ Keep smiling! ☺

Christmas Morning

(Editorial Note:  This was written on Christmas morning.  I have just re read it and it surprised me.  I want to share things with people, which is why I am posting it here.  Please do not misunderstand me, as I am certainly no evangelist.  I just happened to be having these thoughts at the time.)


The past week has been one of the most incredible week's of my life. I was not expecting it, but in essence that it why it has been so special. This life is not our own and that is the reason it has the potential to be special – and also at times so trying, enduring and painful.

I have always believed in God. I have always known that He created the world and that He laid down the foundations for the life that we lead. The basic elements of the Bible and the rules by which we know the rights and wrongs of acceptable behaviour were learnt at a young age. I have adhered to them but without paying special attention.

Various reasons can be found to explain the passive nature of my faith. They are far too vast to go into in any great detail for the attention of this piece of writing. However, it is worth citing modern trends and contemporary society, which has such a heavy leaning towards commercialism and instant gratification. Put simply it is not fashionable to be seen as strongly religious. In fact, it can be seen as a sign of weakness, of delusion and is risible.

Do you really think that God had not foreseen this scepticism?

“All men will hate you because of me, but he who stands firm in the end will be saved.” –Mark 13:13

“I care very little if I am judged by you or any human court.” -1 Corinthians 4:3

Finally, I am embracing my faith and I urge anyone else to do the same. It is a somewhat futile piece of advice, as when the time is right for you to commit yourself to God and to hand your life over to him, you will have no say in the matter. Nevertheless, I urge you to keep on the lookout and to pray for that time to come because the enlightenment, the happiness and the immense strength that is gained through committing to our Lord is incomparable.

I am not a financially wealthy man. There are elements of my existence that I would wish to improve. I still have not crossed paths with the woman with whom I will be blessed to spend the rest of my life and with whom I may bear children. These things can be a burden on a man whose faith is not in order. Faith and trust in God ensure the realisation that these things are out of our hands. Our lives are at the mercy of God's will. Patience and perseverance and a commitment to doing God's deeds will be rewarded in a way that God sees fit.

Neither did I consider myself a sinner until a began to understand things better. How could my misdeeds be of any consequence when compared with a whole host of atrocities that continue to erupt around the world? In which case, why would I need to and why should I take the time and effort to confess them to God and to ask for forgiveness?

Here is why: Any sin, however small or seemingly insignificant is wrong and potentially destructive. Even the tiniest of sins opens the door to the devil. The devil does not need to be asked twice and once he is let in, he will manifest himself and breed and spread and will tempt more and more so that mankind is corrupted. God did not intend for any sin to be accepted as the norm so we have to be wary of the constant temptations that are around us, recognise them confess them and basically knock them on the head early so that they do not become uncontrollable. If we need practical examples of the disease of the devil, why do experimenters of 'soft' drugs turn to hard drugs, why do drinkers need more and more to reach a high, why does one sexual affair lead to a string of unfaithfulness?

We are God's treasured possessions. He gave his life so that we could have life. I have spent too long in the darkness, asking too many questions about my existence and the reasons behind what goes on in the world. Any questions I have can be answered by God and I should never hesitate to go to Him either through the Bible or in prayer. Some of the small things that I am focussing on at the moment are that my body is not my own. It has been entrusted to me by God and it is therefore my duty to look after it. I do not have the right to abuse it in anyway. Secondly, I need to speak to God every day and continue ask for the strength to avoid temptation, I am aware that any sin is wrong and I must recognise and confess any sins that I may fall into, no matter how small.

Furthermore, I am duty bound to recognise sins of those around me and when doing so to gently nurture them back to health, never losing sight of the fact that if I do not, I am liable to be tempted to fall victim of the same sin. I am also aware that my Faith will be constantly tested and that temptation will always be around me, especially given the ways of this world and amidst a society where certain values have been lost by so many.

“Do not conform any longer to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is; His good, pleasing and perfect will.” –Romans 12:2

Today is Christmas morning. It is now 04:24. We are celebrating the Birth of Christ. It is a wonderful time of year where families get together, friends are assembled and there is a genuine festive spirit. Thoughts and images have been streaming through my mind all night and they have prompted me to write. It is a strange feeling, whereby I do not feel frustrated by an inability to sleep, but I feel I am in some way sharing in the Celebration of Christ. I have been sleeping and I have woken up and I have put my thoughts into words that have allowed me to reflect on my relationship with God. I am with family this Christmas. We will not be attending a Church service today and yet I know the majority of the party would be inclined to do so. That in itself is strange but is a also a sign of the times. Therefore, it is even more important to realise that your relationship with God allows you to be in constant contact with Him wherever you may be.

