Wet hair, wet t-shirt and wearing a flower pot isn't really the best way to portray yourself to the world, but what the hell, this is a typical UK summer look. If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes, it'll change. And isn't that another British obsession, the weather. I guess its because its so changeable. On Monday and Tuesday of this week it was sweltering but yesterday I was wrapped up in a big jumper as I worked at my desk - shivering away. But today is a good day - its cold and wet and all that and I was thinking that being as its Thursday it will surely be a nothing day - and then what do you know, I wrote a poem. Not something I am well known for - here it is, in all its unedited glory, written in about five minutes at 6am this morning while I sat in my boxers and t-shirt drinking earl grey tea while Max the Cat did the hokey-cokey, in and out and shaking it all about. Poor Max, doesn't seem to know what she wants these days, wonder if I will get that when I am old too. Anyway, here is the Thursday poem while I shake down my linen suit to take to Scotland tomorrow - for my Dad's 81st birthday and P's wedding to her famous Scottish footballer:Thursday is the strangest day
its not in the middle
nor at the end
but somewhere inbetween
its not the start of the weekend
nor the start of the week
just somewhere inbetween
I rarely eat pork on Thursdays
can't ever remember kissing a frog on that day either
curiously Thursday has never been memorable for me
just somewhere inbetween
and yet I don't know what I would do without it
it does mean its not Wednesday, yay
and Friday is getting closer, yay again
so we are inbetween
saying goodbye to the week
and yay to the weekend
at a staging post between then and what will be
looking back at the week and forward to the weekend
somewhere inbetween
its not in the middle
nor at the end
but somewhere inbetween
its not the start of the weekend
nor the start of the week
just somewhere inbetween
I rarely eat pork on Thursdays
can't ever remember kissing a frog on that day either
curiously Thursday has never been memorable for me
just somewhere inbetween
and yet I don't know what I would do without it
it does mean its not Wednesday, yay
and Friday is getting closer, yay again
so we are inbetween
saying goodbye to the week
and yay to the weekend
at a staging post between then and what will be
looking back at the week and forward to the weekend
somewhere inbetween
Of course now you might be wondering what the picture (aside) refers to - huh? Well its part of the 17th Biennale of Sydney and I am going for a couple days on the way back from Cranberry - you can see details here to see why I am exited: http://www.biennaleofsydney.com.au/ but I like this idea, Songs of Survival in a Precarious Age, I guess we all have some of them. I know I have posted this before but it takes me back to Edinburgh when me and R. queued for tickets to see BS and are such great mates and I am going to see him on Saturday for lunch I hope, we get so little time together and we will probably end up talking about The Clash in Glasgow, och:
So anyway - here's an Oz art pic for the moment - it might be my boy Icarus, for who can tell what he looks like now - we can only wonder at the wonder:
Oh - and I stumbled across this song - been a long time since I heard it, crap vid but love it:
