William B Sandys...

Isn't it wonderful how one can meander through the millions, nay, billions of internet references, and then just settle on one thing?....
Searching earlier I happily happened across a reference to William B Sandy, learnt something new and then set off to a further reference to one of my all time favourite Christmas Carols...
And so, as a result of happy wandering, and spreading my winter wings a little more, here is my all time favourite....

1. God rest ye merry, gentlemen,

Let nothing you dismay,

For Jesus Christ our Saviour

Was born upon this day,

To save us all from Satan's power

When we were gone astray:

O tidings of comfort and joy,

comfort and joy,

O tidings of comfort and joy.

2. In Bethlehem, in Israel,:

This blessèd Babe was born,

And laid within a manger

Upon this blessèd morn,

The which His Mother Mary

Did nothing take in scorn:

O tidings ...

3.From God our heavenly Father

A blessèd angel came,

And unto certain shepherds

Brought tidings of the same,

How that in Bethlehem was born

The Son of God by name:

O tidings ...

4. The shepherds at those tidings

Rejoicèd much in mind,

And left their flocks a-feeding

In tempest, storm and wind,

And went to Bethlehem straightway,

This blessèd Babe to find:

O tidings ...

5. But when to Bethlehem they came,

Whereat this Infant lay,

They found Him in a manger,

Where oxen feed on hay;

His mother Mary kneeling,

Unto the Lord did pray:

O tidings ...

6. Now to the Lord sing praises,

All you within this place,

And with true love and brotherhood

Each other now embrace;

This holy tide of Christmas

All others doth deface:

O tidings ...

Some things stay with you forever....
Deep in the heart...
Wishing everyone a peaceful time.....

Stuck for a gift dot com....?

Stuck for a gift?
Completely out of ideas?
Then worry ye not, for Santa Blog is proud to present a few ideas to lubricate the grey stuff, and inspire you to a whole new horizon in the world of 'gifts that get 'em talking'...
In at number four...'Wonder Sauna Hot Pants'...this is always a winner, and a sure way to delight the person who has everything...a great way to burn off the Christmas over-indulgence. I find that these work wonders at job interviews too, and I can assure you for some reason they make the otherwise inquisatorial interviewers settle into a calmer mood, and avoid asking you the difficult questions...it's almost as if they don't want you to get the job or sumfink...buy now while stocks last..a must for Grandma...

In at number three....Fundies...
Whilst I cannot vouch for the success of this particular item, they really are a must for anyone's gift list. Sure to be this season's big seller, and if you have no intention of giving a few pairs out to friends and family, why not get a pair and just hang them on the line? A sure-fire way to get the neighbours talking...or just do what I do, and break into the neighbours garden in the wee hours, and leave a pair on their line...an absolute hoot!
Availible from all good pound shops, find it in the pre-set silicon sealant tube aisle....

In at number two...and what a gift!
The perfect choice for just about anyone...how many of us have said on a daily basis 'Oh how I wish I could make something with a my personal stash of unused dog hair?'...I know I have, and I don't own a dog....perhaps I should stop buying it, but that's another story...
Some great knitting patterns are found inside, including the classic dog hair swimwear section, allowing you to craft the must-have outfit to be seen in at the beach...
First 100 lucky buyers also recieve the bonus pamphlet ' Crochet your way up Ben Nevis', a great read for the discerning climbing rambler.
Don't forget, a dog hair book is not just for Christmas, you can buy them another copy for their birthday too!And finally, everybodies favourite, Bread Gloves...
Ok, perhaps a little predictable, but I know you can all forgive me once again making this then Number One gift for Christmas 2010!
Yes, it's the gift that keeps on giving, the gift that you both wear and eat, the ultimate finger food.
Availible in a choice of grain, clasic loaf or split tin, bloomer or sliced, this is the gift that will remain the natures favourite for quite some time.
Avaible from all good restraining order websites, buy now to avoid the rush....

Next week....
Stepladders- A history.

The Snowman's Nose....

