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Chocolate (& stuff) Slices

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Feeeeeeeel good food!

A fave adaption from the Be-Ro booklet.

Cream 150g marg and 300g caster sugar till light and fluffy.
Melt 100g plain chocolate.
Separate 3 eggs.
Blend melted choc, egg yolks and creamed sugar/marg.
Sieve 250g self raising flour, 1/2 tsp of mixed spice, 1/2 tsp ground ginger and a pinch of salt.
Stir in the above while adding 180ml milk.
Add some items of choice: mixed fruit, cherries, nuts, choc chips…
Stiffly beat the 3 egg whites and carefully fold into the above.
Pour into greased/lined baking tray and bake at 180deg for about 45 mins.
Leave in tin for 10 mins lifting out onto cooling rack.
When cooled, top with choice of topping if desired and cut to slices.

Enjoy.

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Older and burnished but still tooting!

After half an hour tunneled into an ebook on my phone, I looked up from the vivid pictures that had been soaking my perception. I’d been depicting experiences and places from my youth and from more recent revelations, that have been stirringly characterised in the book “Notes from an Exhibition” by Patrick Gale.
I looked up, to see the city park in a similar state to the scene in the novel, bright sun burning, radiating the park around me, colours bright, smells warm and breeze welcome. The novel was set on the remote coast, but my reading was in England’s Midlands, farthest away from any salty sea or Seven Stones stained beauty.
However, it reminded me, and caused me to recall the gaze experienced after a slow toot. In my younger daze, I guess the world was so sharp and rich, that to conduct a plain of wonder that we ached for, we needed to blur the edges with whatever alternative might have worked, and the occasional rolled riz made the world a more vibrant kingdom. Now much older and arguably wizened, I have responsibilities that call for sharpness and attention to detail at a moment’s notice, alas any such sedati-stimulants are carefully considered and rarely imbibed.
As I looked up from the opiate of the novel, my gaze evoked a similar vivid daze, tunneled on the middle distance and detached from the ‘real’. Possibly the novel’s topic of heat, sea, childhood and the creative mind, had lured me in. I don’t know, but I do recall similar experiences reading some other books invoking contrasting worlds and so… it’s to the well crafted “fable” that I raise “regards”!
The good fable can be a powerful conductor if you want to brighten the often sterile world around us, have a toot on a good book! it works for me, sometimes.

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Some Small Flying Things…

The Small Blue (Cupido minimus)Blue-tailed Damselfly (Ischnura elegans)?Hummm... Black-winged Damselfly?

Small Flying Things…, a set on Flickr.

Saw the Small Blue in the garden tonight but the Damsels… ? Any experts? (Cossington Meadows, Leics)

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“ipad…” or “I bike…” ?

Sunday morning, cycle ’round the block, rural Leicestershire… some thoughts.

East Goscote, Barkby Thorpe, Scraptoft,  Beeby, South Croxton, Twyford, Thorp Satchville, Great Dalby, Gaddesby, Rearsby, East Goscote.

http://www.endomondo.com/embed/workouts?w=mSsn0c7g3ls&width=580&height=600&width=950&height=600
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Take a chill pill…

Cycling to work is a joy and I can’t recommend it highly enough – however…
The below obviously does not apply to the majority of road users but does apply to a surprisingly significant number. We are all at different stages of life and have differing world-views but I believe we are all human.

Lemming like following… slow down and chill-out.
First observation is the motorist’s urge to get up the backside of the car in front. Traffic seems to flow in bunches of half-a-dozen cars. Yes as a cyclist I also occasionally have to remind myself to “take a chill pill” but that’s usually due to aggravation caused by the danger of mixing with hard, fast, unpredictable hazards. One of the most frequent dangerous observations is a car overtaking me although the car in front of me has barely passed and then the overtaker has to brake hard and slow down. The most infuriatingly dangerous incidents are when a vehicle, again rather than waiting a few seconds, overtakes on a blind-bend, when they cannot see a clear route ahead. Unless I keep my wits about me, sooner or later there will be an incident where an over eager driver will take me out.