Today will be a day of merriment and celebration. My commitment to and celebration of God will continue for eternity. Only with complete Faith, Commitment and Trust can the Truth about God be fully appreciated. The Power, the Strength and the Spirit gained through it can only truly be felt and explained through experience. In conclusion, that is the fundamental reasoning against any sceptic of religion. Once you have felt the power of God, it is inconceivable that you would question His will.

Bored At Work

I think about stuff all the time and I write a lot of things down. I wrote this quickly, while bored at work today, so why not share it?

In my head, I've got the music to, “Lady in the Harbor,” (Waylon Jennings)

Gotta Leave This Town Tonight

(Verse)

My stomach's all messed up from last night's drinking,

Got another two hours of sitting here, just thinking.

By the time I get home, it'll be dark, too dark to see,

I'll resort to whiskey, and my guitar to set me free.

(Chorus)

I won't leave this town tomorrow, it's gotta be tonight,

I gotta break this mad routine, 'cos it just ain't right.

This Hell-bound circling spiral of negativity,

Eats me up inside and blinds me constantly.

(Verse)

Another hour-and-a-half to go and I just can't win,

I've got some shopping to do, even though I know it's a sin,

I'll buy a bottle of whiskey and a box of wine,

And I'll sit and I'll play and I'll drink, 'til I feel just fine,

(Verse)

Now I don't care, what people think of me,

I'm a good man, and honest I'll always be,

But I dress up, and I look good in the day,

When the darkness comes, I can't help but fly away.

♥ Country Music ♥

© Liam D. E. Jones 12/01/12

Johnny Cash

I had a quote running through my mind yesterday, meaning that by evening time, I was flicking through my copy of Johnny Cash's autobiography, “Cash,” in a vain attempt to locate the exact words.

It was something along the lines that although he, “may not be the best looking man in the world, but if I'd looked like some I've seen, I wouldn't even go up (on stage).” Although I did not manage to find the quote I was looking for, it was fascinating to revisit a book I have read on a number of times, but not for a little while.

Johnny Cash was a great and influential man to many. So much of what he did, how he lived and what he said, sang and played struck a chord with ordinary people in everyday life. Here are a few noteworthy excerpts that I happened upon at random yesterday:

When describing performing and in reference to the Louisiana Hayride, Johnny Cash writes,

“This business I'm in is different. It's special. The people around me feel like brothers and sisters. We hardly know each other, but we're that close; somehow there's been an immediate bonding between total strangers.”(1)

During the course of the book, Cash also discusses his faith. I find this interesting because a lot of people have faith and believe in God but people express it in different ways. Cash mentions how Billy Graham helped him to deal with his faith as a public person. Graham told him,

“Don't apologize for who you are and what you've done in the past. Be who you are and do what you do.” (2)

Another passage I like and on a similar theme comes towards the end of the book. Cash mentions the strength of his wife, June Carter and how, “she is a prayer warrior and I'm not.” He continues to say,

“Always, though, the first thing I say when I get up in the morning, whether or not June's with me, before my feet hit the floor, is “Good morning, Lord.” Then, by the time I'm on my feet, I say, “Praise God.” I know that's not much – it's not the prayer Jesus taught us – but it's my way of establishing immediate contact with my Creator. At some time during the day I usually manage to recite the Lord's Prayer, if only to myself silently.” (3)

There is so much poignant stuff in these pages. You can even learn something about music! Everyone knows Johnny Cash was not a perfect man, but he was good, honest and true.

Johnny Cash is someone who's example should influence and encourage you to be who you are, do what you do and get the most out of what you have got. Most of all, enjoy it!

♥ Country Music ♥

References:

CASH – The Autobiography of Johnny Cash
with Patrick Carr
First Published in the USA in 1997 by HarperSanFrancisco
(1) pp. 72-73
(2) pp. 226
(3) pp. 252

Communication

My recent little experiment with the web cam was no disaster, so I reckon I will use it from time to time in my blogs, messages, tweets etc.