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr....
Tis the season to be freezing, tra-ala-lala-lala-laaaalalaaaaaaaaaa.....
What a day!...
Walked to walk, arrived looking like a fishfinger...just knew that the rectangular orange overcoat was a bad mistake....
A normal day at work....mad...
And then back home, only to find my normal 'Dad-chair' has a squatter in it, courtesy of a family reshuffling that was taken during my absence owing to the inconvenience of earning a crust...it is a temporary squatting situation due to a family member having a man-cold and laying flat on the sofa, creating a domino effect on the rest of the household....
The Dad-chair...a family tradition across the land, and to find those rights challenged is more than I can take....in my disgust I ventured out in the shady darkness of the back garden, and set about my evening's toil...to build a secret snowman to surprise my daughter in the morning.....well, that was the excuse I told myself, but in reality I just wanted to make a snowman, giggling here....the darkness was necessary to build it undisturbed...and what a mistake that turned out to be....
The snowman quickly took shape, and after about half an hours graft a new shape formed in the darkness....a remarkable likeness I thought to the guy who works up at the newsagent shop, and I made a mental note to myself to check out the guys teeth the next time I visited his newspaper emporium, although asking him to bear his gums to see if they were actual small pebbles might seem a bit suspicious, especially if he has his scarf on with the tatty hat, and the shirt with the three huge buttons...not mentioning his long orange nose....
I digress....
After the snowman took shape, I scoured around for pebbles and twigs....it was, as I say, dark, which was required for the subterfuge of surprise for the morning. I quickly found some pebbles, and a few choice twigs for the arms. I considered a manufacturing leafy eyebrows, and then to my delight I discovered a small nose like object that was a perfect snowman's nose shape...ok, no carrot, but certainly it would do the trick....
I carried my find back to the snowman and began poking into his face and body the various pebbles and twigs that I had found....a few minutes later I stood back to admire the scene and then a thought struck me...a photo!
Back to the house for my mobile, and one snap later I checked the print quality....and then, with the light of my mobile, I discovered with some horror that I had a small error in the choice of nasal appendages....when I say small, perhaps catastrophic would be nearer the truth...
I had stuck a frozen...er...um.....'cat's offering' into the snowman's face where his nose should have been!
Well...how disgusting is that?
For 'Frosty The Snowman' please read 'Catcrap Face'....
Hardly Christmassy.....
With a deft squeze with of one of the precious clothes pegs the offending material was expertly dropped over the neighbour's fence, together with the clothes peg still clutching it's prize.
Problem sorted...
A quick resnap of the mobile, and back to the light to check my results.
A snap that looks like some monster from the deep, the sort of thing you see on a Titanic deep water probe documentary....
At least the snowman smells better.
Literally.
Laughing here.....

Woolgathering season.....

It's been one of those days...
Busy....
Despite my good intentions to do naff all,I found myself doing too much. much to my militant inner self.
And then, a wondrous thing occurred..
A happening.
An event.
Not the sort of event that draws the crowds, but an event deep in the murky recesses of my mind, an event that I realised is truly quite wonderful.
I began to daydream.
Looking at my screen whilst planning all sorts of uber-boring shortages and delivery dates, I noticed that my mind was a'wandering.
And as it a'wandered, something strange happened, something I just cannot explain.
Something I cannot honestly say I have ever done before.
Something weird.
Something I can say with crystal clarity that is new to me, something which is a departure to my everyday norm.
I began to draw on my forehead.
Now, had this been intentional I would have known not to go the two-thirty shortages meeting, and had cleaned up a little bit. It's only polite really, just to show a touch of respect for my fellow two-thirties.
But, alas, I had taken upper brow doodling to new heights, or depths, depending upon one's view.
The brow doodles were the combined result of tapping my forehead completely unnecessarily with my leaky and rather cheap biro, and the fact that I think I may have inadvertently discovered that brow tapping inspires daydreaming......
Fascinating eh?
And so, I ventured into the two-thirty with a forehead that looked like I had been leaning against some freshly daubed cave in Lascaux, although in hindsight this may have been preferable, and would have left me with at least a reverse image of a passable attempt of a sabre-tooth Friesian, and not the junior scribblings of a madman.
If only the fellow two-thirties had not noticed it would have been kinda ok,but the feeling that something was wrong really sank in after the first few minutes when it was clear that all eyes were drifting to my forehead...I actually considered whether I was wearing a hat...and it absolutely sank in when some sleuth pointed out to me that 'you seem to have drawn on your face'.
Subtle.
The only thing I could muster was 'I ran out of A4, that's why I am at the shortage meeting....'
Ok, not brilliant...but at least I couldn't be recognised.
Smiling.
Ug....
Back to my daydreaming tomorrow methinks.

Some reasons to be cheerful....