Disregard for the rules… limits are not targets.
The rules of the road are “rules”. It seems these days “speed limits” are an annoyance and a quaint part of the british landscape. They are frequently ignored or read as the speed that one should be doing. A 40mph speed limit means “do not exceed 40” not “drive at 40”. Limits are there to help prevent incident and to reduce potential casualty. Most rural and  suburban roads are not built for cars to drive at speed. There is no need to match the speed limit. You will get there if you just chill out a bit and slow down, trust me try it!

Ignorance of common sense… I didn’t think…
OK the jury’s out but, the fact is using a mobile phone, eating a banana, smoking a fag etc are secondary activities and driving requires the driver’s full attention. It’s common sense.
Wait until there’s room to proceed. If you cannot pass a cyclist safely just wait 20-30 seconds and look again. It’s common sense.
Common sense prevails (to most) when you’re walking down the street. You acknowledge passing strangers, you might even pass regards. You don’t run when walking suffices. You don’t barge past or shout at the person in front.

Blaring music… pardon?!
OK it took me awhile to drop the habit but there’s a limit where the loudness of music becomes ignorantly more than needed and rude. Common sense? When the music (and i use that term loosely) in the car becomes music out of the car, then that’s just stupid.

Midlife substitution… shiny happy people…
OK it will always be, but affluenza is an annoying phenomenon. What makes me chuckle is over 60’s in expensive sports-cars, and suede bagged mothers in oversized 4 wheel drive trucks. And of course there’s the single successful’s in their overpriced accessorising audmwcedes. It’s not a crime but it is i fear a symptom of oneupmanship.

Single seater driving… why?
Yes there’s always a place for the automobile. It’s an amazing invention and modern designs are becoming increasingly effective. But is it needed for journey Y & Z as well as X?
There was a time when I would not even entertain the seemingly stupid proposal that I might ride to work just once a week. The thought of it was seriously ridiculous and absolutely not an option. A year hence I found myself cycling to work daily, and having done so for a year.
There are so many people is a similar position to me – driving alone in a car 3-7 miles to work.
Admittedly there are situations where it is just not appropriate and not for everyone. But
I used to drive 7 miles to work, taking 25-30 minutes, costing ~£3 a day in petrol +parking. (£50/month). For my previous journeys, I strapped myself, encapsulated into a ventilated carriage, and gripping the shiny plastic, smelling the fake pine, I was led along by the lemming in front, while taking in the pop-pulp-podcastic wittering opiate of choice(?).
Now I cycle 7 miles to work, it take 30 minutes, it cost me nothing in petrol and parking.
My endorphins are raised, my lungs and muscles are exercised. My spirits are cleansed by fresh air, nature and light. My mind is allowed.
If you drive under 7 miles to work alone in a car there is another cheaper, healthier and more pleasurable choice.

The analogy with smoking… cough!
OK this one’s work-in-progress.
Smoking.
We have come to understand that smoking is an unhealthy decision. It’s debatably costly, bad for you, bad for those around you and stinks. OK it serves a purpose, it takes the edge of life’s ruggedness and it’s a choice. We all employ drugs in varying forms but the habitual use of some drugs are unwise and destructive. The use of nicotine in the form of cigarettes has been recognised as an unhealthy commercially driven crutch that needs limiting and should be considered with caution. Today, many would consider smoking cigarettes unwise yet still many do smoke. Many people ignore the financial cost, the health risks and the antisocial cloud that smoking creates. Many ignore the idea that “smoking kills” both physically and mentally
The Car.
Some have come to ponder driving is an unhealthy decision. It’s debatably costly, bad for you, bad for those around you and stinks. OK it serves a purpose, it takes the edge of life’s ruggedness and it’s a choice. We all drive in varying forms but the habitual use of the car is unwise and destructive. The use of cars has been recognised as an unhealthy commercially driven crutch that needs limiting and should be considered with caution. Today, many would consider the use of the car as unwise yet still many do drive. Many people ignore the financial cost, the health risks and the antisocial cloud that driving creates. Many ignore the idea that “speed kills” both physically and mentally.

