We Go Out After Dark

I’m finally having a go at Maggie Elizabeth’ prompt, this week she said it could be  a photo, art, writing or a song. 

So I’m using a photo you may have seen before  and have just scrawled this to go with it. You may need to live in Britain to get it, I don’t know?

We go out after dark

Freshness of face hidden

Under identical masks

Displaying our individuality

Our dress sense unique

Only five thousand made

For a top shops 440 branches

Glittered American nails

Rhinestoned sweep of lashes

Scaffolding to access

Gold heeled sparkling platforms

Break our legs on Jagerbombs

When we go out after dark

Very rare huntresses

Maggie would be thrilled to see you if you would like to join in!

Widecombe Fair

Every September on the second Tuesday of the month perhaps the most famous of all the country fairs takes place at Widecombe, on Dartmoor. It began more than 150 years ago as a market but has grown to become a showcase for all the best of what the area has to offer. As well as ponies, cattle and sheep, there are events like terrier racing, bale tossing and tug of war. It is well known for the song Widecombe Fair,

Tom Pearce, Tom Pearce, lend me your grey mare,

All along, down along, out along lee

For I want to go to Widecombe fair

With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney

Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

 

And when shall I see again my grey mare?

All along, down along, out along lee.

By Friday soon, or Saturday noon,

With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney

Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

 

Then Friday came and Saturday noon

All along down along out along lee

But Tom Pearse’s old mare have not trotted home

With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney

Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

 

So Tom Pearse he got up to the top of the hill

All along down along out along lee

And he seed his old mare down a’ making her will

With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney

Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

 

So Tom Pearce’s old mare her took sick and died

All along down along out along lee

And Tom he sat down on a stone and he cried

With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney

Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

 

But this isn’t the end of this shocking affair

All along down along out along lee

Nor though they be dead of the horrid career

With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney

Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

 

When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night

All along down along out along lee

Tom Pearse’s old mare doth appear ghastly white

With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney

Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

 

And all the long night he heard skirling and groans

All along down along out along lee

From Tom Pearse’s old mare and a rattling of bones

With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney

Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all

 You may know the tune? The church at Widecombe, St Pancras, is known as the cathedral of the moor and I found this lovely ‘Old Grey Mare’ model.

The fair will be this Tuesday coming, still time for you to make it!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday Post: Morning

I’m very much a morning person, a lark not an owl, up before six most days. But up doesn’t mean out even though  I know its the best time of day for photography. So I have very few early morning photos. This one was taken at 6.02am of the Halic or Golden Horn.  Istanbultrails.com says ‘The Golden Horn (Haliç) is an inlet of the Bosphorus with two rivers draining into it at the far end. It is considered to be the world’s largest natural harbor and separates the European shore of Istanbul into two.’ It’s a very beautiful place and I like the light, but my through the window shot doesn’t do it justice. I’ve posted this for Jakes Sunday Post: Morning so do go and visit!

 

 

Travel Theme:Red

Ailsa at Where’s My backpack has  chosen Red for her travel theme this week.  Purple only tops red by a tiny margin as my favourite colour, so I’m delighted, but will restrain myself to one photo!

So I have laid out the red hangings, made from recycled sari’s, one of which I bought, from this shop in Jaisalmer.

Pimms at the Beach

My friend and I have a habit of popping to the coast straight from work when we can and as we may not have many sunny evenings left this year we made the most of it yesterday.  If you have followed my blog for a while, you may remember a post about the Exe Estuary ,  My city, Exeter, lies 8 miles from the coast, with Exmouth to the east and Dawlish to the west. Traditionally if you grew up in Exeter on the west of the Exe your beach was Dawlish and east of the Exe your beach was Exmouth. This goes back to the days when few families had cars and everyone piled on to the trains. I’m an Exmouth girl!

It’s difficult to explain the magic of Exmouth and I often wonder how tourists see it. It’s possibly a little jaded and worn around the edges, a bucket and spade beach with lots of ice cream stalls and chippies. There is a funny little paddle boat pond and a cafe made from an old railway carriage that were there when I was tiny and haven’t changed a bit. Magical it is though and last night it was fish and chips and ice cream, if it isn’t broke then don’t fix it.

There’s always something to see down there and here are some pics from last night.

Two of these canoes went out quite a distance last night.

There is quite a narrow channel and the tide was just in far enough to cover one of the tricky sandbanks. 

Paddle boarding has become really popular, I don’t know how this water walking lady steered her way through the little kayaks.

It was a lovely evening for a walk, the prom is a couple of miles long.Once we left the sand we left the chill of the sea breeze. In the distance is Dawlish Warren across the estuary.

A hopeful fisherman on the breakwater. To the left the tide is closing in on the sandstone rock pools.

The Tudor Rose is a colourful, bucket of a a boat that sails along the Jurassic coast and up the river as far as the Turf Lock where the canal ends. It offers bird watching cruises and parties with live music all year round.

Not everyone plays in the water!

The Tudor Rose is heading back and we had walked off our fish and chips. Time to head to the Grove, a seafront pub with a lovely view from the balcony and a Pimms! I hope you like what I’ve shown you of Exmouth, it’s very dear to my heart.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Near and Far

Okay, I’m confused this week, this is what Cheri over at The Daily Post has to say about near and far.

Near and Far. We’re excited about this week’s photo challenge, near and far, and hope it inspires you to play with perspective, which can give sweeping images of beautiful locations more oomph and power. Perspective is what makes a flat two-dimensional image, such as a photograph, appear like it is three-dimensional. To create this effect, you can use features like diagonal lines, which converge within the frame and literally suck in the viewer.

It’s too complicated for me, or maybe it’s just been a long week! Either way I think I have done the opposite in both of these photos because I don’t know where are the centre points, but here we go anyway.

Any explanations in simple Gypsy speak welcome!

 

Tis the season for Arachnids

Yes, it’s that time of year again. I leave the house in the morning and as I walk down the front steps I’m trapped, wrapped up in the finest silk, mobbed by a gang of speckled monsters who to me are giants. They cross a metre of path to stretch their tightrope from plant to tree and back a dozen times and each morning I have to be the first to break through. I grab a section checking that the beast is as far away as possible, too close and they rebound back and in a blink they are up your arm. They clearly think I’m one of them because they head for my hair given half a chance. But how do they make those long ropes? If a spider is three inches wide – believe me these are – then to make a strand across my path they have to leap twelve times their own width, all the time spinning and  releasing the strand. Or, perhaps they dangle their way slowly to the ground, spinning on the way and when they reach land they run across it and climb back up the next bush or wall to the opposite side? I know, I know but have you got any better ideas? 

This one was between me and the raspberries, I swear its a conspiracy, someone is plotting to scare me away from my favourite fruit. I have to self administer CBT to pick them. 

and this one was settling in the Rosemary for the night. I know their plans, it can’t be much longer before they want to sleep in my room. They want a warm, dark corner to lurk in until spring and then they will lay their tiny eggs. They will wrap them in a cocoon of white  silk, go and die in one of my shoes, and then as soon as its warm enough outside, three million horrid albino spiderlings will emerge. I’ll spend winter in fear. You think I’m crazy, irrational? Well when I was young, I was bitten on the back of my neck by a big, black, hairy spider and ever since I can’t bear the little horrors. I’m not alone am I?