I'm sat here at my old and trusty laptop.
Just thinking.
Knowing that I should be at work...
Thinking and thinking.And realising that I have gone on strike, just for a day.
My work will still be there on Monday, just a bigger pile of things I haven't done.
I awoke this morning on auto-pilot...stumbled from a daze of unsettled sleep, and coffee'd my way into an awakening of sorts...and then thought about just how exhausted I have been over the last few months...years in truth..but in particular these last few weeks.
Overdoing it. As simple as that.
And I thought about last night.
And knew that I had reached my limit of endurance.My maximum output.Reached.I had gone the extra mile, and then found some more reserve, and then just a tad more.
And then the tank ran dry.
The ice hadn't helped, perhaps I was low on body anti-freeze, who knows? What I do know is that in letting myself get to an all time low all I have done is let my friends down, let down the people who matter most to me.
It's time to change,time to find some time for myself, and on doing so find the thing that matters so much to me, time for my friends.Time for the future...
I had got in last night, and literally dropped into the sofa.
Dropped.
Coat still on.
And the coat stayed on for hours.
Until I could drag myself vertical and reach the shower, and then a return to the sofa, and oblivion until the new frosty dawn.
I looked out this morning and thought 'stuff it; this is no way to carry on, and so I am here,and realising just how badly I have let everyone down.But not anymore.
I have had some really good advice recently.
Really really good advice.
Inspirational.
Almost an epipheny.
Not almost, an actual epipheny.And I realise now that I am learning to fly.
Learning how to spread my wings.
And I know that I will relapse into the odd bout of over doing it, that's just my way, but I know I will REALISE when I am overdoing it, and that's the difference, because now when I gauge myself and what I have left to do before my eyes close for the day, I will have already left some fuel in the tank for those who really matter most.
And you know who you are.
Those who have helped me to escape to a new awakening.Those who I have not been in contact as much as I would have liked.
Those who matter the most.
Those who put so much time in helping me reach for the sky.
Thise who inspire me by the power of word.
And thought.And care.
And who have made me realise just how little I know.
And who have made me realise there is a way.That there is light at the end of tunnel.
And as I spread my wings, and reach ever upwards, all I ask is for those who matter most to please forgive my absences, my many failings, and just remember that as I learn, and sometimes learn slowly, in the middle of this student of life is the most cheerful person you will ever meet, the eternal optimist who smiles forever.
And I thank you for keeping faith with me.
Thank you for you.And so a new day, and a Christmassy one hopefully full of cheer.
I shall try to stay away from all work-related items, and get some fresh air, breathe in deep and open my tired eyes a little wider, and view the world in a slightly different light, and new light of realisation.
Anticipation.And set myself new goals.
And realise that there is so very much to be cheerful about.
Extra-cheerful.
My wonderful friends, who inspire me in so many ways, with simple words of wisdom.
Thinking here.
I think this will be a great Christmas, and I know I have already have the best ever present.
A new direction.
A helping hand.A fresh new start, and right at the start of winter!
Who would have thought.Smiling here.

And grinning like Alistair Sim's Scrooge, giggling with happiness knowing that there is still time to make changes to his life.
It really is a wonderful feeling.
Ahhhh....bliss.
Ok, lets get on with the day.My free day.
Giggle.
My 'on strike day'
What the hell, we have one life, let's go for it!Freeeeeeeeeeeedom.
Laughing here now to myself, and thankful for my faithful friends.
Thankyou.
You.
Thankyou.And know one thing.
I read your words, and take it all in,and if you look for a reply, know that I have replied inside.
For everything is learnt.
Each new day is a new page in my book of life, and I will keep turning the pages until my heart stops beating.
Some reasons to be cheerful.
You.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