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A True Story…

The cycling kettle and the meandering pot…

(a true story, however the names of the individuals have been changed to avoid conflict)

A kettle was cycling along the other day and approached an inattentive pot crossing the road with her two little pottlettes.
The pot was unaware of the peddling kettle as her gaze was remote and her two pottletts wandered aimlessly.
The kettle hollered – “oi!”… “Oi!”… “OI!”, three calls, with increasing vigour, the kettle boomed alarm as he approached her on a collision course to certain strife.
At the last minute, disaster was avoided as the pot turned to face a recoiling kettle, cycling afore her nose!
With exasperation the kettle passed, bewildered by the disregard of the pot for the busy road and the misdirection of her attention, especially with her little pottletts in tow!
Such incidents alarm the kettle and alas frustration got the better of him as he left the scene and in annoyance he uttered “for f***’s sake”. Perhaps he knew better of it but, the adrenalin of a cycling kettle is hard to contain.
I guess the pot was thankful for being alerted to potential fate of her and her offspring but the language of the kettle was too much to entertain as the pot shouted with gusto “watch your language you TW*T!”.

Happy daze.

“then you show us how”…
replied the crablets to daddy crab
as he told them to
“walk straight my children”… 

In Arabic “The camel cannot see the crookedness of its own neck”
In Basque “The blackbird to the crow: Black tail!”
In Bengal “The Sieve tells the needle to mind the hole in its back!”
In Bulgaria “The starving are laughing at the toothless!”
In Burma “The Son is one month older than the father”
In Croatia “The owl mocked the tit for having large eyes”
In France “The hospital that laughs at charity” and “The shovel mocks the poker”
In Hungary “The owl says the sparrow has a large head”
In Indonesia “The thief shouting robber”
In Italy “The ox calling the donkey horned” or a “A rag speaking ill of a cloth”
In Japan “Eye wax laughing at snot”
In Spain “The donkey talking about ears”
In Venezuela “An armadillo tells a turtle it is too hard shelled”
In Sweden “Sweep clean in front of your own door first”
In Vietnam “Dog ridicules cat for being hairy”
Thanks Wikipedia for these similar idioms.

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Butterflies 2011

Last year (2011) we watched 10 mini caterpillars transform into painted lady butterflies in our kitchen.

It was truly amazing to see the whole life-cycle.

 http://www.flickr.com/photos/58480027@N02/sets/72157629800926802/

Although I hesitate to recommend stuff ‘cos our experience could have ben a fluke, you can get the kit here: https://www.insectlore.co.uk

The link above is a seal for 10 caterpillars rather than the pack on Amazon which is 5 caterpillars.
What we experienced last year really was worth the £20.

This year we have just taken delivery of 25 silkworm eggs. Watch this space for an update in  a few weeks.

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Other people’s shoes…

Reflecting on the ordinary amongst the extraordinary…

The Methodist Church have asked each District to make a prayer symbol to help people to support the Olympics, Paralympics & Cultural Olympiad in prayer.
Rachel Parkinson (of Leicester North Circuit) and her team approached me with the engaging idea: “Put yourself in their shoes…

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Put yourself in their shoes simply features 8 images of people and their shoes…

The posters will be displayed in more than 100 community buildings across the district.
The images will also be reflected on in presentations and worship events across the region.
Thanks goes to Leicester College photography students for some of the photos.
I simply designed the graphics and artworked the posters etc.