Today's clip is by way of an introduction, so that my readers can put a face to a name. People are rapidly following and being followed by others on social media sites and it can be difficult to keep track of who people actually are.

Admittedly, that is not necessarily a bad thing and however public people want to be, they are quite rightly still staunchly protective of their privacy. However, as much as I would like to hide behind a carefully selected photograph or logo that I have managed to resurrect from the archives of my life, I do think it is more conducive to open communication if I keep my profile up-to-date.

This is how I like to remember myself!

Consequently, as today's video clip shows, you will have to accept, “the hair on my shoulders and the age in my eyes,” (thanks Waylon) as I am a battler in this world, in the same way as everyone else. Actually, more accurately pertaining to this clip, I ought to apologise for the early-morning sleepiness and the cold hands. Either way, the point is the same.

Anyway, I'll keep it short, as I am sure you are busy and have better things to do. If not, I will only start to bore you, so regardless, I am keeping it brief.

Keep communicating. Look after one another. Help each other out. Any love you give, you will get back.

♥ Country Music ♥


As a Bonus (or perhaps more suffering) here is something I have delved from the archives:

An Experiment with Cheap Web Cam

I have just bought a really cheap Web cam and so thought I would try a liitle experiment.  I borrowed a similar Web cam a while back and frankly, I was amazed at the quality - for the price.

This Web Cam cost £14.99 (reduced from £29.99) from Maplin.

I am playing through a Fender Classic 50's Stratocaster, "Hecho en Mexico" and a Fender 212R amplifier.  I only purchased the amp a week ago, so I am still guessing with the settings.

Anyway, I wondered how good/bad the result could be when simply recording through a basic web cam.  An awful lot of people seem to spend oodles of money on all sorts of gizzmos and gadgets, in order to get the best and highest definition of whatever.  Is it necessary?

Admittedly, I am lazy when it come to technology.  I have little interest and no idea.  I would rather spend my time physically getting better at something, so in this example of music and specifically guitar playing, my mentality is to put my efforts into hitting all the correct notes, cleanly and in the correct timing.  Until I can get that right, why worry about the rest?

This is a simple experiment.  The impatience in me provoked me to make a quick clip before I have really got to grips with things or prepared the stage accordingly.  In hindsight, the slippers are possibly a nice touch.

Anyway, I will be interested to see the outcome and I am assured of avoiding embarassment by the fact that nobody reads my blog!

I Can Tell a Rat!

Have you ever caught a glimpse of a mouse, only for someone to suggest, “perhaps it was a rat?”

The reason I am pondering this is that I have just written up a short-story, that revolves around what turned out to be a shrew, amassing a remarkably impressive winter store of acorns, big enough to bring a Citröen C15 van to its knees.

The essence of my musing is that if you have ever seen a rat, you would not possibly ever confuse it for a mouse. In simple terms, rats are huge!

I have had quite a few dealings with vermin over the years. Living in the sticks makes that par for the course. I have also assembled an impressive body count and have an overall hunting record that would rival any pest controller, outdoorsman or feline.

There are three examples, resulting from personal experience that I will use to support my claim:

Firstly, one sunny, early-evening my father and I were sitting outside when we simultaneously spotted a rat nip past a drainpipe and across the rooftop. Talk about sheer size! Briefly, we were frozen to the spot. When we came to our senses, Dad went in search of rat poison, while I fetched the air rifle and proceeded to stand there, waiting transfixed for the next two hours. You would not do that for a mouse.

Secondly, I was sitting upstairs with the computer, when a mouse scuttled past the doorway and towards the stairs. I leapt to my feet, whipped my shoe off, chased it down the stairs – two, three steps at a time, like in a cartoon – and still had the time to take aim and bring an end to the mouse.

Thirdly and finally, we had an old barn that had been converted into living quarters upstairs with a basic workshop on the ground floor. There were a couple of toilets and a shower next to the workshop. One day, I took a trip to the far cubicle to spend a penny. I did not bother to put the light on, when mid-flow I perceived a great deal of movement and splashing around in the bowl. I do not need to tell you that I was shocked and that was no mouse! I grabbed a metal bar and did the necessary and I thank the Lord to this day that I had not made my way to that cubicle for any serious business.

Perhaps just another random thought, but I am sure there is a message in there for all of us.

Nicknames, Identities, Perceptions

I was just thinking about nicknames that have been allotted to me over the years and was wondering what they say about my identity or the perceptions people make of me.

