dawning realisation

In, through the crack
between Earth and the heavens,
slips the imperfect day.

sunrise over the Mediterranean

lies, damned lies and Photoshop

In the first post of the year, I suggested the outlook for the blog was “clear with a touch of Photoshop.” I’m not sure the photos in this post actually live up to that, as the sky is hardly what I’d call clear. Still, they have been manipulated in Photoshop.

In fact, there is only one photo and it’s just been altered to support my theory that how you feel about things has lot to do with your attitude and perspective. Note that I haven’t actually changed the colour levels between the different versions of the photo; all I have done is crop in on different sections.

So, life lessons from parasols:
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forecast for 2019

Despite what the actual weather is doing outside my window at the moment – which is grey with intermittent rain – the outlook on the blog seems to be relatively bright with mainly blue skies.

Or possibly, “clear with a touch of Photoshop”.

How that relates to the year ahead remains to be seen.

cat tale at the tail end of the year

One of the things I dislike most about this time of year is the fact that news sites are full of articles of highlights and honours, of lists of the best, the most read, the most popular…

To be honest, I mostly don’t care.

Even so, I am very tempted to do a ‘review of the year’ as my last post of 2018.
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cat napping

The other day – well, Christmas Day, to be more precise – I wrote a post with poems about sleeping.

That post nearly didn’t make it through to publication, though, as I realised I’d made a stupid mistake when I decided on the title: since restive was entirely the wrong word, I came close to abandoning the whole thing.

Then I considered re-thinking things and using the title cat napping to post the same poems with a different set of photos.
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slightly festive

I don’t celebrate Christmas and try hard to avoid the consumer chaos, so this time of year is always a bit strange: I feel there should be something a little special, but am not quite sure why or what.

Some wintry weather might help – there’s nothing like a bright frosty morning for clearing the mind and restoring the spirit. But when I went for a brief walk in the park this morning there was really nothing particularly seasonal, just vast expanses of sodden leaves and an unpleasant amount of mud.
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the restive season

I suspect many people will be spending Christmas afternoon dozing on the sofa, remote control in hand, watching the TV.

So it made some kind of sense to me when I woke up this morning with the idea of using “the restive season” as a title and writing a blog post with poems about relaxation or sleep.

Then, of course, I woke up properly and remembered that “restive” has little to do with rest – rather the complete opposite: it’s fidgety, not relaxed.
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