Chocolate to die for

•Thursday 9 July 2009 • 1 Comment

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference

….Oh, and not die in some stupendous way that will immortalise me not for my life by my unfortunate death.

 

I discussed my life in chocolate previously.  Besides having a life long passion, I give responsibility to my existence to  the king of confectioneries.

This is why the tragic and freak accident yesterday to a chocolate factory worker is so macarbrely  appealing.

A man died, his family mourn.  And yet I can’t help thinking phrases like:

I’ve always preferred my men chocolate.

May he rest in many bitesize pieces

That was a chocolate recipe to die for.

 

It’s bad, so very bad…and very delicious.

Happy Squiggly Birthday!

•Wednesday 1 July 2009 • Leave a Comment
Happy 50th Birthday Mr Squiggle!

Happy 50th Birthday Mr Squiggle!

That’s just too much like hard work

•Monday 29 June 2009 • 1 Comment

I’ve been spending some  time on my A story blog blog having fun with some fan fiction.  Well, at least the rough drafts are fun.  Second draft is work and final sometimes brings tears as I tear my hair out over a phrasing.

Sometimes it’s just too much hard work.

Today I went to a Children’s Librarian conference where Lincoln Hall spoke on his new book Alive in the death zone. He told us how he came to write the adult version Dead Lucky.

If you don’t know the story, he was a mountain climber who died on Mount Everest and was left only to be found the next morning alive and walked himself back down to safety.

He’d only just made it off the mountain a few weeks before when publisher were at him for his story.  Only problem was, they wanted in time for the next climbing season in six months.   But the poor man had no fingers.  Two workingthumbs and eight small stumps were all that was left of his hands after frostbite hand eaten away at his extremities. As a result, publisher gave a small advance for him to hire someone to type up the transcript from his dictation and do basic editing.

THE MAN HAD JUST DIED AND WALKED HIMSELF OFF EVEREST!  For pity sake, give him a break!  He had just lived through a seriously traumatic experience and he was still trying to piece through broken memories of true life and delusion he suffered on the mountain.  He couldn’t concentrate on anything for more than an hour before having to rest.  He two good thumbs didn’t allow him to write, but did allow him to work the dictaphone.

And that’s how they wrote the book in time for the publishers seasonal deadline.

I’m afraid that just sounded like WAY too much like hard work.

Photochains

•Saturday 13 June 2009 • Leave a Comment

Autumn

Check on this site and join in the photographic fun.

Mother knew best

•Tuesday 9 June 2009 • 4 Comments

When the ocassional wart would pop up my mother would say to dab a little milk weed sap onto the wart and wrap it with a bandage.  Within a few days of filing and applying more fresh milky sap the wart would be gone.    I know the same could be said for sunspots, but I won’t get to test that for myself for a few year yet.  Now it seems the ugly and evasive milk weed is useful for more than just warts and sunspots.

I think it’s ironic that they are scowering the deepest and darkest rainforests for cancer cures when possibly  the best is growing in a crack outside their back door.  Talk about not looking for seeing.

Also I love that old wives tales have been vindicated once more.  Just possibly it may be the last time that people ignore or scoff such old solutions to problems just because it was said by their grandmother instead of a guy in a white coat.

Yes Fred, you can stay.

•Thursday 4 June 2009 • 1 Comment

All those years of parents the world over trying to rid their lives, their homes, their children’s minds of imaginary friends only to find out that once again, they were doing the wrong thing. 

Instead of  encouraging isolation, it’s been discovered  in two recent studies that imaginary friends actually help with communication skills and children with imaginary friends grow into creative individuals.

The exercise of seeing a conversation of event from another’s point of view is a powerful skill that allows adults to empathise to their fellow human being and a child to understand what it feels like to be a teddybear.

It seems Drop Dead Fred has a repreive from the big green pills of oblivion.

Tiananmen Square

•Thursday 4 June 2009 • Leave a Comment

 

 

Lest we forget.  I have nothing to say about this bloody incident that occured in the same year as the Berlin Wall came down that hasn’t already been said by those with better words and sharper memories.

HAPPY TOWEL DAY!

•Monday 25 May 2009 • Leave a Comment
In celebration of Douglas Adams and humble towel

In celebration of Douglas Adams and the humble towel

WWDD Game Day 2009

•Monday 18 May 2009 • Leave a Comment

Postscript: What REALLY hurts

•Monday 18 May 2009 • 2 Comments

Dr Parnassus lives!  In Cannes, September 2009.

16 months ago I lamented, with the sad demise of Heath Ledger that Terry Gilliam’s movie “The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus” may also be heading for an early movie death.  I’m very pleased to say that reports of the movies demise were grossly exaggerated.

Not only that, but Terry Gilliam has been able to fill Heath’s shoes with not just one fine actor, but three.

As with all of Terry Gilliam’s movies, the story of getting to the finished production is often as enthralling as the movie itself.  Dr Parnassus was no exception.

Two things were going for Gilliam when he was encouraged by the crew to finish: a magic mirror and the friendship of  three great actors.  The magic mirror was present in the script and only needed three actors to fill Heath’s shoes showing different aspects of the character.  The friends, Heath had those.  Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell.

“It’s a hard thing to do, walk into a character and take over. But they did it,” Gilliam says.

I think it says something about the character of a person that after they’ve died and they can do nothing for themselves that there are those still willing to pick up their work and carry it to its end.  Dr Parnassus has for me become a tribute to friendship and to a very dear friend.