“The Games” will no doubt focus, elevate and trumpet, extraordinary achievements in the next few months, which indeed should be marvelled at, celebrated and applauded.
These posters will hopefully act as a catalyst causing us to reflect and remember the ordinary in, under, amongst and over the extraordinary phenomenon of the next few months’ Olympiad.

The posters underpin the reflections with the idea “As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to share the gospel of peace” from Ephesians Ch.6 v15

TheirShoesTonyWalker
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We are what we eat…

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For a considerable time I subscribed and imbibed regular podcasts and playlists.
I enjoyed them, but perhaps I was overdosing on ear fodder. There’s listening and there’s gorging…
Around the time that some call lent, I stopped the regular ipod on my commute.
Initially I missed the stimulating drip of tunes and chatter, the warmth of ideas and rhythms.
It was not long, however, before I realised that the bigger canvas existed outside the bubble of my subscription.

I have recently encountered quite a selection of earworms.
I find myself inaudibly humming the kids’ recent discoveries: tie me kangaroo down, everything’s Rosie… I find my new choir pieces involuntarily sneaking upon my neurons… “It’s a new season…” is more welcome than “Dora the Explorer”. Of course the radio is still on the menu and tunes will re-emerge after exposure hours previous. Where did that come from!?… I haven’t even heard any Lionel Ritchie since New Year’s eve 2 years back! And where else can you get ‘every breath you take’ mixed with ‘fire starter’…

As well as earworms, I seem to host neural ghosts from films and books that I’ve read. Scenarios and ideas that just reappear to merge with real life and enhance or clash with my perspective. What’s real anyway? I do try to limit the pop reality xtalent type tv, one can only take so much candyfloss popcorn before it causes stomach cramp, but a little processed saccharin’s ok, I guess. So…. my worldview is collaged with BBC natural history, escapist action novel, Radio 4 academia, filmic devices, cycling advertorial, unresolved plot lines, twitterings, desert island thoughts… etc.

I guess my thought is that we’re exposed to such a choice of infotainment streams that are all to readily available.
There is choice, we can decide on a diet that feeds our world…

We are what we eat

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Worship?

I commented on “worship” last October: taking a bath the interaction between things is what make them…

I recently saw someone comment that they “NEED to worship God”, that when they begin to worship “something happens within me… natural selfishness gets kicked out the back door and my heart* opens up to the transforming, powerful, grace-filled-love* of God*.  …it reminds me… that all of the responsibilities and struggles I take on are in his-hands*, and that I can trust him to walk-with-me* and not abandon me, to give me the words and the strength.  …to remember the love-he-has-for-me*, to be open to the work of the Holy-Spirit* and to remind myself that he is that centre. Worship helps me to know that I-am-loved*, and it sets me free to love others, and to see the grace-of-God* at work in the world around me.” 

They commented: “so often in discussions about worship we have a tendency to make worship about us and not about God. …it is important that we don’t forget what it is for and who it is about. In worship God becomes greater and I-become-less*…     I need to worship!”

(I have concerns with some of these * notions)

My admittedly imperfect perspective might be as follows:
I need to worship (to adore, revere, respect, devote, admire, venerate, celebrate?) the thing /notion/sense/power(?) that is bigger than us all”.
When I recognise the reality of otherness and possibilities, it helps to refocus on the bigger picture and review perspectives, attitudes and opinions in a fresh way.
To repeatedly recognise the fabula (story) of ‘life’, and reappraise the sjužet (discourse, perspectives, attitudes, opinions – interaction) can enrich the poor, liven the dead, and can make the blind see.
To review the selfishness that often hinders creativity and open up to the transforming, power of reconsideration.
Life is limited but the clouds move.
This worship reminds me that I am relevant in daily the interaction and it sets me free to let others be.
Worship is about us as part of the fabula and yes, it is important that we don’t forget our place in things.
In worship, life becomes greater and we become more real…        we need to worship!”

(None of this considers the euphoria, endorphins and satisfaction induced by standing and singing etc – that’s another topic.)