I know it’s not a word, but it does the job.
There are eclipses today, the moon, the sun (if you live in Australia – best view from Cairns).
I don’t know if they are good or bad or just are – I suspect the latter – the rest is all down to interpretation.
So for today, I’m putting myself back together with this beautiful photo a dear friend took last weekend ‘In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea’ and some music. To hear the full song that the line is taken from: Mountains o’ Mourne by Don McLean click here. Worth a stop and a listen in a busy world with its lunar and solar eclipses and general mysterious ways.
My favourite find this week. More details at the website
A London walk is planned in March.
The film starts, serendipitously, in Hackney.
That’s what I dip my toe in each morning when I hop out of bed.
I took this photo a few days ago when I was reviewing some snaps. That might do, I thought, for a day when I have run dry on the word front. This morning is still all about voids in my head, but I am mindful of Daftburger’s potential concern about my disappearing up my own arse, and of course the dear Wray Barton’s anti-void campaign, so I won’t go there for now. Then, as I type, Ed Milliband has been giving a good account of himself on the Today programme which I would like to analyse in terms of willingness to embrace one’s own learning curve: a pin-up for the business I am in.
However, bearing in mind those sensibilities and another blog reader’s devotion to all that is modern and art, here goes: my own side of the bed.
NB. This is pure coincidence, Amy Winehouse seems to have forgotten her pump, nothing is staged – all is where I (or a child) dropped it.
You might remember that pain from when you were younger (in my case) when someone you had set your heart on has drifted off somewhere to discover themselves, or worse still to discover someone else. Neverthelss whilst they live you have hope. That’s how I feel about greyhound racing since Walthamstow closed.
I could go off and snog Romford Dogs, owned by Coral, or take myself to Crayford, owned by Ladbrokes but why would I when at the back of my mind is the notion that one day, one very sweet day, the lights might be turned back on at the Stow?
In the meantime, whilst I pine away, Ricky Holloway continues the fight to bring racing back with his Save Our Stow campaign. In summary, as far as I understand it, the Housing Association that own the site can’t develop it, but continue to refuse to sell it back to the greyhound industry. One suspects a dodgy covenant with the Chandlers who closed it down. Snarl.
Anyhow, the latest is that greyhound royalty in the shape of the Morton Family of Westmead ownership fame are submitting plans to the council and offering to buy out the stubborn owners. The plans propose a mixed development of racing and affordable housing, a scheme that has worked well at Dublin’s Shelbourne Park.
Bob Morton’s son Robert who manages the track at Henlow rates their chances of bringing racing back as only 40% at the moment.
*Flings self face down on bed. Sobs*
I love this photo of a greyhound at Galway track by Patrick Dinneen. I asked his permission to use it a while back when I hoped for
Greyhound Racing Returns to Walthamstow headlines, but it’s too good to sit on for whenever that may happen, so here it is.
Fingers crossed. Whilst I am waiting for a change Patrick sent me this too.