The Corn Poppy

I became a Grandfather today, for the shortest time. 

At 6.21 this morning my daughter gave birth to a baby girl, four months prematurely.

My daughter and her husband are two of the brightest, smartest, coolest, funniest, kindest, most creative, caring people I know.  (That's them on the album cover below). 

They have always been lucky and deservedly so. 

They always fall feet first in the butter, as Slovakian grandmamas might say. 

Today, sadly, that was not the case.

This year I have spent more time visiting loved ones in hospitals than is good for the health. 

At the same time, on a more or less daily basis the newspapers have stories about the failing National Health Service. 

A massive organisation like the NHS will have its faults, its flaws, and for some individuals the results of this may be catastrophic or heartbreaking. 

But, having spent time in the last couple of months in a variety of wards from Intensive Care, Acute Surgical, geriatric, labour and maternity I want to say this: I could not have been more impressed with the level of care, the conviction and compassion of staff, the professionalism and skill exercised, the resources available and made available without regard to status or ability to pay.  Britain is privileged to have the NHS, preserve and protect it. Bless the NHS.

#blesstheNHS

TheCornPoppy is going to take a little break now.  

Thanks everyone who came along for the ride. 

Thanks to Flora Borsi for the initial inspiration and thanks to all the artists who have graced the pages from Leonardo to Cr2em. 

Back in a while.

Phil

Chapter Four - Going home

Chapter Four

"Goodbye" said Giraffe, the Giraffe. "I've found my pack. I'm going home."

"I'm going to miss you" said Charley Dog.  "I've always looked up to you Giraffe, the Giraffe"

"That's because I'm a giraffe and we giraffes are sooooooooooo tall.  We have such long necks.  Everyone looks up to us" said Giraffe, the Giraffe.

"Yes, right," said Charley Dog unconvincingly, "but I am going to miss you."

Chapter Three - Conceptual Artist or Trapeze Artist

Chapter Three

While waiting at a bus stop Giraffe had read an abandoned blog article about Conceptual Art and thought about being a Conceptual Artist.

It must be easier than being a Trapeze Artist, thought the failed circus performer.

Giraffe did some research.  He read about Bill Drummond.

Interesting, thought Giraffe. I could do that.

Giraffe looked at his handiwork. 

Hmmm, he thought.  Perhaps everything worth saying has already been said.  Art is dead.

Chapter Two - I see everything in black and white . . . and blue and green and red and yellow and purple and orange and . . .

Chapter Two

 

The story so far . . . Feeling full of existential angst, thinking there must be more to life than this, Giraffe had run away to join the Circus. That hadn't gone too well. 

The Ringmaster had asked him what circus skills he had.

Can you juggle?

No.

Can you walk the tightrope?

No.

Do you look good in a glittery costume?

Er, no.

Can you tame lions?

I don't think that would work.

Can you drive a Clown Car?

No

Can you ride a horse bareback?

No

Can you ride an elephant?

Nope

So Giraffe hadn't joined the Circus.  Instead he hung around with some other Circus rejects, Zebra One and Zebra Two, Moko Jembie the Crow, a Vulture named Moz and some dinosaurs.

"What a world of misery this surely is," said Zebra One, several times a day.

"Oh, I know," replied Zebra Two.

"All my life I've been bent out of shape," complained Moko Jembie, the Crow, at regular intervals.

"I could make a meal of that wonderful despair I feel," said a Vulture named Moz.

"Are they right, Baby Dinosaur?" asked Giraffe.  "Is life really rubbish?"

"No" replied Baby Dinosaur.  "You get to choose.  You can choose to complain all the time or you can enjoy every sandwich."

"Hey, Moko Jembie! Hey, Moz!" shouted Giraffe. "Does being unhappy make you happy?"

"Uh," said Moko Jembie, "I guess."

"Hmmmm," said Giraffe.  "I choose, I choose . . . life, sunrise to start the day, sunset to end it, sunshine to warm the days, clouds and breeze and rain to cool them, forests and fields, wild and wide open spaces to run in, trees to shelter under, leaves to eat, sandwiches to enjoy, streams to drink from, rivers to stand tall by, mountains to look up to, grass to look down on, airplanes to be amazed by, silence to treasure, bird song to listen to, my own song to sing, spring and summer, autumn and winter, day and night, dawn and twilight. It's a gift."

"You're crazy" roared one of the other dinosaurs.  "Get out of here."

"I choose . . . to go" said Giraffe and packed his bag and left.  Giraffe was on the road again.

  

to be continued



Chapter One - A short story, a tall tale and a lot of neck

Chapter One

"I'm down" said Giraffe,

"I don't know what I want from life."

"What if this really is all there is?" he asked.



"Any ideas, guys?" he asked his friends.

"I want excitement and I need it bad."

"Blow this! I'm gonna run away and join the circus!"

 "Sssh, I'll hitch a ride here."

to be continued . . .



Between the sunset and the sea

Between the sunset and the sea
My love laid hands and lips on me;
Of sweet came sour, of day came night,
Of long desire came brief delight:
Ah love, and what thing came of thee
Between the sea-downs and the sea?

Swinburne

Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.

Rabindranath Tagore

 

There's a sunrise and a sunset every single day, and they're absolutely free. Don't miss so many of them

Jo Walton

 



Canute, the world's largest floating crane

named after King Cnut, who reproved his courtiers, near this very spot

 

When King Cnut had reigned for twenty years, he died at Shaftesbury and was buried in the ancient monastery at Winchester. About the power of this king a little should be stated. For no English king ever had such wide-ranging authority. For he was at once the lord of all Denmark, of all England, of all Norway, and also of Scotland.

Indeed, apart from a number of wars in which he shone greatly, he conducted himself gracefully and magnificently in three matters:

The first is, that he married his daughter to the Roman Emperor with unutterable splendor.

The second, that going to Rome he arranged a reduction by a half in toll dues along the road that leads though Gaul to Rome. The third, that with the greatest vigor he commanded that his chair should be set on the shore, when the tide began to rise. And then he spoke to the rising sea saying “You are part of my dominion, and the ground that I am seated upon is mine, nor has anyone disobeyed my orders with impunity. Therefore, I order you not to rise onto my land, nor to wet the clothes or body of your Lord”. But the sea carried on rising as usual without any reverence for his person, and soaked his feet and legs. Then he moving away said: “All the inhabitants of the world should know that the power of kings is vain and trivial, and that none is worthy the name of king but He whose command the heaven, earth and sea obey by eternal laws”. Therefore King Cnut never afterwards placed the crown on his head, but above a picture of the Lord nailed to the cross, turning it forever into a means to praise God, the great king. By whose mercy may the soul of King Cnut enjoy peace.

Henry of Huntingdon, Chronicle, 1129

If I could lick the sunset, I’ll bet it would taste like Neapolitan ice cream

Jarod Kintz

 

Sunrise paints the sky with pinks and the sunset with peaches. Cool to warm. So is the progression from childhood to old age

Vera Nazarian

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if only you could see it the way I can see it