Trust....
When your Dad tells you it is perhaps not the best idea to leap off of the shed roof dressed as Batman, you trust that it is good advice..as a young boy trust in your Dad was without question...
Trust that eating greens will make you strong....
Trust that it's a fantastic idea to squelch to school covered in a veritable slick of camphorated oil to fend off all known cold germs and other associated nasties...
Trust that washing up will give you 'man-hands
Trust that the new Raleigh Chopper was a death trap, and that only pansies would want one for Christmas...
And trust that he could cut hair as good as Parker The Barber, and save 7 shillings in the process......
When the small package arrived early in 1968 I showed zero interest;nobody sent me parcels, and what could be of interest to me in such a Smalll delivery?
I should have paid attention, and run as fast as my legs could carry me.
Had I only known....
My Dad opened the package with quite some glee, and then introduced me to the latest family budget saving device.....it was a yellow plastic comb, which cleverly opened to allow a razor blade to be dropped inside.
It looked lethal.
What was worse, he was keen to break it in, and within seconds I was sat on a chair, and he set to work with his considerable lack of barberesque skill.Looking back I am sure his hair-styling experience was limited to reading Sweeney Todd a few times, and perhaps over zealousness in peeling the spuds.
Peeling spuds...he used the same technique...in just five good minutes he had hacked my hair to reveal actual skin in some places, with small untouched tufts in others...I recall him standing back to view his handicraft, and then step forward once again to strike again, and again, and again, until he at last admitted defeat, and that yes, there was a certain knack to it, and that a few more haircuts over the next few months would leave him with a better idea of how to get it 'looking good'....
I checked in the mirror, and I can still see the image before me..a strong resemblance to a baby owl came to mind.
Looking good?...Looking good?....talk about optimism, there was nothing on earth that the Barbo-matic, or whatever it was called, could every leave anyone looking good.I went to school on the Monday looking dreadful.....even the spuds would have complained!
I look back now with fondness, I can honestly say it was one of the worse experiences of the 60's....one minute a Paul McCartney look-alike, the next a a baby owl....
Squawk.....

The Smell of Paradise

Some things stay with you forever...
How true is this?
We all recall some vision or other from our childhood, we all recall an experience, the trip to the sea, the first pair of Levi's, the time you kicked the coffee table over whilst trying to look ultra cool in your friends house, or the time you thought you would just see if the paint really was dry on the front door after your dad had warned you it was still wet, and not to touch it, or else....but how many smells can you recall?
There are two that stay with me forever, and both are at either end of the Jimmy Durante Smell Scale. If the thing that dogs do with canine glee is Ph1, with Grandma's Eau de Cologne at Ph2, with freshly baked bread at Ph13, just edging out Christmas dinner at Ph12 and freshly cut grass at Ph14 (hey, I lived in a land of concrete..), then the two pongs that bring my nosebuds to life are the thoughts of Cole's Boneyard (Ph negative infinity), and Clarks Pasty Shop on a winters morn (ooh ooh, Ph paradise plus)....
Cole's Boneyard grew up not far from the Feeder Canal, the watery artery that opened on May 1st.1809.The opening of the Feeder Canal and Floating Harbour was one of the biggest events in Bristol's history. The whole thing was an unprecedented piece of engineering and cost £600,000, almost £400,000 more than the original estimate. Huge celebratory dinners were laid on to mark the opening, not only for the dignitaries but also for the manual workers. If the boneyard had come first then trust me, the dinners would have had return tickets. Coles dealt with slaughter house waste at a period when public health authorities worked to simpler rules than today.The smell of burning intestines and boiling bones impregnated the clothes and hair of everyone in the vicinity. The smell first hit me in about 1967, I shall never forget the experience, a blast from across the Feeder on a hot summers day. A semi-sweet, partly putrid intense whiff that took over you like a malevolent spirit, a poltergeist of a pong that made you gag and retch uncontrollably..nobody done any washing when Cole's was boiling up, and even on the hottest of summer days you would never find an open window on any house anywhere within a square mile.....the thought still makes me hold my breath.... a few years ago a good friend of mine told me he worked there for two weeks replacing some electrical wiring...he said it really put you off of your sandwiches. Sandwiches?...... I would have worked in a gimp mask attached to an oxygen bottle...phew...
Clark's Pie and Pasty shop by comparison, was heaven! The factory was just a few hundred yards from my school, and as a permanently hungry kid to walk through the smell on an icy winters day was beyond the dreams of mere mortals. Clark's Pasties...even just writing the name makes me want to queue outside the shop to taste the things....I return the shop every few years like a lemming on heat, the shop is still there thankfully, and each and every pasty taste as good as ever...bliss!....I was thinking of buying a few to have them cryogenically frozen, just in case they ever do the unthinkable, and close those heavenly doors for ever...shudders down my spine at the thought.
Clark's Pies and Pasties, you may ask, but you can buy them anywhere.Don't be fooled.I've tried them, and whilst they are reasonable, they are nowhere, nowhere,nowhere near the freshly baked thing. The difference between a fresh rose and a plastic one, and that's an understatement.
Perhaps I'm getting old....
Perhaps I need to get back to the shop....
Wondering if pasties can return to spawn....
Wondering if I could perhaps buy one and keep it like a hamster?
The smell of childhood....if only I could find a good photographer to take me back to a cold winter's morn outside the site of heaven.....
Pasty anyone?