Wild Wild West

Really enjoyed listening to tales of the wild west and the Native American heritage of Alan’s family. He has been on some fantastic train journeys across America. Thanks for sharing your experiences with us Alan.

Next week we are heading west to visit to the MA Show at The University Of Central Lancashire in Preston. (Thurs 15th)

alan-yellow-shirt

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Batty Over Bird Boxing

A great session at the Bird Box Workshop with Emma Fielding (and her mum).

A good turn out and everyone learnt so much about our endangered birds and bats.

The open-faced bird box is the future and should be encouraged in every garden from now on. Its quick and easy to make from ‘un-treated’ wood with galvanised nails, and it helps the next generation of young birds to build nests in a more natural site, instead of relying on single holed boxes.

As always, we started off with a brew and some good old fashioned and non-judgemental  conversation in the kitchen, art writer and critic Grant Kester would call it a ‘discursive space’ although I prefer to call it a ‘digressive space’. The conversation today was a great example of how the beauty of social interaction can lead to new understandings of the world we live in, each of us recognising how our consumer habits can impact on the local wildlife and beyond.

In the workshop and guided by Emma, we all managed the simple steps to make our own rugged and natural bird box to take home.

We are meeting next Friday morning at Canal Cottages 10am. Pop in for a brew, if you’re passing.

Preston and public transport !!

A visit to preston was on the cards to meet a new contact called Marcus, and visit a small working art gallery/studios put on by some talented young UCLan graduate artists.

The day was a success and the group feel Marcus will be a great asset for the future. Also the art projects being worked on were very interesting, comparing life in Mexico with Lancashire.

However, the biggest form of surprise was an incident packed train journey home, where there were many forms of debate, opinion, resolve and other skills on show from our members, with one key message being learned “mind your business” or stand up for whats right. Both have positive and negative outcomes as we found out first hand, as the youth of today and the morals of us older folks clearly clashed, which is common on public transport, but all was resolved peacefully and lessons were learned for all parties concerned.🙂

Walking up Fishergate.

Having a tea break.

Camera Talk.

‘A Game Of Bowls’ 1927 by Roger Fry, on display at The Harris Art Gallery & Museum.

Preston’s ‘Covered Market’.

Outside Preston’s indoor market.

The Birley Studios, run by artists.

Conversations

4-web‘Conversation Pieces’ by Grant Kester

According to Habermas ‘every subject with the competency to speak is allowed to take part in discourse’, ‘everyone is allowed to question any assertion whatsoever’, ‘everyone is allowed to introduce any assertion whatsoever’, and ‘everyone is allowed to express their attitudes, desires or needs’. Kester 2004. page 109

Cranky old man 🙇

Various myths surround the origins of this poignant poem, one of which can be found here

The Legend of The Cranky Old Man

This poem should be read by every carer in the world

The content is so meaningful and reverent

We ask our carers to read through the following text and take time to reflect

PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM.

Cranky Old Man…..

What do you see nurses?, What do you see?

What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?

A cranky old man, not very wise,

Uncertain of habit with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.

When you say in a loud voice, ‘I do wish you’d try!’

Who seems not to notice the things that you do.

And forever is losing, a sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding; the long day to fill?

Is that what you’re thinking?, Is that what you see?

Then open your eyes nurse; you’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of ten with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters who love one another

A young boy of sixteen with wings on his feet

Dreaming that soon now a lover he’ll meet.

A groom soon at twenty my heart gives a leap.

Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now I have young of my own.

Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.

A man of Thirty my young now grown fast,

Bound to each other with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,

But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.

At fifty, once more, babies play ’round my knee,

Again, we know children my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me my wife is now dead.

I look at the future I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing, young of their own.

And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.

I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.

It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles grace and vigor, depart.

There is now a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass. a young man still dwells,

And now and again my battered heart swells

I remember the joys I remember the pain.

And I’m loving and living life over again.

I think of the years, all too few gone too fast.

And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people open and see.

Not a cranky old man .

Look closer, see ME!!