There is a common theory that everything is mapped out for us and that we are merely passengers on the journey. At the age of thirty-two and still meandering through life with no real idea of the direction in which I am going, I am happy to go along with that.

Some of the nicknames that I have endured provide for a certain degree of amusement and possibly intrigue into their origins. Therefore, I shall name a few:

“Li” (pronounced “Lee,” and short for Liam) has been a common one amongst family and friends. I like it. It is unforced, simple and I take it as a form of endearment.

After “Li,” there are more character-related monikers, such as “Beast,” introduced at a time when I lived, breathed, ate, drank and slept road-race cycling and training. It was used in reference to my incessant work ethic, in a similar fashion to the more explicit term, “Mile-Muncher.”

Subsequent employment in schools has made me fair game for name-calling. Strangely enough, kids have a childish element to them, which has resulted in labels related to my appearance.

“Superman” is a favourite. “Mr Muscle” (from the TV ads) has at times been given a mention. I have even heard “Spiderman” on a number of occasions, presumably from those who confuse their superheroes. A less appreciated doppelgänger has been “Where's Wally.” Admittedly, I was wearing spectacles and a stripy jumper at the time.

When I have allowed the Superman quiff and flick to grow, along with noteworthy sideburns, “Elvis” immediately gets a mention.

Contrastingly, when I was quite into my weight-training, had bulked up a little and shaved my head, I was called, “Jarhead.”

In further contrast, when I was very into my cycling and had got pretty skinny, I was referred to as, “Sherlock.”

Finally, I have even been called a “bum.” No, wait a minute that was not a nickname, but an insult. Thank you brother!

(Ed. Not that kind of "bum!")

Those are the principals so far as I can remember. They all have elements of accuracy and they are all complimentary in their own way - except for “Where's Wally.” I cannot see anything complimentary about that.

Anyway, I have rambled on long enough. I was just wondering, do these names actually say anything about me?

 

Newsprint Nails

You will need scissors, a light-coloured varnish, varnish base, a newspaper, alcohol (like vodka etc) and a top coat.

Varnish your nails by applying a base coat and two coats of varnish.  Put the alcohol in a glass.

Cut small pieces of newspaper large enough to cover your nails.  When your nails are dry, soak them in alcohol.

Cover your nails with the small pieces of newspaper.

Remove the small pieces of newspaper slowly.  Allow them to dry and apply a layer of top coat.


(Instructions translated from http://www.passionnailart.com/tutoriels/print/print.php.  I must confess I have not actually tried it out!)

I hope it is helpful.

This is what I do

I've spent today pretty much like every other day when I am not called in for some mind-numbing boredom that society accepts as work. I got up at 6am, went about by business and settled down for a day with the guitar.

I first started playing the guitar 3 ½ years ago. It is hard to say why I waited so long. A couple of reasons spring to mind - I doubted I would ever have the ability and I also had a serious addiction to road-race cycling for many years, meaning I spent thousands of hours literally riding against the wind.

My Dad bought himself a '60's Telecaster about four years back, which gave me the kick that I needed. I set about learning the art of guitar playing, became obsessed and set myself a five-year project to become good.

Initially, I amazed myself with my progress, but I do have a masochistic way of applying myself to a task. If it is not hurting, time-consuming and at times frustratingly difficult, then it is not good enough. As a result, I spend hours, hours and hours learning and playing.

I have been helped by the ways of this world and the fact that I seem to scare people away from engaging me in meaningful, full-time employment. Consequently, I continue to have plenty of time in order to further my progress.

Today has been freezing cold, dark and wet. I have been working primarily on ZZ Top's 'La Grange,' 'Sharp Dressed Man' and 'Tush,' which have some great, punchy rhythm parts.

It is a good example of what I do. I try to learn something new from every person. It is a great way to learn. I do not want to copy people but I will be influenced by them and my own style will come through.

I have always loved Elvis, then it was 'Country' and Willie, Waylon and the Boys. When learning the guitar, SRV blows my mind. I like Southern Rock. Through tuition, I have discovered Albert Lee, Arlen Roth, Danny Gatton...

I could go on and on... but I won't.

I play my guitar like it it is a part of me. It is a good instrument, it has got some scars, has taken some hits and is ageing a little, but it is solid, trustworthy and pretty sweet.

I am already pretty good. In 18-months time, I could be really good!

Anyway, it's what I do.