UK – Page 103 – don't confuse the narrator

the green, green grass of home

Since I’ve lived in Spain, one of the joys of visiting the UK has been the glorious green of the countryside. This picture was taken yesterday from the top of Brecon Cathedral tower.

Brecon beacons from Brecon cathedral tower

They say if you can see the mountains it’s going to rain, and if you can’t see them it’s already raining.
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cyber support

I’ve been dealing with a number of phone help lines in the last few days, with all the frustration and button clicking that involves. But much as I felt the helpdesk and support staff I talked to were neither as helpful nor as supportive as they might have been, I was still startled to see this image in a BT leaflet.

I really hadn’t expected their phone lines to be manned by cybermen.

of telephones and translation

I went to a workshop in the Cotswolds last week, where we discussed translation and poetry. Specifically, translating the poems of Lorca, as it was related to the Lorca in England competition. I do want to write more about translation, but have been caught up in discussion of my other hobby horse, the narrator in poetry.

So, while I try and find time to compose my thoughts and write some more on the subject of translations, which, “like women, when faithful are seldom beautiful and when beautiful are unlikely to be faithful” – (I’m not sure who to attribute that thought to) – here’s a picture of an English telephone box, just to brighten the page.

time to stand and stare

Travelling in the UK, I seem to be in headless chicken mode, with no time to sit and think or write, and yet achieving very little. Yesterday, though, I took a walk , as it was a glorious, slightly blustery, English summer afternoon.

I’ve commented before on the monkey puzzle in my mother’s village, but I’d never seen it with cones before: